Page 9 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)
T he mattress springs creaked as Lennon rolled over in bed, her consciousness reluctantly drifting awake.
She tried to coax it back to sleep, uninterested in joining the world of the living yet, but it didn’t relent.
A pounding headache surfaced. Her eyelids were crusted shut and sinuses stuffed like the breadsticks she’d devoured after last night’s shift, now digesting in her stomach like a brick.
One shred of bittersweet reprieve had shone upon her in the form of a day off from the restaurant. Bittersweet because she’d been booked for a full day at the recording studio. Ha, ha. The universe had jokes.
Lennon reached over her head, fumbling for the phone on the dresser behind her to check the time. Half past one in the afternoon. A few text message notifications sat below it—one from Erin, one from her boss, and a spam message telling her she’d won a free cruise to the Mediterranean.
Erin: Call me whenever you want, honey. I’ll be free all day. Love you.
Lennon smiled, her bruised heart curling up in the warmth of her best friend’s message.
By the time she got home from work last night, she’d been too exhausted to talk to anyone.
She grabbed a bag of breadsticks and a pizza slice on the way home, inhaling it before even making it to her third-floor walk-up. She showered and passed out.
She needed to pee first before she launched into that phone call and exhumed all the emotions she’d spent the last twenty-four hours repressing. Sitting up, she tapped on her boss’s message.
Ray: Hey. I need you to come in this afternoon for a meeting.
Was he fucking serious? A downside of her being the go-to for covering last-minute shifts: He assumed she didn’t have a life outside of work.
The realization that she didn’t have a life outside of work hit her with depressing irony.
Lennon: Is it mandatory?
Impromptu meetings with the serving staff were rare, unless something critical happened, such as a failed health inspection, a food recall, or an unexpected visit from corporate.
Whatever it was, why did it have to happen today ?
She’d been looking forward to sulking all day in her apartment and not changing out of her pajamas.
Her bladder reminded her of all the soda she’d guzzled before bed, so she dropped her phone on the bed and stood, stretching out the kinks in her neck and back.
A new message dinged from the blankets as she slipped on a pair of shorts under her faded, oversized Queen tee and pushed her feet into some sliders, readying herself for the trek down the hall to the shared bathroom. She grabbed her phone.
Ray: It’s important. Won’t take long. Can you be here at three?
A funny feeling stirred in Lennon’s stomach. Her thumbs were poised to tell him to fuck off in a polite, professional way—that she had other commitments she couldn’t break—but she couldn’t risk making waves. Opus 21 was her only gainful employment.
Lennon: Sure.
So much for a slow day. She’d have to quickly pull herself together and grab food on the way to the train. She swiped over to Erin’s text thread.
Lennon: Love you, too. I have to go in for a work meeting at 3. I’ll call you after. Have the popcorn ready.
Walking into work on a day off always felt like being at school after hours. Lennon hoped that whatever this meeting was about, it would be quick. She passed Gordon in the hallway, who gave her a look like a teacher seeing a student in the faculty break room.
“Tits. Do you ever take a day off?” he asked.
“What are those?” Lennon quipped dryly. “I’m here for the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
An unsettling ripple thrummed through her. The realization hit him at the same time, his eyebrows rising grimly.
“Hey, Lennon,” Ray said, calling their attention to where he straddled the threshold of his office, drumming his stubby fingers on the doorframe. He gave her a thin-lipped smile as he tilted his head toward his office. “Let’s chat in here.”
As he stepped back inside, Lennon glanced at Gordon. He sent her a “good luck, comrade” expression before she followed their manager.
Lennon’s skin turned clammy. She blinked away the flashbacks to walking into the record executive’s office yesterday morning, but in their place, she began rapidly analyzing everything she did during her last shift.
Had she made a mistake on something? Charged someone wrong? Accidentally accepted counterfeit cash?
“What’s up?” Lennon asked as she met him at the door, where he stood waiting.
“Take a seat.” Ray gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.
He closed the door behind her, then settled into his faux-leather office chair.
A puff of air squeaked out of the mechanism as he sank into it.
He clasped his hands in front of him as she lowered herself into one of the smaller stationary chairs across from him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“So … I’m just going to rip the bandage off. We received a complaint from a guest.”
A little jolt to the heart rocked her system, surprise warring with confusion. “About me?”
“Correct.”
“From who? I don’t remember anyone complaining about anything recently.”
“She was part of the large party you served last night. The one you shared with Gordon.”
Understanding chimed. Lennon briefly closed her eyes. Avery’s group.
“One of them said you got her order wrong and then argued with her about it,” Ray explained. “She said you tried to make her look ‘stupid’ and embarrassed her in front of everyone, and that her dish still didn’t come out right the second time.”
“Is this the one who asked for a well-done steak and then complained when it was well-done?”
His exasperated expression suggested he found this situation as ridiculous as she did. With a curt nod, Ray answered her question.
Lennon scoffed. “All I did was tell her that what she was asking for was a medium -cooked steak. Then, she was upset because it got cold while she didn’t touch it for several minutes.”
Ray emitted a long sigh as he circled his thumbs around each other. “I know, I know. I get it. But you know our approach to things like this. The customer is always right.”
“Well, in this case, she isn’t. I didn’t try to make her look stupid. She did that all on her own.”
Ray pressed his thin lips into a line. “Be that as it may, she’s put me in a tough position.
She wouldn’t accept any of my offers to fix the situation.
There was only one thing she wanted.” He squeezed his hands together, the skin around his eyes pinching under his glasses as he looked at Lennon.
“I’m afraid we have to temporarily suspend you. ”
The words bounced off her ear drums, striking but not fully permeating. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Lennon. She threatened to post a scathing review on her social media if we didn’t do something about it.
She has, like, a fucking million followers,” Ray said, a touch defensively as if he was the one going through a life-altering situation.
He leaned back, the office chair squeaking with the motion.
“Hey, she wanted you fired. I’m only suspending you. ”
Lennon’s ears pulsed, the sound of his voice muffled through the rush of blood. Everything else inside her went still. “Without pay?” she clarified.
He stared at her for a moment, then faced his palms out and smiled ruefully in a “that’s how it works” gesture.
Lennon pressed her tongue into her cheek, trying to process what was happening. “When can I come back?”
“A month or two should be enough for her to forget about it.”
She released a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “A month? I don’t have another job, Ray. This is my job.”
“Then, I suggest you start looking for one. I’ll give you a glowing reference. And hey—you’ve got that record deal, right? You’re not gonna need us soon, anyway.”
Lennon blinked back tears, wishing the earth would open and swallow her.
“Look, you’re one of our best servers. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding another job. I hear that diner a few blocks off Broadway is hiring. The one with the singers. That’d be perfect for you.”
It took everything in her not to break right then and there.
Lennon looked away from him, sucking in her lower lip and biting down. Her gaze landed on the framed photograph of a mountain with the words “BELIEVE AND SUCCEED” written beneath it, hanging on the pale beige wall.
This can’t be happening.
“I’ll draw it up and email it to you by Monday,” Ray said. “Remember, this is temporary.”
This couldn’t be happening, but it was.