Even at a lazy pace, it feels so good, and I have to remind myself that it’s just sex — nothing more. But if I keep letting them talk me into coming over here, things are going to get complicated.
19
No way to live
“Did you look at your pay stub yet?” Becca asks, about twenty minutes into our shift at Rusty’s.
We’re at the counter, where I’m arranging three tall pilsner glasses on my tray. “No. Why?”
“We got a pay increase. I mean, it’s not huge, since tips make up most of it, but a couple more dollars per hour adds up.”
“Yeah?” Outside of tips, Rusty wasn’t paying us much, so this is good news. I’m glad the Stone brothers are thinking of the staff while they make other improvements to the bar.
When it’s time for my break, I decide to go outside and enjoy the warm night, since the weather’s supposed to turn tomorrow. There’s an out-of-the-way picnic table meant for staff use, and I step up to sit on top of it and breathe in the fresh air.
Earlier, I’d put my pay stub envelope in my locker without looking at it. Remembering
Becca’s news, I open my banking app to check the amount of the direct deposit. Based on what she told me, I’m expecting maybe $60 or $70 more, which will be a nice little weekly boost.
My app must be glitching. I log out, relaunch it, and … what the hell? At first, it’s a thrill to see such a big number as my account balance, but I know something’s not right.
I click for details, and right at the top of the transactions list is a deposit from Rusty’s for way, way too much money.
Three of the brothers are in the office. Barrett’s on the computer, Lincoln’s on his laptop, and Lennox is looking through the files.
“There’s been a mistake at your bank,” I announce. When they all look up, I explain, “My pay was deposited today and there are a couple more thousand dollars than there should be.”
The three of them are suspiciously silent in response.
“What’s going on?” Bronson says, coming in and closing the door behind him.
“A bank error,” I say. “Too much money was deposited into my account.”
“It wasn’t an error,” Bronson says.
“What do you mean it wasn’t an error?”
“We gave everyone a raise,” Barrett says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you give everyone a two-thousand-dollar raise?”
They’re silent again, which answers my question.
“Why did you do that?” I demand, raising my voice, but immediately regretting it, because the walls aren’t that thick here.
Bronson shrugs as he steps over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. “We wanted to give you money.”
“Stop!” I push away from him. “Touching me and telling me you want to give me money makes me feel like you’re paying me for sex. I spend two nights with you and you give me two thousand dollars?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Caroline,” Barrett says, his voice hard.
“Why did you do it? Do you think I need your money?”
“We don’t like to see you struggling,” Lennox says.
My vision goes red. “What about me makes you think I’m struggling? Just because I don’t own a company and I can’t buy a business as easily as I can buy a cup of coffee doesn’t mean I’m struggling.” I glare at each of them in turn. “Yes, I work hard, but I do just fine. Who are you to blow back into town after all these years and label my life a struggle?”
I storm out, slamming the door behind me.
I want very badly to leave entirely, but I won’t do that to Becca. I do need to find a new job, though. This is the last straw.
There are still a few minutes left on my break, so I go back outside, wishing now that the weather was colder because my skin feels like it’s on fire. The side door of the building opens and bangs shut, and I brace myself for a fight with the Stone brothers, but instead it’s Christine who comes around the corner.
“Caz, you okay?”
“I’m all right.” Though I feel like pacing, I climb back onto the table and hug my arms around my legs, wishing I could curl up and disappear.
“You’re clearly not, and I know there was some kind of fight in there. What’s going on?”
“They’re forcing money on me,” I say.
She frowns. “Forcing money on you?”
“I keep telling them I don’t need their money, and now that they own Rusty’s, they put extra money in my pay.”
“We all got extra money,” she says gently.
“Not like this,” I say. “It was a lot. For some reason they think I’m struggling, and they want to interfere in my life.”
“I wish someone would interfere in my life by forcing cash on me,” Christine jokes. “But seriously, why does it bother you so much?”