by Tia Siren
“Well, it’s Friday, and... and that’s all the indication I needed really.”
Liz came into the store every Friday to help herself to the exact same treat. It had all but become routine by this point. I should have named the brownies after her, considering how many she’d eaten since I started working here.
“Don’t just stare at my fat ass,” she said thickly, through a mouthful of brownie. “Eat some.”
I shook my head and watched in envy as my best friend devoured brownie after brownie. Despite her personal claims, Liz was gorgeous. Big brown eyes complemented her cute pixie face, and dark hair spilled down her shoulders. She also had a body to die for. She had one of those stick-thin frames that you would see on the cover of fashion magazines and bikini blogs. It couldn’t have been more different than my own body.
“Oh, please,” Liz continued. “Don’t you dare start with that tired old complaint about how fat you are. If you do, I’m going to take my brownies and go. Don’t think I won’t.”
I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t far off these days. I had always been curvy, ever since I was a teenager. But as a teenager, that figure was easy to maintain. As in, I didn’t have to maintain it at all. Now that I was a little older and worked in a candy store, of all places, I was about one brownie away from officially having to go up a size.
“Jesus,” Liz moaned. “How many times do I have to tell you? I would kill for your body. Have you seen your butt lately? If you haven’t, I guarantee you, most of the men that come in here have—”
Luckily, the ringing of the store phone interrupted Liz’s rant. I answered it willingly, glad for an excuse to cut Liz’s spiel short.
“This is Kendra speaking, how may I help you?”
“Kendra, it’s Grant.”
“Oh, hello Mr. Marcus.” Considering who it was on the other end of the line, I half wished that I hadn’t answered and let Liz finish her piece. The caller was Grant Marcus, the owner of both the store and company.
“Kendra, how many times do I have to tell you? Grant is fine, especially considering our history. Don’t make me order you to start calling me by my first name.” He spoke to me in the same manner that he always did. It was an arrogant, self-knowing tone that reeked of entitlement.
“Okay, fine. Grant. What can I do for you?” Grant and I had a history that went beyond the realms of the simple employer-employee relationship. He and I used to date, and although it was eons ago, I always got the sense that he had never quite forgiven me for breaking up with him.
“First, you can tell your friend Liz that she owes me roughly two hundred dollars in Diablo Fudge back payments. And secondly, you can join me for dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?” I sputtered, instantly regretting my knee jerk reaction. He had caught me off guard with the request, one that he had never made before. And if I knew him, which I did, he delighted in my shocked reaction.
“Yes. It’s a pretty standard meal. Usually, comes at night time. Although it can be eaten alone, tonight I would like the company.” His voice was patronizing on the other end of the line. “I have something we need to discuss.”
“Discuss?” I asked, turning my back on Liz who was trying to get my attention as she mouthed profanities at me, or more likely, at Grant on the other end of the line. “Discuss what?”
“We’ll save it for tonight. I want to be looking at you when I tell you. I’ll email you the details. And please don’t be late. I hate tardiness.” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving me hanging on the other end, completely confused.
“What did that jerkoff want?” Liz asked the moment I hung the phone up.
Liz had never liked Grant. To her, he was my underappreciative boss who worked me to the bone and took advantage of me whenever he could, which was more often than not. Since I started working for him, I had pulled more late nights than I had normal ones, and I was constantly on the receiving end of his venom.
When I first started, I made the mistake of telling her that Grant and I used to date. Since then, Grant had been at fault for everything that was wrong with my life, at least according to Liz. She blamed him for the fact that I was single. For what she called my low self-esteem and for my weight gain. Although that last one, she had never actually said out loud.
“He wants to have dinner with me tonight,” I said. “Although he didn’t say why.”
“Don’t go,” Liz said instantly.
I scoffed at her suggestion, knowing full well that I had no choice. He was my boss after all, a fact that I hated every time I thought about it. I had never meant to work for Grant, and when we dated, I never dreamed that one day I would. Back in high school, he was the last person I thought would ever be a success. But when I came to New York and needed a job, I applied at the store, having no idea that he was the owner. Although he hired me willingly, he seemed to relish the fact that he was now in charge of me. As if it was some sick form of payback for dumping him all those years ago.
“Fine,” Liz said. “Go. But order the most expensive thing on the menu. And flirt with the waiter. And make sure you put the girls on display so he knows what he’s missing.”
Liz carried on with ways to torture Grant, but I slowly phased her out. Unfortunately, I was far too preoccupied with thoughts of what Grant would want to discuss. I had gone to him asking for a promotion last month and subtly implied that I might quit if I didn’t get one. Was he going to give me one? Or worse, was he going to fire me?
Whatever it was, I really hoped it wasn’t bad news. Considering the way that my life was currently going, I didn’t think I could handle any more bad news.
END OF SAMPLE
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