It had been another busy night, one I should have been at home for, but I was covering another bartender, yet again.
The shitty day had been topped off by discovering someone had puked in the bathroom. I had elected Anna to go clean it up. Vomit makes me heave, so I was likely to add to it rather than clean it up.
Anna’s soft footsteps make me look around from where I am crouched safely behind the bar, enjoying the gentle clink of the glass bottles as I refill the fridges.
“How do you do it?” she asks as she pushes her shoes off and starts rubbing her feet.
“Do what, babe?” I quirk an eyebrow at her random question.
“Stay so cool and put together when everyone is shouting orders at you? And still have time to get girls’ digits!” She waves the little stack of napkins I’ve collected tonight, all scrawled with phone numbers I know I’ll never use.
“And one guy’s.”
I wink, flashing her a cheeky grin which makes her eyes roll. The guy had been kind of hot, not gonna lie. It was flattering that he had given me his number even after I’d told him I was straight.
“I don’t know... I’ve been doing it a while longer than you. I’m used to people shouting at me and not getting flustered…” I trail off. My dad has been yelling at me for years, not to mention all the private tutors he’d shoved at me as I’d been growing up.
We clean in silence for a few minutes, but the question which had been burning on the end of my tongue since the beginning of the shift was weighing heavy on me.
I clear my throat, messing with the glasses on my face as I pluck up the courage to talk to her. “Hey, Anna... can I ask you a huge favor?”
“Sure! Anything,” she replies, giving me a warm smile.
I can feel myself going red and start messing with my glasses again just for something to do with my hands.
I return her wide grin, relief flowing through my veins. “Thanks, babe. Your boyfriends won’t mind too much?”
“Like I give a fuck what they think!” Anna laughs, her husky chortles making me laugh too.
We make plans to go dress shopping the next day and lock up. I give her a wave as I jog down the block to where my car is parked.
My phone buzzes against my thigh as I unlock the door, and I retrieve it as I ease myself down into the driver’s seat.
And it’s not really my home, not anymore. He insists on keeping my room—such as it is—and I tend to stay over if I go back for dinner, mostly so I can have a drink, but I have my own shitty apartment I live in with Asparagus, my grumpy Persian cat.
I smirk as I imagine what Dad’s reaction will be to Anna and her bright red hair and her lack of filter, especially once you get a little libation into her.
But I have to admit, him being so excited about his wedding is kind of adorable. My mom had died when I was a little kid, and Dad had spent the rest of my childhood concentrating on raising me.
His new beau, Rachel, seems lovely. She isn’t a money-hungry disgraced heiress like the other women he’d dated over the years.
We’ll probably chat politely for five minutes and then have nothing to do with each other.
I unlock the door to my place, greeted as usual by the happy chirping of Gus.
“Hey, fella.” I swoop him up into my arms, burying my face into his long fluffy gray hair.
His loud purrs rumble through his body as I walk us over to the cupboard which contains all his shit—the little guy has nearly more personal belongings than I do!
Scattered across the living room floor are several cuddly toys stuffed with catnip, which he in equal parts terrorizes and cuddles.
I drop him down and retrieve a clean bowl, filling it with disgusting-smelling brown-gravy-covered chunks. He meows loudly, rubbing up against my lower legs, almost tripping me up as I make my way over to his place mat.
I feel like I’ve only just closed my eyes for a second, but the incessant cries of hunger and paw tapping on my face wake me up eight hours later.
I scrape Gus’s bowl, swilling it out before I give him his breakfast. Jumping in the shower, I quickly wash away the stale sweat from sleeping in my stinky work clothes.
I drag a brush through my shoulder-length hair and sweep it back into a messy bun. I send Anna a quick text as I grab a can of Monster from my fridge.
My feet are killing me!
I’d spent all day shopping with Anna and was quite pleased with myself for sneakily spending a small fortune on her dress and shoes—she was so ungirly, it was easy to slip her into the few high-end shops the next town over boasted and deck her head to toe in designer garb.
I stifle a yawn as I rock back onto my heels behind the bar, trying to get some of the pressure off the burning balls of my feet.
Glancing at my phone, I realize with a frown that Steve hasn’t turned up to relieve me. He is already nearly an hour late—we’d been slammed so I hadn’t noticed the time—and it isn’t like him to be late.
