Morgan
“I know,” I said as I rushed through the front door of the Sub Shop. “I’m late.”
Today had been a day from hell. First my car wouldn’t start and then I missed the bus by less than thirty seconds. I could literally see it as the driver pulled onto University Ave., leaving me behind to yell out a few choice words. I was then forced to walk eight and a half blocks, feeling the perspiration pool between my breasts and along the back of my neck. Which all in turn made me late. Fifteen minutes late, to be exact.
“Mitchell is in the back, and he’s in a mood,” Trina told me as I moved past the counter toward the time clock.
“When isn’t he?” I asked just as I pushed open the door. There, only a few feet away, sat Mitchell, his arms crossed over his chest, staring directly at the door. It was as if he was waiting on me. “Car troubles and I missed the bus,” I said in explanation as I moved toward the time clock in a hurry.
“You do know this is strike two.”
I looked over at him, feeling confused. I had never been late before.
“You called in last Tuesday, without proper notification, and left us short staffed,” he added. “We are swarming with college kids daily, and working with less than four at all times isn’t acceptable.”
“My brother fell out of his wheelchair and we had to take him to the emergency room.” I could feel the anger growing inside me. “My mother needed my help.”
“You are still in probation period, Morgan,” he stated, leaning forward in the chair. He dared me to argue and damn it, I wanted to, but chose to bite my tongue instead. “Though I understand your situation,” I didn’t much care for his tone or his wording when referring to my family, “you have to understand mine. Your brother is not your responsibility.”
Oh hell no, he didn’t.
“Let me stop you right there,” I said, holding up my hand. The last thing I wanted was to lose my job, but there was no way I was going to let this arrogant bastard say another word without me setting something very clear. “With all due respect, you were fully aware of my responsibilities outside of work when you hired me. My brother may not be my son, but he is most definitely my responsibility. He will always come first, regardless of what I may have to set aside in order to go to him. He is not a ‘situation’ and I would greatly appreciate you remembering that little detail. You may be my boss, but that does not give you the right to be an ass.”
Okay, so the ass comment may have been a little too much, but my blood was boiling and my hands were shaking with the desire to punch this prick.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I added. “Are you?” I was challenging him. He was a twenty-year-old college dropout who thought he could treat us college kids like his property. He was smug, and though I had been working here less than a month, there was no way I’d allow him to treat me like an incompetent fool.
“As I said, this is strike two,” he continued. “I should make it three, considering you just called me an ass, but I’ll let that one slide.” He stared at me as if giving me the chance to say more. I didn’t. “I’m sorry that I was insensitive, but again I have to run this place, and to do so I need reliable employees.”
“I understand,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Good, then,” he said, standing from his desk. “We understand one another.”
I remained standing in the same place until he moved past me and out through the door that led to the shop in front. The moment I heard the door click behind me I fisted my hands and kicked at the ground. Spinning in circles, throwing my best version of a tantrum, to keep from storming out there and tackling the asshole.
“Arrogant, no good…” I let the words fade as I moved toward the time clock and yanked out my card. The words rolling around in my mind would surely have me fired on the spot. No one, and I do mean no one, ever, made Toby out to be an issue. I meant what I said—he would always come first.
I spent a couple of extra minutes in back, doing my best to tame the beast still roaring inside of me before going out front. Purposely avoiding eye contact with Mitchell, I began filling the station with fresh veggies and making sure the sauces were full. Trina already had fresh bread made and was currently loading in another tray. Miles was in the lobby, cleaning tables and floors before we unlocked the doors.
My mood was shit, and honestly, I just wanted the day to be over.
Continuing to stay to myself, I positioned myself behind the counter when Miles unlocked the front doors and the first customer entered the lobby.
Mitchell was right; we were busy, like always. The Sub Shop was within walking distance of the University of Florida. It was a cheap place to eat, and something fast, so we were on a constant rotation of new customers. It was one of the things I loved about this job—for the most part, the hours went by in a rush.
It was only an hour before my shift ended, and though I still had no idea how I’d get home, I was glad it was almost over.
I’d gone to the back to grab another container of onions and left Trina and Miles manning the counter. Hurrying back through the door, I quickly slipped around Miles and removed the empty container to replace it with the full. I wasn’t really paying attention to the customers as I scanned over the remaining items to see if anything else was getting low.
“Hey,” a deep gruff voice said loudly, gaining my attention. A tall guy, with sandy blond hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen stood before me with a big smile on his face. “I know you,” he added, looking at the guy to his left.
“Sorry, I think you have me mixed up with someone else.” I reached out and lifted the sweet peppers and began to turn away but was stopped in my tracks by his next words.
“You’re the blonde that X took home from the party last weekend.” He said something to the guy he was with and they both chuckled. I was that girl, I guess. The girl who got nailed by a fraternity guy and later became just another girl they passed stories around about. “He slept for a day to recover.”
“You’ve got it wrong,” I said, staring back at the guy. “I took him home. He served a purpose and now, I’m done.” I walked away, satisfied with the look I left on their faces. But in my head I was only irritated that I let myself be another party whore. Honestly, what in the hell was I thinking? Had I honestly expected he wouldn't run back and tell all the guys about our night? The thing was he didn't remember, so my guess is he made shit up just so he could be the man. A slap on the back, a few way to gos from his brothers, as he went on about screwing the desperate girl.
Guys were assholes.
By the time I came back out from the back, the guys were already gone and I ignored the curious looks that Miles and Trina were giving me. Neither of them were going to get details; they could think what they wanted. I have never been the type of girl to give a shit what people thought of me and I sure as hell was not going to start now.