17. Blink Twice if You’re in Trouble
Sophie
I’m tempted to call in dead. Jared can’t expect me to come in if I’m six feet under, can he?
I had zero luck last night. I checked several job listing sites as I inhaled my tacos, but nothing felt like a good fit. I tossed and turned all night with an upset stomach, the dread lodged there churning those damn tacos until I felt like I was going to puke.
When I got up this morning, I made a cup of coffee and set it aside while I checked for any new job listings that may have gone up since I checked last night. By the time I realized there was nothing, my coffee had grown cold. I opened the microwave to heat it, then almost puked for real when I found the burrito I’d nuked last night before rushing out.
So, yeah, I’m not having a great morning.
I finish dressing and look at my reflection. I look good in the black pencil skirt with a slim-fitting white blouse tucked in at the waist. My long red hair is twisted up into a sleek bun at my nape, and my red lips match my heels perfectly. I look down and twist my ankles to examine the shoes.
The last time I wore these, I won a free loaf of bread on a scratch-off ticket at the grocery store. I’d stopped for some junk food on my way home from a charity event, and the cashier gave me the ticket for spending over twenty dollars.
When I won, she said it was my lucky day. And if there’s even the smallest chance these shoes brought me that luck…
I need all the luck I can get.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I nod at my reflection. I look good. Ready to face the asshole.
I whip up a quick lunch to take with me. I don’t know if I’ll get an actual lunch break, or if I’ll be forced to stay at my desk, so I want to be prepared. No way am I going hungry if Jared decides to be an ass and tells me to work through lunch.
I give myself a continuous pep talk that lasts the entirety of the drive to the casino.
I’m not fired. He would’ve emailed me if that were the case.
I can handle his surliness. I’m a strong, independent woman, and I know how to take care of myself.
I did NOT think he looked sexy as fuck last night, all riled up and grumpy. He’s not sexy. At all. He’s an asshole, and I hate him. And I did not toss and turn all night after the anger wore off and I realized just how non-sexy he looked. Because he’s not. Sexy, that is.
By the time I pull into the employee parking structure, I’m a hot mess…thanks to that last train of thought.
I have eyes. And Jared Hart is pleasing to them. But that’s the only part of him that’s pleasing. He’s a pompous, patronizing ass who always gets what he wants, regardless of who he has to step on to obtain it.
At least, that’s my personal experience with him. If there are any layers between his good looks and his black soul, I haven’t seen them. And I don’t care to. As soon as I find someplace else to work, I’m out of here, and Jared Hart will be in my rearview mirror, for good.
When I enter the building from the parking structure, the chaotic music of hundreds of slot machines rings in my ears, perking me up a bit. I bypass the bank of elevators and cross the main floor to the coffee shop near the front entrance. I need some fortification, and I decide to grab one for Jared, too.
Maybe he won’t be such an ass if I show up with a little liquid gold. That is…if he hasn’t already started the termination process after my little exhibition last night.
“Hey, Sophie, right?”
I turn to see a blond guy in a suit striding toward me with an outstretched hand. I take it, giving him a firm handshake as I study his face.
“You look familiar. Have we met?” I ask, cocking my head.
“Not officially, though I have seen you in your pajamas,” he says with a mischievous grin.
“Oh, God,” I say, a laugh bursting out of me, unbidden. “You were at the restaurant last night.”
“Sam Simmons, head pit boss and Jared’s BFF,” he says, his grin widening.
“BFF?” I ask, giving him a look of mock horror. “Blink twice if you’re in trouble. If he’s blackmailing you or holding a family member hostage, we can go to the authorities. I promise, they can help.”
He throws back his head and bellows out a laugh. When he looks back at me, his expression settles into a soft smile.
“I can see why he likes you.”