Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
She jumps up and grabs her phone. “I’m texting Eve and Dolly.”
“Stop texting. Poor Joy. She’s the only one working. We have to get back on the floor,” Charlie grumbles, and I feel awful that I completely forgot about work.
“Antoinette, are you okay now?”
I give her a small smile. “I’ll survive.” I nod.
“You’re fantastic,” Cindy says. “I mean, I’m horrified for you about telling Axel you love him, but he didn’t break up with you, so hey.” Cindy stands and straightens her shirt.
“I’m sorry, but did you two not hear that he admitted that MJ is his one true love? For God’s sake.” I throw my hands up. “He loves her so much he has her initials tattooed on his hand.”
“Oh, fuck.” She looks at Charlie and back at me. “Are you serious?”
Charlie steps in front of her and sighs like this is seriously bad. “Okay. First, Axel should have told you the truth. MJ stands for Mary Jane.” She nods at me and again it sounds even worse having her full name.
“Where is she?” My eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, Antoinette.” Charlie grabs my hands. “Oh God, I thought you knew.” She shakes her head. “Mary Jane is Marijuana. Axel is saying he loves pot, not a woman.”
“What?” I shout and pull my hands away.
“Yeah, trust me. Axel has never been with one woman for more than a week besides you.” She rubs my arm. “So, let’s all get back to work. I’m sure Joy hates us.”
“Wait, it’s pot?”
“Yep.” Cindy nods while she texts.
“He let me think it was a woman.” I look at them.
“I know, dick move, but that’s—”
I hold up my hand. “Please don’t say that’s Axel.”
She laughs but looks at me like it’s true and goes back to her phone. “Okay. I’m telling Eve to get us a table at Casa Vega for later on. We’re celebrating your birthday and the fact that you found out who Axel’s true love is.” She giggles and puts her phone in her bag.
“You can stay at my place.” With that, she walks out.
I look at Charlie who walks past me saying, “Maybe you should rest today.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll be right there after I put a little makeup on.” I hold up Cindy’s giant bag. I’m sure I look and sound crazy because I feel crazy.
“Okay, I’m going to get back out there.”
Nodding, I smile at her, but my mind is racing.
I’m stunned.
Floored.
I’m an idiot.
I pretty much acted like a jealous weirdo over pot? Mary Jane?
MJ.
I feel like texting him, but he hates phones even though he’s on one twenty-four seven.
“Okay.” I breathe out and open up Cindy’s makeup bag and start to dig. She’s got more makeup than any woman I’ve seen. And that includes my makeup artist for performances.
I used to feel bad for Cindy. She tries so hard to be perfect. I snort at myself. That’s a joke. I need to be feeling sorry for myself.
I’m basically falling to pieces. At least Cindy has an apartment. I don’t even know how to begin with all this stuff, so I use some concealer under my eyes. Light mascara in case I start crying again and some plum-colored lipstick.
Holding the mirror away from my pale face, I acknowledge I need some blush. Quickly I brush on a pale plum color and call it a day. I need to get out there, I’m already so late.
Walking out, I give Victor a big smile that seems to make him happy. The oil sizzles as he places a bunch of freshly cut potatoes into the fryer. I grab a pen, wrap my hair up with a rubber band, and stick my pen in. Making my way out to the floor, I instantly groan.
Not this guy again.
This is the fifth day in a row that he’s come in and he always sits in my section. I know this because I switched yesterday. He creeps me out and Joy said she’d take him. But he got up, left, and came back an hour later to sit in my section.
I’m not in the mood today at all. Squaring my shoulders, I debate whether I’m gonna bring him a menu. He always has the same thing. Three eggs runny with burned white toast and a side of a burger patty. He eats about half of it and repeats it the next day.
“Hey you, happy birthday. Your boyfriend’s back.” Joy winks at me and slaps my ass with a bar towel as I roll my eyes and pass her. He’s sitting at the Dr. Strangelove table. A sign? A sign that my day has gone from good too bad to worse?
I plaster on a fake smile. At least he’s a great tipper. “Hi, how are you today?” He looks up and I almost take a step back. Today he seems agitated. His thumb is tapping the table as if he’s been waiting and is upset. I turn to look over my shoulder as if I’m checking on something, so I can move back and not look like he’s freaking me out.