Oh God. This is so embarrassing.
“Come on, jackass,” Chuck mutters, jerking hard on the man’s arm. “You’re out of here.”
“I’m a paying customer! You can’t kick me out!” the man yells. “Don’t listen to that little bitch! I’m not drunk!”
I never said he was, though it’s fairly obvious. That was all Chuck.
Donna comes to stand beside me, slinging her arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to the back.”
I follow behind her to her office, feeling numb. I can’t believe that guy made such a scene. Worse, I can’t believe he dragged me into it, when I had nothing to do with what was happening.
Such a jerk.
“Are you okay?” Donna asks once we’re tucked away in her tiny office. “Do we need to write up a report about this guy?”
“What? No, I don’t think so. He’s just really drunk,” I tell her.
“Yeah well, he’s caused trouble here before. Tried to grab one of the girls last week. Chuck tossed him out, but he wouldn’t leave, so I had to call the cops,” Donna explains.
“Oh no.” At least he didn’t try to grab me. “He only said some stuff to me. Nothing too crazy.”
“He did call you a bitch,” Donna reminds me with a sigh as she walks over to her filing cabinet and pulls open the top drawer. “I’m going to have you fill this form out, just to document what happened. That way we’re all covered.”
“Covered for what?” I ask as she hands me a form.
“In case he decides to come back again. He’s a frequent customer, but I’m banning him. We need documentation,” Donna explains.
I start to fill it out. Gladly.
I’m leaving the restaurant along with Donna and a couple of other coworkers. Chuck already took off after surveilling the parking lot, looking for our troublesome customer. Once he declared the coast was clear, Donna let him go.
My car starts up with ease—it’s always a little nerve-wracking since the alternator went out. I still don’t quite trust it. I wave at Donna, who zooms out of the parking lot as if her tail is on fire.
I’m sure she’s tired. We all are. It was an extra busy night.
I put the car into reverse and start to back out of the parking spot when the engine stalls. Sputters.
Dies.
My heart squeezes as I put the gear into park, the car lurching forward. I attempt to start the car, the engine trying, but it doesn’t quite make it. I sit there for a moment, thinking about what I should do. Who I can call.
God, this stupid car. I absolutely cannot afford for it to go out on me again. I’m already in debt to Jackson, and whatever else is wrong with it, it’s probably a really expensive fix. I wish I could get a new car, but that costs money.
Money I don’t have. I’m only eighteen. I’m sure I wouldn’t qualify for a loan, and it’s not like I can afford a monthly car payment. My budget is pretty tight already.
Telling myself I don’t need to send myself into a worse panic, I pull out my phone and bring up my messages, hating that Jackson isn’t here to come to my rescue. He’d drop whatever and come running. I know he would.
But he’s gone. I can’t rely on him all the time.
I’m just starting to type out a text to Hayden when there’s a rapid-fire knock on my window, startling me so badly, my phone slips from my fingers, falling onto the floorboard. I glance up to find the drunk customer standing there, an evil grin on his face.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Car trouble?” he yells, his voice muffled.
Shit, shit, shit! What is he doing here?
I reach down, scared to take my eyes off of him, my hand scrambling, in search of my phone, but I can’t find it. It must’ve slipped under the seat and out of my reach.
He bangs on the window again, harder this time. “You’re a bitch, you know that? Ruining my good time. Why are you all bitches, huh? What the fuck do you want from us?”