Page 26

Chapter 26

Moxie

“Y ou don’t look so good,” Simon says, taking his usual seat across from me at the blackjack table.

“And you’ve reached a new low on pickup lines. That’s the worst one you’ve used on me yet.” The corner of his mouth quirks up the slightest bit, but it looks forced.

“I have a few others I've been wanting to try out, but you didn’t look like you were in the mood for it today. If it’d cheer you up though—”

“Why does everyone think I need cheering up?” I hiss, resisting the urge to turn around and make sure my boss isn’t witnessing me chewing out a player. I’m not sure what I'd get in more trouble for: taking my eyes off the table and the chips or snapping at Simon. I take a deep breath. “Sorry. Long day.”

The longest. The casino is dead today. My table has been empty for most of the first half of my shift. It’d been empty for the last ten minutes before Simon sat down.No players means no distractions, so I've had to spend this very long shift sitting with my thoughts and reliving the breakup with Wyatt.

I deal out a few hands and try to keep the conversation focused on Simon, but it isn’t working.

“Quit looking at me like that,” I snap, handing out his cards.

“Like what?” He taps the table for another card.

“I don’t know, like I’m Josie Geller in Never Been Kissed after the popular kids egged her.”

“Oh man, you do seem like that!” Genuine concern mars his features. He’s clearly familiar with the movie. I hadn’t even seen it until Hannah insisted on a slumber party, complete with the screening of multiple romcoms. “Is that what happened? You got stood up and egged?” I raise an eyebrow to remind him he needs to indicate whether he wants a card or not, and he unsurprisingly waves a hand to stay on nineteen.

“What? No. And I do not look like that,” I protest. I flip my other card, pull another and, “Dealer has twenty-one.” I swipe up his chips.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me. You don’t have to be so enthusiastic about taking my money.”

He’s right. I’m dragging Simon under my dark cloud, along with every one of the very few players who have sat at my table so far today. I’m a wreck. I hate that I let myself become so attached to Wyatt that I dared to imagine what might have been.

I quietly deal another hand, which he wins. “Yay,” I say quietly but genuinely.

“Are you really okay?” he asks.

My lower lip threatens a wobble, and I nod. He’s being kind, and I'm being a jerk. I still think he’d be a good option for Hannah if I can survive my own personal train wreck of a love life long enough to set them up. I’m spared from having to put on a happy face any longer by a tap on my shoulder.

“Break time. Boss wants to see you in her office,” says Blake, today’s break dealer.

In all my years working here, I can't remember ever being called back to the office for a talking-to. Maybe they picked up on my attitude with the players today after all. I probably should be freaking out, but I'm already too down to care. Let them write me up. I’ve never been in trouble before, and unless I’m pocketing chips, they aren’t going to fire me over one bad day.

I walk past the rows of ringing and flashing slot machines to the back office. I ought to be filled with dread, but with everything else I’m feeling, I can’t even bring myself to care. When I enter Sally’s office, I expect to find a stern expression, but she greets me with a wide smile.

“There she is! Thanks for coming back. Take a seat.” She gestures to the chair opposite her desk.

I force a smile and sit.

“How are you doing today?” she asks.

The question of the day. Sally’s a good boss. I like her well enough, but we’ve never quite reached authentic friendliness. I’m not about to tell her I’m wrecked because I broke up with my boyfriend.

Boyfriend. I finally got close enough to someone to use that term only to discover that our relationship was dooming another family to go through what mine did. I’m so lost, it feels like my head is on crooked. I squeeze the arm of the chair for stability.

The worst part is, because I’m the one who ended things, it feels like I don’t even have a right to be upset about it. I was getting in the way of his business. I did the right thing. At least I think it was the right thing.

“I’m doing okay,” I finally tell Sally. Better if I could get this over with, get through my shift, and go figure out how to get Wyatt off my mind. Belatedly, I remember my manners. “How are you?”

She beams back at me. “I’m doing great, and we’ll see if we can make your day even better.”

I straighten in my chair. I’m not in trouble after all. “What do you mean?”

