“Sorry, it’s just that I work a double every day,” I say.
“I’m sorry? Every day?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I work every day but Tuesdays. He has me working open to close,” I explain. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I got paid more than minimum wage, but the tips are nice sometimes… in hindsight, that made me sound a bit like a beggar. I’m sorry.”
“You apologize a lot,” he remarks as I use the towel to squeeze the water out of my hair. I have my long, dirty blonde hair pulled up into a high ponytail and it is also soaked. All of me, down to my underwear, is dripping wet. Cole sitting in front of me without a shirt on is certainly not helping.
Cole is a rugged man but fucking ripped. I think he could bench press a car if he tried. I don’t know what he does for a living, but it has to involve weights
“Force of habit,” I laugh nervously.
“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, opening the top pizza and offering me a piece.
“I’m not allowed to eat on shift,” I say and he almost chokes on the piece he’s just bitten into.
“What?” he asks.
“Yeah, Carl is weird about us eating company food on the clock,” I say. “But to answer your question, I generally eat when I get home. He sucks at giving breaks, so I just eat before and after work.”
“You work sixteen hours a day, Riley,” he says, shocked.
“I'm used to it,” I say with a smile. I was hoping that would relax him a bit, but it doesn’t.
“Why doesn’t he give you breaks?” he asks.
“No idea. He sure does take his breaks to fuck everyone he can get his hands on,” I say. “I shouldn’t be shitting on my boss to a customer.”
“I’ll come back to that,” he says. I furrow my eyebrows at him. “Eat.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Eat, Riley,” he says with a soft tone that takes me by surprise. I nod and take the pizza from him. “What time do you get off normally?”
“Uh, the restaurant closes at ten. I try to leave when the cooks leave though. I’m supposed to stay until Carl leaves,” I say, eating my pizza.
“Why don’t you stay?”
“Well… To be blunt, I’ve learned to not hang around for too long while alone with him,” I say.
“Why?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I feel like I’m missing something here,” I say, stalling.
“Why, Riley? Why don’t you like closing with him?”
“Ya know how I said he likes to fuck everything he can get his hands on?” I ask. Cole sighs and nods. “Well, we call him “Creepin’ Carl” behind his back. He has a habit of forcing himself on the girls. The guys try to look out for us, and we make sure to not be alone with him if we can manage it. He’s tried a couple times with me, but he’s always been interrupted by one of the cooks before it gets too far. None of us can do shit about it because jobs are few and far between around here without a degree. Food service is all I know.”
“Yeah… you’re not going back to work. I’ll call Carl and let him know,” he says.
“No,” I say as I stand. “You might have the luxury of taking time off anytime you want, but I have bills to pay.”
“Damnit, Riley,” he snaps but immediately softens again. “I will pay you for the rest of the day, but you are not going back to that restaurant with him.”
“And who the fuck are you to tell me…” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“You do realize I own that place, right? Carl just runs it,” he asks.
“Uh… no,” I say. “No one told me.”