Vindicated (6 page)

“Where do you come up with these jobs?” She shook her head in amazement. Last year, he worked on a cruise ship, led historical tours of the city, and gave dancing lessons at a local studio.

“Connections,” he said with a wink. “You never know who can give you a leg up when you need it the most.” His square shoulders lifted in a shrug. “You want me to hook you up? You’ve got all the moves.” The green gaze travelled over her body, taking in the line of her cleavage in the tight white top, the curve of her hips, and the length of her legs. “You’d make a killing with your bouncy round ass in a short skirt and some hooker heels. Guys dig that naughty virgin thing you’ve got going on.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Then explain to me why I haven’t had a date in months?” She grabbed a bottle of ketchup from the condiment shelf and slid the tray of drinks from the counter, balancing it on one hand.

“You haven’t had a date because you spend all your time with your nose in a book or working that pretty little booty off.” He waggled a well-groomed eyebrow in a suggestive leer that made her smile. “If you’re so desperate, I’ll give you a poke in the ladies room at break.” He bit his full lower lip and smirked. She was pretty sure he meant it. He’d already shagged half the wait staff, both male and female.

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” she shot back at him over her shoulder as she left to deliver the food.

“Girl, everyone’s my type,” he replied.

The bar got busy around nine when the nearby factory let out and put an end to their banter. She took orders and bussed tables for the entire dining room, while Josh held down the bar. Randy never called with news about her car. She thought about calling him, but every time she pulled out her phone, a customer arrived, and the chance was lost.

No texts from Emma, either. She’d set up a lunch account with the school the day before, billed directly to her credit card, and was anxious to make sure Emma used it. Concerned, she called her own cell number from the restaurant phone to make sure it was operating. The call rang into her phone and went to voicemail after a few rings. She tapped a quick text to Emma before heading back to the floor.

Karly:
What’s up, baby girl? Love u!

By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, her feet and back ached. She was about to change out of her outfit and into her street clothes when Scotty called her into his office.

“Come on in,” he said. “This will just take a minute.” He sat behind his messy desk in the tiny office with a haggard look on his face. When she entered the room, he scrubbed a thick-fingered hand over his bloodshot eyes.

“What’s up?” she asked. The only time he ever called her into his office was to bully her into working extra shifts.

“You did a great job out there tonight. You’re a hard worker.”

Uh-oh. This doesn’t sound good.
Butterflies twittered in her belly. The last time he praised her work was, well, never.

“I’m afraid I have to let you go,” he continued.

“What?” She placed a hand on her stomach, the pain as real as if he’d punched her in the gut, and tried to catch her breath. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“Things are tough right now. I’ve got to cut back, and unfortunately my only choice is to let a couple of people go.” His gruff voice trailed off as he reached into his drawer and pulled out a white business envelope. “Your last paycheck is in there and some cash to help you get by.”

The unexpected dismissal brought the sting of tears to her eyes. It was official. She was now totally and thoroughly fucked.

“Scotty, I need this job.” Overwhelmed with desperation, she searched his face and found nothing there but determination. Josh peered at her from the doorway, eyes round with concern.

“I’m sorry, Karly. It’s done.” The chair scraped over the floor as Scotty stood. “If things turn around, I’ll be happy to have you back.”

Chapter 10

Karly stepped into the parking lot of the bar to find at least four inches of new snow covering the cityscape. Eerie silence enveloped the street. The cold stung her lungs like needles. Numbed by the turn of events, she stood outside the door and stared at the envelope in her hand. Two hundred dollars wouldn’t stretch very far. After a few minutes, she shoved the envelope into her pocket and, with head down, walked to the street in search of Ally’s car.

On the opposite side of the street, exhaust plumed from the mufflers of a shiny black pickup and hovered in ethereal clouds over the pavement. The driver’s door opened, and Randy stepped out. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. He was the last person she expected to see. He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth. The sight of him lessened a little of the sting from being sacked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked when he crossed to meet her.

"Ally got tied up with Jack, so I came to scoop you up.” He took her hand and helped her cross the snow-slickened street. “You'll have to get in on my side. The door is frozen shut on yours."

“Thanks.” At his touch, tiny jolts of attraction travelled up her arm. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore them.

"Rough night? You look tired," he said. The truck rumbled and pulled away from the curb. She was painfully conscious of his hand next to her knee as he worked the gearshift.

"You have no idea," she replied and tried to calm the tremor in her voice. "I had to bus tables and serve. My feet are killing me."

"I give a killer foot massage." He cast an ornery grin in her direction. Again, her eyes went to his hand on the gearshift. The long, blunt-tipped fingers looked more than capable of delivering.

"I might take you up on your offer," she said, shivering at the thought of his warm hands on her bare skin, kneading her sore muscles. "So, what about my car?"

"It's fucked," he replied. A wave of nausea rolled through her at the note of finality in his voice. "You've got a leak in your radiator, thermostat's shot, alternator's bad, and you need a new timing belt."

"Really?" She slumped down in the seat. “Anything else? Or maybe you should tell me what’s not broken.”

"And you need new brakes," he added, giving insult to injury.

"Great." Distress knotted her stomach. She’d have to ride the bus. It would take hours to cross the city each day for work and class. Hopelessness welled inside her. At this rate, she’d never get a better apartment, finish school, or be able to help Emma. Lost in thought, she fell silent and stared out the window. “I got sacked tonight. Guess I’ll be walking for a while.”

“Damn. You want me to talk to Scotty? He owes me a few favors.” Randy shot her a sideways glance before returning his gaze to the slick street.