“How long have you been working here?” she asks.

“Almost seven years.”

“I wanted to return to our discussion from family night. You’ve gotten a lot of experience under your belt. We’ve noticed what a great job you’re doing. The players love you, you’re quick with numbers, and you know all the games inside and out. I know you were considered for advancement a few years ago, but it says here in the file that you turned it down. I believe we asked you about it, but I don’t recall what your reasons were.” An unasked question hangs in the air.

I nod along, beginning to see where this is going.My heart beats faster as I swear the walls are moving towards me. Sally gives up on me explaining my past choices.

“Since Dylan left, we have a floor supervisor opening and we think you’d be perfect for the job. You’d still have some dealing shifts, but you’d have a raise for the shifts you supervise, and after some time training, you could supervise full time.”

I can’t move, like I'm frozen in carbonite. She folds her hands on the table in front of her and watches me expectantly. I know the appropriate response to this is to be squealing in delight. Okay, squealing isn’t really my thing, but I should be high-fiving her or something. This is a good thing. I know this, or at least some part of my brain does, but my body is having the complete opposite reaction. My muscles tense, and my stomach lurches with a sense of dread and panic.

“Moxie?” she frowns, clearly puzzled by my lack of enthusiasm.

My chest squeezes. Smile. Say thank you. Do something.

“I—” I choke on the word. One letter is all I can manage. Come on, pull yourself together. “Thank you.”

Sally’s forehead smooths out and she gives a hesitant smile.

“It’s well deserved, but I get the feeling I caught you off guard. We’d love to put some training shifts on your schedule in the coming weeks.”

I nod mechanically, knowing I should be saying more or asking questions, but the lump in my throat threatening to make me vomit is back. I want to get out of this room so I can calm myself down and try to figure out why I’m freaking out.

“Are you alright? You don’t look quite yourself.”

I pull myself out of my stupor and force a smile. “Yes, sorry, just surprised. I came in today expecting a regular Tuesday.”

Sally chuckles thinking I was making a joke. “I’m glad we were able to surprise you with good news. It’s a change and I know that can take some adjusting, so feel free to take a few days to consider.”

We talk for a few more minutes about scheduling and expectations. Rather, she mostly talks at me, and I nod and smile, trying to process what she’s saying. Finally, someone knocks at the door, and she excuses me.

“Let’s talk in two weeks and you can let me know what you’ve decided.”

I run from the office and straight to the break room where I hide in the corner to have a meltdown.

This was never supposed to be a career. I was supposed to breeze around town, exploring new possibilities. I thought I’d made it clear a few years ago that I didn’t want to move up. Advancement means being responsible for other people doing their job. Putting my trust in others is not what I signed up for. I ran from home to start a new life and avoid having everything and everyone I care about in one place. A promotion and more responsibilities will only entrench me further in this job that has already not been what I thought it would be.In fact, the only excitement I’ve had has been Wyatt.

“You all right over there?” asks a colleague whose name I can’t remember. I hope she’s new and not someone I didn’t notice before. Hannah would know everyone’s name.

“Fine,” I snap, immediately annoyed with myself for my inability to be civil. The clock looms down at me. I have to get back out there.

I return to my table and go through the motions, robotically dealing out cards and tugging at my collar. It’s all too fast. I can still back out of the job. If I take it, I might get stuck in a rut I’ll never escape. I might wind up losing that job when I'm older with no skills to do anything else. Talk about locking myself in a box.

My chest constricts further. I can’t breathe.

“Pit!” I shout to call the pit boss over. When there isn’t someone at my shoulder immediately, I yell again.

“What is it?”

“I have to go,” I say. “I need air. I have to—”

She must sense my panic because she steps in for me.

“Don’t worry, your shift is almost over. I’ll cover for you.”

I check out, and when I make it out the door, I gasp in the fresh air as if I haven’t had it in days. My breathing eases, but I’m staring down two huge decisions. Two pieces of my possible future weigh heavily on me. I collapse into sobs.