chapter 2

Ashley

I'm screwed.

No, I'm finished.

I'm in a pile of shit.

Those Were the thoughts going through my mind as I was sailing mid-air, chasing after my tray.

The dreams crashed first, breaking into little pieces on impact, showering the occupants of the table in alcohol and mocktails.

Square, shouts, and muffled causes rank out, drawing the attention of others when I crashed into the table myself, throwing up bits of food and water.

I groaned into the stained tablecloth, feeling weak and frustrated with my lack of coordination.

Part of me dreaded looking up to see the mess I’d created, while the other part just wanted to sink into the floor, grateful if it swallowed me up.

“Mr Murphy! Miss Florentine!” I could hear the click of Cynthia's heels, and I felt a sharp kick to my leg while she frantically tried to apologize for my mistake.

I realized that the more I lay there, the more stupid it became, so with a great deal of reluctance I pushed away from the floor, stumbling to my feet unevenly.

Water, wine, and something else I did not want to even name dripped down my face, and I was pretty sure I had bits of food stuck in my ear. The older lady with pearls wrapped around her neck, a silk top, and an expensive looking pantsuit moved away from me, looking distressed.

Cynthia was pleading and begging to a man who was talking into a phone looking stern, while I looked around for the man I'd been staring at.

He was nowhere to be found. Just then, the doors open and I could make out his profile as he wakes towards the entrance with guards flanking him.

I bent my head, feeling horrible. I sidled closer to Cynthia and the strange man. “Sir, I'm so sorry about what happened. It was so fast and “Ashley!” Cynthia's tone was as sharp as a whip,

Drawing my gaze to hers. She still had on that cool, professional mask but her eyes were hard. “I'm sure you've done enough, but please leave.” Her tone was firm, brooking no disagreement so I turned to walk out only to be stopped by her again.

“Oh and Ashley, don't leave yet.” She called out. “I want a word.”

I bowed stiffly, working as fast as my wet clothes would allow me to. The guests looked at me weirdly and with pity while my fellow workers just looked away, not meeting my eyes.

I stripped out of the ruined uniform and cursed heels, tossing it into the trash can. I washed my face in the small sink, praying to a God out there..

The door banged open and a pissed off looking Cynthia bargained in. “Thank your f****** stars that you didn't ruin me tonight with your games!” She spat, pacing around. “Do you have any idea who those people are?” I shake my head. “No”

They were a big deal, I bet. “I knew I was making a grave mistake to let you work tonight. “She hissed, her nostril flaring. “ What the f*** were you thinking, huh?”

My throat felt heavy, and the urge to cry was overwhelming. I blinked back the tears. “I'm s…so so… sorry, I promise it won't happen again. “Cynthia's lips curled into a cruel smile. “Dame right, it won't!” my shoulders fell in relief. “... Because henceforth, you won't be working for me ever again. Pack your shit and leave, I never want to see you again!”

My heart almost craved it. “Wait no, please! It was an honest mistake. Please, I promise I'll do whatever you want!” I broke into tears, begging.

“Do you want me to call security?” Her eyes were still frosty, staring at me like a murderer. “You've got 5 minutes to get out, and for shit sake, clean your face.” she walked out.

As much as I wanted to sink to the floor and bawl my eyes out, I knew Cynthia had no qualms about tossing me out of the building so I packed my stuff and headed home.

I didn't bother undressing before flopping on the bed, my mind going crazy with random thoughts. I closed my eyes to shut them off, and the next thing I knew I was woken up by the distant sound of buzzing.

Raising one tired eyelid open, I saw the blurry outline of the time.8:02!

Work!!

“Shit!” I jumped out of bed, stubbing my toe in the process while I raced through my getting ready-to-work routine.

With less than 5 minutes to spare before I was late for my shift, I ran to the coffee shop. “He…hey Jim!” I wheezed, doubling over to catch my breath. Jim squints to see me clearly, a concerned look appearing on his face. “Hey kiddo, you good?”

Fucking dandy. Still struggling to catch my breath, I waved him off and walked to the back. Luckily, it was a slow morning and Gina, the other waitress, was handling my spot. I donned my work clothes, hoping that I don't f*** this day up too because that will be unacceptable.

I needed this job.

I took over from Gina, giving her a break while I mande the counter. Keeping a pleasant smile on my face, the hours went by fast and I almost forgot yesterday's incident. During lunch hour, my feet were killing me and the influx of orders was getting too much.

After blinking sweat out of my eyes for the fifth time in a row, I was about to excuse myself when a short man with a stockist build in a suit and dark shades walked up to my side. “One pumpkin spice latte, one coffee-black, no sugar or cream, and a box of glazed donuts .” He handed me a crisp $100-dollar bill and motioned for me to keep the change.

As I was boxing up his order, he got a call or so and had to step outside.

I carried his package out the front door looking for him, only to see a black limon idling on the curb. To my shock, the guy stepped out, giving me a glimpse of who he was riding with…and dare I say, he looked familiar!

“Miss?” I looked up to CHAPTER 1

Ashley

"I need a fucking break!" I moaned, burying my head in the sheaf of papers littering my small desk.

