Elegant Sins - Stasia Black Page 0,7

always said I just didn’t know how to enjoy life.

And he did always talk about wanting to get a boat someday to “spend a summer at sea” even though he knew nothing about sailing or ropes or driving a boat, nor did we live near a lake or the ocean. Not to mention that he couldn’t hold down a job for more than six months, so yeah, we weren’t exactly the “summer at sea” kind of folks.

Anyway, I was being ridiculous. Still, I went to my contacts and punched Kyle’s name. The phone rang. He didn’t pick up.

Why the hell wasn’t he picking up?

“Good, you’re still here. I need you to work a double.”

I looked up to see Bill dragging himself out of his ancient Toyota Camry. There was a lot of Bill for such a small car. First came his meaty thigh, then he grabbed the door and hefted the rest of his considerable bulk out.

He dabbed at the sweat coating his forehead from the effort once he was finally standing and slammed the car door shut behind him.

“Sorry, I can’t work tonight.” I shoved the phone into the pocket of my short shorts.

Damn it, I should have gotten out of here while I had the chance instead of sticking around to try to figure all this out.

Bill considered you fair game to do whatever he wanted if you were present on his property, labor laws be damned.

I started heading toward my car at a breakneck pace. It was one of my tricks. If I walked fast enough, there was no way he’d be able to catch up with me.

“I said I need you to work a double,” he shouted. “And if you don’t wanna be out of a job, you’ll stay and work.”

I stopped in my tracks and swore under my breath. My hands clenched into fists. Still not looking at Bill, I called back, “I’m having a really bad day, Bill. Can I please have the rest of the day off?”

Not even a second passed before his response: “Nope. Paula called in sick again. I need you.”

My vision went red, I swear. Paula was a drunk who got into harder shit whenever she could get her hands on it. She was a total crap waitress. But Bill didn’t fire her because every time he threatened to, she’d drink half a bottle of tequila and give him a handjob.

Sometimes I hated my fucking life.

I turned around and glared at Bill, hands on my waist. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re screwed unless I help you out tonight.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. “So, I’ll be back in half an hour. I gotta check on something at home. It can’t wait. Delilah’s got it till then. See you later.

“You fat fuck,” I finished under my breath as I spun on my heel and stomped toward my car.

3

Grace

This was officially the day from hell.

Fifteen minutes later, I sat cross-legged on my couch, swigging straight from the vodka bottle.

So, Kyle had fucked me.

All around me were the remnants of his hasty exit. His clothes were scattered all over the trailer. The ones that didn’t make it into his suitcase, I guess. His Xbox was gone. Along with the TV.

He’d left a note. His handwriting was so shit—it always had been—so it was a little hard to read. He didn’t say he was sorry. Like always, it was just an excuse.

You never let me live my dreams. Sandy says I need to choose me sometimes. So, I’m choosing me. Have a nice life. Bye —Kyle

Sandy. I knew the bitch. She’d been the class whore in high school.

Thank God I always made Kyle use condoms. Something he always bitched about, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I was on the pill and still made us use condoms. Double protection. I refused to reenact my mother’s life.

“Ha,” I whispered, looking at the bottle of vodka in my hand. I was doing a bang up job of not being her, day-drinking like this. I slammed the bottle down on the side table and swiped at my mouth.

Shit, how long had I been here? Bill was going to have my ass if I didn’t get back.

Blearily, I looked back down at my phone and fumbled until I finally clicked on Uber. Being a little drunk at work wasn’t the most professional, but it wasn’t like Delilah didn’t show up half drunk sometimes. And Paula was a barely functioning alcoholic who had a