Chapter 5

• APRIL
• It’s the end of the night, and I’m tired all the way down to my bones. Joe hasn’t come out of his office once, so it’s been up to Jammie and me to clean everything and get the place ready for tomorrow. I knock on his office door, but all he does is turn up the volume on his TV. I can hear it clearly — reruns of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, his favorite show and the reason he named this bar Goody’s. He’s doing it on purpose. He doesn’t want us asking about our paychecks again.
• I knock once more, but still nothing. So I go back to wiping down the counter, trying not to think about the guy who came in tonight. But it’s hard. Something about him keeps looping in my mind. Not just the way I wanted to throw myself into his arms when he walked up, or that calm confidence he had, the kind that makes everyone else in the room feel smaller. Not even the way he got me to talk about my dream of moving to Rome — a dream I’ve never told anyone before.
• It was the way he looked at me when he told me to take tomorrow off, like he was genuinely worried about me. That look still sits heavy in my chest.
• I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen here tomorrow.
• We’ve had strange things happen before at Goody’s, but I try not to dwell on them. Usually, it’s just Joe having private meetings in his office. People slip in, pass him envelopes, or walk out holding one. I’ve never asked what’s inside. I’m not stupid enough to risk losing this job. It’s the only steady one I’ve had since moving to Chicago, and high school dropouts like me don’t exactly have options waiting for them.
• Still, I keep telling myself it’ll change once I learn proper Italian. That’s the goal — get a qualification, build some confidence, move forward.
• Jammie’s in the bathroom refilling toilet rolls while I’m behind the bar scrubbing at the sticky surface that will never look clean no matter how much I try. What this place really needs is a full renovation. But Joe never spends money unless he has to. The fire extinguishers expired five years ago, the snacks could probably kill someone, and I’m pretty sure the smoke alarms are fake, just like the health certificates on the wall.
• I pause, thinking about what that man — Diablo — said to me. Should I actually take tomorrow off? I need the money, but the way he said it, so calm and certain… it’s like he knew something I didn’t.
• When Jammie comes back from the bathroom, it’ll be time to go. I make up my mind. Time to be brave for once.
• I walk up to Joe’s door again and start knocking — louder this time. He finally yells for me to go home.
• “Any chance I can take tomorrow off?” I call through the door, heart racing. I don’t think I’ve ever been this bold.
• The door swings open. Joe glares at me. “On a Friday night? You’ve got to be kidding. What for?”
• “I just need a night off. I’m exhausted.”
• “We’re all tired, honey. Most of us don’t complain about it to the boss.”
• “Come on, Joe,” Jammie says from behind me. “If she wants a night off, what harm could it do?”
• “You want to work the whole shift alone?” he snaps.
• “Well, no, but—”
• “The schedule’s set. You both better be here tomorrow,” he growls, pointing at us. “Or don’t bother coming back at all.” Then he slams the door shut and yells through it, “Now get the hell out of here. I’m busy.”
• Jammie looks at me and shrugs. “Is it just me, or is he even more lovable than usual?” She grabs her big black coat from the hook. “Come on, let’s leave the jerk to do whatever weird stuff he does in there while watching that show.”
• We lock up and head outside together. Her cab’s already waiting. “See you tomorrow,” she calls as she climbs in.
• I wave and walk next door to my apartment. When I open the door, Aria waves at me from the kitchen. “Want a drink?”
• “I thought you had a date tonight,” I say, hanging up my jacket.
• “That was a disaster. He brought his mom.”
• I blink. “You’re kidding.”
• “She wanted to ‘vet’ me first — her words. I told her she could keep her precious bundle and left. Then I met up with Ted from accounting again. Still awful. So me and Mr. Walmart made other plans. I got coffee, a bottle of Jim Beam, and new batteries for Lamuel. That’ll keep me satisfied till Jake tomorrow night.”
• I can’t help laughing. “You have more sex in a week than I’ve had in a lifetime.”
• “That’s because my standards are lower than yours. You’re out here waiting for Mr. Perfect. I just need a man with a pulse.”
• “Does the man need to be attached to it?”
• “Ideally, but not essential. Me and Lamuel are doing just fine.”
• I roll my eyes. “It’s still weird that you named your vibrator Lamuel.”
• “Only because you won’t name yours. What are you, the Queen of England? Until we find decent guys, it’s just us and the plastic fantastic. I’ll keep going until I get results — like your dad.”
• “Gross.”
• She laughs. “You keep waiting for love and getting nothing while your love life turns to dust — like your mom.”
• “Nice.”
• “Anyway,” she says, grinning, “enough about my romantic disasters. How was work?”
• “Same as always.” I drop into a chair, still thinking about the stranger from tonight. “Actually… no. Not the same.”
• “Ooh,” Aria teases. “Do tell.”
• “I met someone.”
• Her eyebrows shoot up. “And what was he like?”
• “Tall, handsome, dangerous looking. The kind of guy who never smiles. He asked my name… then told me to take tomorrow off work.”
• Aria places a mug of coffee in front of me, smirking. “Did you blow him?”
• “Only a couple of times,” I say dryly.
• She bursts out laughing. “That’s the real you,” she says, pointing at me. “Why doesn’t that version ever show up at work? You should walk in there like you own the place.”
• I shrug. “I’m different around you. We grew up together.”
• “So you can be yourself with me but not with anyone else, huh?”
• “Exactly.”
• “You’re never going to get laid like that, April. You should’ve dragged him into the bathroom and taken care of business right there.”
• “Correction — that’s your way of handling things.”
• “Hey, it works.” She takes a sip of coffee, hiding a grin. “So, what really happened tonight?”
• “Nothing.”
• “Liar. I know you, something definitely happened.”
• I sigh. “Okay, fine. But you’ll say I’m overthinking again.”
• “Never know till you tell me.”
• “Right. So… there was this guy.”
• “It’s a bar, April. There are guys every night. What made this one special?”
• “Italian, for starters.”
• Aria drags her chair closer, inch by inch, grinning like a cat. “Go on. That’s already a good sign. What else?”
• “Tall. Expensive suit. Short dark hair. Broad shoulders.”
• “On the suit? Bit weird.”
• “On him,” I say, smiling in spite of myself.