City Lights Starry Nights by Kimberly Readnour EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Kimberly Readnour
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
EVIE
“You’re late.” Job’s voice carries above the clanking of dishes and murmured
conversations.
“Don’t remind me.” I groan and beeline to the lockers, ignoring the bitchyou’re-going-to-be-fired look my friend tosses at me. Though, Job’s thoughts
aren’t far from the truth. It’s no secret that Mr.
Bossman threatens to can my
ass every chance he gets. His line of bullshit runs deep, but no matter how
much I hate this dead-end job, I can’t afford to quit. Gah, tonight’s shift isn’t
starting as planned.
I shove my purse inside the designated space and spin around to the
pantry that houses serving trays filled with champagne flutes. As I walk, I
clip the last strands of my hair in place. Job clicks his tongue in disapproval. I
can feel his eyes roam along the white oxford shirt with a missing fourth
button down to my black pencil skirt.
His small gasp alerts me when he spots
the run in my hose above my right knee. Yes, hose, as in hosiery that Mr.
Bossman makes us girls wear, as if we’re stuck in a seventies time warp. It
wasn’t so bad wearing them during the Chicago winters, but in the
summertime while riding the ‘L’? No thanks.
“Girl, did you get in a fight with a beaver?”
“Beaver?” The shrill in my voice turns a few heads toward us. I give them
a quick wave in greeting, which they return with a shake of their head.
“Eh, it was the only thing I could think of that’s low to the ground with
claws. Rawr.” He pretends to swipe at me with a clawed hand. When his gaze
drops, he gasps, “Where is your apron?”
I scoop the filled tray into my hands and shrug. “My interview ran late. In
my rush to get here, I stumbled on the steps and fell.” Note to self: never look
at your phone as you race up the stairs.
That rule doubles when the caller
happens to be Mom. “When I caught the red line, I realized I didn’t have my
apron. There wasn’t time to go home and grab it.” If there was still a home
for me to go back to. It’s best I don’t mention the not-so-friendly letter I
received that’s lining my trash with the word eviction scrolled across the top
in bright red font. Nope, there’s no unseeing that or changing my status. Job
already thinks I don’t have my shit together.
The swing door opens as a waiter breezes by us, creating enough draft to
remind me of my ripped stockings. I suppose Job’s assessment of me isn’t
too far off. It feels like life keeps chipping away at my dignity.
“Good news?” He raises an eyebrow, all hopeful-like. I hate how his face
falls when he takes in my sullen expression.
“Hardly. The interviewer got stuck in traffic, which caused a ripple
effect.” I lift my arms as Job pulls an extra apron out of his ass. Not literally,
but I have no idea where he conjured an extra one. He slaps it on my midriff
and spins me around to tie it. I continue to explain, “So, after waiting over an
hour, he politely told me I didn’t have the qualifications he was looking for.”
Things that should’ve been decided before I wasted my time.
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