Kickstart My Heart (Burgers and Brew Crue #1) - Lacey Black Page 0,4
cheeks as I give him a quick grin and fly out the door. I don’t look back at the other eyes, even though I can feel them on me. Instead, I keep my gaze locked forward, as it should be. My motto is don’t look back, and I’m trying to stick to it. Lord knows, my past is nothing to look back on willingly.
I hop into my beat-up Ford Escape and head toward my apartment. It’s on the edge of town, just a short ten-minute drive to my new place of employment. It’s somewhat mild for late August, which I’m grateful for, since the air-conditioning works at fifty percent on a good day. Instead of grumbling about the temperature of air filtering through, I opt to roll down the windows and let the warm breeze blow my hair.
Smiling, I think back to my interview. I was so stinking nervous. I haven’t had to do a formal interview in forever. My last two jobs were cashier at our local grocery store and merchandise stocker at the farm supply store. Both positions I was offered without so much as a glance at my application, much less a reference check. See, my hometown of Gibson, Indiana was small enough where everyone knew everyone, and if you didn’t know someone, there was always another employee willing to vouch for you. That’s what you get with a town of twenty-four hundred.
The best part about today’s interview was the position. Day shift server. That never would have happened in Gibson. All the best shifts are taken by the older servers, and all the later shifts are for those with less seniority. Those usually involved less hours. I always fell in the last category.
As I pull into the dinky apartment parking lot, with potholes the size of buckets, I recall the moment my eyes met Walker’s. There was definitely something there. Lust. I could see it written all over his handsome face. I’m not oblivious to the look a man gives a woman when he’s thinking about getting her naked. Hell, not that long ago, I was used to seeing that look on a man who I thought adored and cherished me.
Boy, was I wrong.
Rolling up the windows, I slip out of my car and make sure it’s locked. This apartment is in a somewhat questionable part of town, but I can’t beat the price. Rent and utilities for a two-bedroom, one bath, third-floor apartment for only four hundred a month. You just have to ignore the stained carpet, the yellowed linoleum and ceilings from cigarette smoke, and the window air-conditioning unit that sounds like a plane landing in the living room.
It’s home.
I’m making the best of this fresh start.
I hit the dollar store and bought carpet cleaner, some scrub brushes, and a few rugs. I can’t afford to repaint it yet, but I’m hoping after a few weeks’ worth of tips, I’ll have some extra cash saved up for those little details. The landlord made it very clear he wasn’t worried about splashing some paint on the walls, so instead of complaining about the dinginess of the space, I decided to take it upon myself to help spruce it up.
As I hit the concrete steps, I slip my hand into my purse and pull out my keys. The front door is propped open, the tenants apparently more concerned about airing out the hallways than their own safety if the wrong person snuck in. I push those thoughts out of my head, though, and head up the stairs. When I hit the platform for the second floor, I make my way down the short hallway to the last apartment on the left. Number 205.
I knock loudly over the sounds of Wheel of Fortune coming through the old wooden door. “Just a minute!” the deep, older voice hollers.
The moment the door is unlocked and opened, I smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Fritz.”
She shuffles back, granting me entrance. “Hey, Mallory. How’d the interview go?”
“Really well,” I tell her, entering the apartment that’s identical to my own. “I got the job. I start tomorrow.” I’m all smiles now, anxious to start earning my own paycheck again.
Mrs. Fritz grins, her aging eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh, I’m glad,” she replies, shuffling toward her old rocking chair.
“Mama!” The sweetest sound ever fills the living room as my daughter comes running toward me.
“Hi, Lizzie Lou. Did you have fun with Mrs. Fritz?”
She nods, her big green eyes sparkling and her blonde pigtails bobbing.