In fact, he’s normally here all day, fiddling around in the office.
I decide to give him the benefit of a little while longer, a little pissed he hadn’t called to say he was gonna be late. But by the time another hour has rolled past, I’m actually feeling a little anxious about my friend.
I wait a few minutes, serving a few more people until another text comes through.
I smirk to myself at her thinking I need the extra money. Resolving myself to another four hours at work, I cross my fingers it goes by without any issues.
I bound up the metal stairs to Anna and Steve’s apartment feeling pretty fucking sexy in my new tux—courtesy of dear old Dad—and rap my knuckles on the door.
There is a moment of silence before I hear Anna’s voice through the wood.
“Wh-who is it?”
“It’s Max.” I chuckle. “Did you forget we’re going out?!”
Anna opens the door, and I grin at her. She’s beautiful in the red dress—Calvin Klein—which matched her hair shade almost perfectly, and I can’t help the excited grin from forming on my face. Today is going to be fun!
Steve’s friend Kelly wolf-whistles, so I do a slow turn for them both, holding my arms out like a model.
“So, are you ready to hit the road?” I ask when I’m facing them again.
“Um…no. We’re worried about Steve,” Anna replies, nibbling her bottom lip.
“What about him?” I frown. Maybe he is sicker than I thought. I step forward, looking toward his bedroom. “Do we need to call the doctor?”
“No.” Kelly shakes her head. “He’s missing.”
“No. I think he’s missing.” Kelly holds up one of the gauges which normally sits in Steve’s earlobe. “The sofa has been moved, too. I think there was a struggle.”
Anna sinks to the floor, her chin wobbling, and I immediately crouch down next to my distraught friend, running a comforting hand up and down her back.
“I-I should have come straight home when he said he was ill…,” she mumbles.
Above us, Kelly pulls out her phone and starts dialing.
After visiting the least helpful police station ever, we had relocated to Sam’s house. Someone had ordered pizza a while ago, but it just sat oozing grease into its cardboard box, no one hungry.
All of us had tried calling him, but he hadn’t picked up. Likewise, all the texts we’d sent were all still unread.
I’d called my dad, and thankfully he’d been understanding as to the reason I was missing his wedding. I was going to have to think of some way to make it up to him and Rachel.
At last, the girls who have Steve—a hostage for all intents and purposes—contact us, demanding money to let him go. Sam and Christian have a mini argument about selling cars or putting up medical expenses, and I grow anxious.
I can easily give them the money they need, but none of them know about my background. None of them know exactly what kind of family I come from.
Fuck it... it’s for Steve.
“I... um... I can get the money.” Everyone looks around to where I’m awkwardly standing.
“How? You plan on robbing a bank?” Anna shakes her head, pushing out a laugh.
“No. I’m... I guess you could say I’m kinda rich.” I shrug, trying to look nonchalant.
“Fuck off you’re rich,” Sam scoffs. “I’ve seen where you live, dude.”
“Trust me, I can get the money. No one has to sell their car or empty their bank account. It’s like pocket change for me.”
I grimace, messing with my glasses as I cringe at how much of a twat I just sounded like. “I sounded like a complete douche then, I’m sorry.”
“Maybe we don’t have to pay her anything,” Beth muses, before leaping up off the sofa and darting to her bedroom.
We all watch in quiet awe as she proceeds to hack bank accounts and social media accounts and lord knows what else.
She pinpoints where Steve is being kept and figures out the names and phone numbers of the two thugs who were tracking the ex-girlfriend who’d snatched Steve.
Sam speaks to them on the phone, discovering they are not too far away, and we tell them we’re going to get Steve out, but they were free to deal with whoever else was there.
Two hours later, after a daring rescue from a dank basement, Steve is safe and sound in the hospital with Anna by his side. Sam drops me at home, and I trudge up to my apartment, dead on my feet now all the adrenaline has worn off.
Gus stretches, making a cute little quack, and I scratch the top of his head as I walk past, pulling my suit off as I make my way to my bedroom. I faceplant onto my cool sheets, closing my eyes.
A few seconds later I feel the mattress dip a little next to me, and the deep purrs of a happy Asparagus next to my ear send me off to sleep.
