So, Drew had obviously decided to replace the beer at his own expense rather than risk one of Chuck’s hissy fits, but Drew earned a pittance. That beer would be two night’s wages for him.
Drew sighed. I wasn’t even sure how he’d carried a case of beer in here. He was such a spindly kid. I wasn’t sure where he’d bought a case of beer, either. He must’ve gone to an all-night place after work.
“What are you doing now?” I asked then looked in the cool room. Beer and smashed glass cover the floor. To clean it up, Drew would have to move everything out, mop the place and then move it all back. It’d take him hours.
“I want to get all this cleaned up before Chuck gets in,” he said. “Do you know when that’ll be?”
I shrugged. “You know he breezes in when he feels like it.”
“If he turns up in the next few hours, can you cover for me?” Drew asked.
“Sure thing.”
He didn’t need to ask. Everyone working at Trouble covered for each other when it came to Chuck. He was such a jerk, and mates looked out for each other.
I took another
look at that cool room. Shit, Drew had made a mess. The poor kid would exhaust himself cleaning it out before his shift even started.
Frowning, I considered helping him. But I didn’t have time. I had enough work of my own to deal with.
I walked into my office. Calling it my office was a total overstatement. It was an office in the way that offices have desks and chairs and that people work in them but that was about it. My office was little more than a broom closet, buried deep in the back of the building. It had thin wood panel walls, one with a hole punched through it, and it reeked of booze and mildew.
I had a ratty old desk and a chair. The sofa I used for my naps had been dragged out of the club when it'd gotten too busted up to be safe. There was a hole under the cushions and, if you didn't sit on it just right, you could end up buried. I'd thrown a blanket over it so my skin didn't come into contact with the fabric, because fuck knows what cocktail of body fluids had ended up on it.
Drew sighed. He’d been here as late as I had last night. Even if he screwed up, he really did try his best and he copped the worst of Chuck’s rages.
I glanced at my sofa. The promise of that nap later tempted me so hard. If I helped Drew out, I’d barely have time.
I turned on my crappy computer while Drew ran water to fill the mop bucket. If he mopped before sweeping the glass out, he’d get all the broken glass embedded in the mop. Any fool would know that.
I could just put on my headphones and ignore him. He’d learn the hard way.
“Drew, maybe you should sweep the glass out first.”
He ducked his head through my doorway. “Sure thing.”
Scribbled notes covered my desk. All that stuff had to be added to my spreadsheet then put into a bunch of emails. And this old computer ran so slow that it’d take forever. The stupid thing still whirred into start-up mode.
I downed the rest of my coffee then walked to the door. Drew hauled a crate out of the cold room but couldn’t find anywhere to put it.
If I didn’t get the listings done on time, I’d be the one Chuck yelled at, not Drew. I couldn’t worry about him. Not when I had my own shit to think of.
Then I groaned.
It’d be so much faster with both of us working. I got up with one last sorrowful look at the sofa. It’d be a long day.
“Get me some rubber gloves, Drew,” I said. “I’ll help you clean out the storeroom.”
“Thanks, Violet.”
I might regret this later but the glow of Drew’s grin told me I was doing the right thing.
Chapter 2 VIOLET
I WOKE UP CRANKY, AS you do when someone disturbs your precious dreams. Who the hell was in my office anyway? This was the off-limits part of Trouble, even when the club was open – which it shouldn’t be yet, judging by the quiet of the place. I jumped up, ready to brain the intruder with whatever was closest to hand. I reached out and found my boot, hurling it at the spot the noise had come from.
"Shit, Violet, what was that for?"