“Thanks, but no.”

Randy stopped the truck beside her apartment building. He shut off the headlights, leaving them in darkness. The street was deserted and silent. Snowflakes swirled around the cab of the truck in a frenzied dance. The wind kicked up. Outside, the blizzard resurrected. Inside, heat blasted from the vents, and the dashboard gauges glowed. He turned in the seat to face her, bumping her leg with his, and broke the silence.

"You know, the body and the interior are in pretty good shape. Maybe you could part it out. At least you could get some of your money back."

Tears stung her eyelids. Without a car, she was completely screwed. Her mind ticked through her debts again and came up with one solution. She had to find a better-paying job, sell plasma, or donate her eggs. Something.
Anything
. Josh’s offer flashed through her mind, but she dismissed it as a foolish impossibility. There was no such thing as easy money.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" Randy squirmed in his seat and sat back against the door. "Geez, don't cry. I'm sure we can work something out."

"I'm not crying," she snapped. A fat tear rolled down one cheek. She wiped it away. "My contacts are hurting." She sniffed and took a deep breath, but that only made it worse. Tears flowed against her will.

"Damn it," Randy muttered. His arms went around her and pulled her into his chest, holding her tight. It was warm and safe inside the circle of his embrace. She buried her face in his sweatshirt and took a deep breath, comforted by the scent of his shower gel and fabric softener. They weren’t friends or lovers, but lately, he seemed to be there when she needed him the most.

Chapter 11

Errant beams of afternoon sunlight shafted through the plastic blinds of Karly’s living room window and reflected on her computer screen. She’d been scanning the internet for jobs all day. Rap music blared from the apartment next door, the bass vibrating the glass of water on the end table, interspersed with shouts and curses as a group of kids passed through the seventh floor corridor. Her gaze flicked to the five locks on the front door. She rose from the couch, padded over to the door, and checked the locks one more time. Satisfied all was safe, she resumed the job search until her stomach cramped with hunger, a brutal reminder of the lack of food in the apartment.

The buzz of her cell phone provided a welcome distraction. Hoping the caller was Emma, she grabbed the phone and huffed a sigh of disappointment.

“Hey, Karls. What’s up?”

“Hey, yourself.” At the sound of Ally’s voice, some of the tension in Karly’s neck and shoulders eased.

“How did your interview go this morning?”

“Another big fat failure. This time they said I wasn’t qualified for the position. How can a person not be qualified as a receptionist? I mean, either you can answer a phone or not.” Karly flopped backward onto the couch cushions as she recalled the condescending air of the interviewer. “I give up.”

“I’m sorry, Karls. Keep at it. Someone will give you a break.” The sympathetic voice in her ear brought a smile to her lips for the first time all day. “And the next time you have an interview, let me know. You can borrow my car. I never drive it anymore. Jack insists on taking his truck everywhere.”

“Really? That would be awesome. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, actually, that's why I'm calling. I need a favor." Ally never asked for favors—ever. If she was asking for a favor now, the situation must be desperate.

"Go on. I'm listening." Karly propped her feet on the coffee table and closed her eyes.

"I was hoping you could work at Felony tonight." Ally sucked in an audible breath as if holding it until she heard the answer. "Jack's still sick, and we’ve got a band booked for tonight. I’m super short on waitresses. The place is going to be packed, and it’ll be hell. I wouldn’t ask but I’m desperate. If I have to beg, I will. We're in real trouble here."

"I don't know," Karly said but perked up at the idea. “What happened to Tasha? Did she quit?” Tasha, the eccentric Goth waitress, handled the unruly patrons of Felony like a lion-tamer in a room full of kittens.

“Yeah. She and Randy had some kind of falling out.” Ally snorted with mirth. “I’m not sure what happened, but Tasha poured a beer over his head and stormed out. Said he was
an emotionally stunted fucktard
.” She sighed. “God, I miss her.”

“And what does Jack say about me working there?” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and waited for Ally’s answer.

“Jack knows you’re kickass. He’s fine with it,” Ally replied. "You've got a bartender's license. You know how to carry a tray. God knows you've drank enough." They both giggled. "I'll pay you cash under the table. A hundred bucks plus all your tips. Wear something sexy, and you'll make a bundle."

Karly sighed. Ally knew her weak spot—her empty bank account—and had gone straight for it like a tiger scenting blood. A hundred dollars in cash would hardly make a dent in her debt, but it was enough to pay the electric bill and put food on the table for a few more nights. The angry growl of her stomach hastened her decision.

"Alright. Fine." She paused, knowing the subject had to be broached but dreading it all the same. "Is Randy going to be there?"

"Well, duh, yeah." Ally's voice held the faintest twinge of amusement. "And Luke, Jack’s brother. I don’t think you’ve met him.”

“No.” Her stomach fluttered in a combination of excitement and apprehension. There was something mystical and pleasantly wicked about Felony, and now she’d be a part of it. “What time should I be there?”

“No later than eight. I’ll have Randy send a cab for you.” The sound of muffled voices in the background caused Ally to groan. "Look, I've got to go. Jack's yelling for me. "

Chapter 12

At ten minutes before eight, Karly smoothed her hands over her hair and took one last calming breath before she went inside Felony. The deep rumble of bass guitar vibrated through the walls. The music stopped and an eerie silence fell, like Felony held its breath. Empty and dark, the place exuded a preternatural calm that raised the hair on the back of her neck. Equipment cases and instruments scattered the stage. A tangle of electrical cords slithered across the floor like snakes. She hovered in the shadows and tried to squelch the return of butterflies to her stomach.