My table was filled with mails, invoices, and several bills I was behind on. That was all my life had dwindled to now: a state of never-ending bills.

At this rate, I'd probably give it over to my children to inherit.

Scrubbing my blurry eyes with the back of my hand, I took a heaving breath refocusing my gaze on the computer while I scrolled through the recent list of job offers.

Bemoaning the state of my finances wasn't going to help me.

I was just about to give up after thirty minutes of fruitless searching and call it a night when my phone rang.

I had half a mind to ignore it, but the thought struck me that it could be my sister calling about Mom.

Mom!

I bolted out of my chair so fast, that my vision spun for about a second before I righted myself.

"Hello?" I spoke into the phone breathlessly, my little stunt taking the wind out of me.

"Ashley, is that you?" The voice of Cynthia Murray, the contractor on private events echoed over the phone.

My heart almost skipped a beat.

She only calls when there's a job available.

"Um...yes, uhh..this is she." I stumbled out.

"Oh, okay good." She stopped momentarily and I could hear the noise in the background drowning out the sounds of her talking. "Are you with me?" Her voice came over the phone again, loud and clear.

"Yes, ma'am."

"So, are you available?" She chuckled nervously, probably aware of how she sounded. "For a job. There's a bit of overload and not enough helping hands. So, are you free?"

I glanced at the clock. 7 pm. "Is the rate still the same?"

She hesitated, before answering weekly. "Yes."

"Then yes, I'm available." I cheered silently.

"Be there in 10." The warmth in her tone had gone. "I'll send someone down to help you."

She hung up.

I stared at my phone in amazement, wondering how someone could be so rude but shrugged it off, jumping into action.

I twisted my long hair into a bun atop my head and jumped into the shower.

Two minutes later, after the quickest shower known to man, I donned casual clothes slipping my feet into my well-worn flats.

I grabbed everything I needed and ran downstairs, flagging a cab the moment I spotted one.

Usually, I would save the cab fare and walk but Mrs Cynthia was already crankier than usual, and I was not looking forward to adding to that.

I looked out the window, watching the cab inch forward to the address Cynthia had sent to me, distantly wondering when I would stop worrying about money.

Working with Cynthia is only one of the many odd jobs I'm currently doing aside from working in a local coffee shop during the day.

At night, I pick whatever job comes my way for extra cash. For a normal person that would be enough to live on, but when you have an ailing parent and two younger ones who depend on you for survival, you have no choice but to engage in multiple jobs.

"You're here ma'am." The cab driver jolted me from my depressing thoughts. I flash him a smile, handing him his cash.

At the entrance was a tall, skinny kid who looked like he was waiting for me, flagging me down the moment I got close.

"This way," he led me through the back entrance- the kitchen- and pointed towards a serving dress, complete with the hat and shoes.

"Where's Cynthia?" I yelled at his retreating, but if the kid heard me he showed no sign of responding.

I quickly changed, applying light makeup so my face didn't look quite as dull underneath the harsh, fluorescent lights.

I picked up a tray, expertly balancing it between my palm and shoulder blades.

I pushed past the door, took a deep breath, and walked into another world.

I resisted the urge to gawk and soak in the rich, opulent surroundings and glided forward on the spotless white tiles.

I caught sight of Sofia, one of my colleagues that I was close with mingling discreetly with the guests while handing out water, wine, or whatever refreshment caught the guests' interest.

I walked over to the bar and cocktail stand, feeling out of place without a direction or order.

Cynthia was nowhere to be found either.

"You new?" The bartender, whose name tag read Jake peered at me while he poured drinks into a glass.

"I'm sorry, what?" I leaned in so I could hear him better over the din.

"I asked if you're new." He nods to my empty tray. "Haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, I-"

"There you are!" Cynthia's voice which was a mix of irritation and relief cut me short. "You're super late!" She fiddled with her purse, drawing out a clean handkerchief to dab at her neck. I opened my mouth to say something but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Anyways, that doesn't matter." Holding me firmly, she turned me to face the left-hand side of the hall. "You see there," she pointed. I had no idea where she was pointing at but I 'hmmed' to go along. "Serve them your best cognac, apple cider, and some cocktails."

With that instruction, she left me.

Confused and disoriented, I packed several drinks into my tray, nervously inching towards a table in that direction.

"Drinks?" I murmured, keeping my voice low so as not to interrupt the men whose heads were bowed low in conversation.

The man closest to me lifted his head, and I was struck by how beautiful he looked.

Soft, wavy dark hair tumbled down his forehead framing those strong cheekbones and jawline.

He was ridiculously hot, but what caught my attention was his voice.

"We won't be needing anything, angel." The words rolled off his velvety, smooth palate and I was so out of it, I squeaked and turned on my heel quickly.

Unfortunately, my heel caught on the tablecloth, and it all happened in slow motion.

The drinks falling out of my hands.

Me screaming like a banshee, and the horrified face of the handsome man.

Oh, shit.

the guy looking pointedly at his package. I flushed, handing it over. “Thank you.” He got in and the car pulled away. I blinked twice to reinsert myself back to reality. Was it just me or was that him?