“Since it was my suggestion, I'd rather make sure we’re on time. Anyways, we gotta pick up the donuts.”
“Hey, who do you suppose is covering our shifts? It wasn’t exactly a planned vacation.”
“No one, I’m sure. He’s probably picking up the extra slack himself,” I replied in a rushed voice to get my hurry it up point across.
After a quick stop at Andy's House of Donuts, we arrived in the parking lot with a few minutes to spare. Throughout our drive, we watched as the clouds rolled in from the horizon. The gloomy, light gray clouds moved out to make room for much darker black, flat-out alarming clouds. We’d have to hurry and get the donuts inside. Damn, was Stan the Weatherman right this time. These dark, menacing clouds were not my friend.
Amber approached my car as I leaned back in to grab the stack of donut boxes from the back seat. “Your boyfriend stopped by last night.” Her severity invaded me like a heat wave in the middle of January.
“Well, hello to you too,” I replied to her, mocking her drama.
She ignored me. “You should tell him that he’s not welcome around here.”
“What are you talking about?” I yelled over a crack of thunder.
“That freaky guy,” Amber huffed, annoyed. “Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”
I stood to face her, holding a stack of white bakery boxes. “He's not my friend, nor is he my boyfriend. I have no idea who this guy is.”
“Not the point, bitch.”
“Besides, you heard what Joe said. Apparently, he is welcome. What did he want?” I waited impatiently for her response.
She said nothing, only angrily glaring at me through thick black eyeliner.
“Well, did he particularly ask for me? Or was he there just to have a drink?” I tapped my foot against the ground as I waited very intolerantly.
“What am I? Your boyfriend info app?” She took a drag from her cigarette and refocused her glare off into the distance.
“Well?” I asked, again.
Amber looked back at me. “I don't know, okay,” she huffed. “I can see this is going nowhere.” Amber waved her hand that held a cigarette at me dismissively and stormed off toward the front entrance to the bar. “Just tell him to stay away,” she yelled over her shoulder.
“What was that all about?” Myra asked, looking through a cloud of cigarette smoke left in Amber’s wake.
“Hell, I don’t know. I guess the mystery guy came back in last night. He seems to really make an impression.” I shook my head as we ran into the building just as the rain began to pour from the sinister black clouds that had taken over the sky.
“Okay, folks, here is what we are going to do.” As we walked in, Joe was beginning his list of instructions for the corresponding plans.
We placed the donuts on the table by the coffee and joined the group.
“Get started. We have about four hours.” Joe was hard to hear over the violent thunder outside. He glanced at his wrist watch. “Oh, make that three hours and thirty-five minutes to get this completed, so get started. If you need me, I’ll be in the storage room getting the rest of the decorations out.”
Things were relatively quiet for about ten minutes, which surprised me the girls held off that long.
Angelica began the complaints. She was usually the quiet one. “Seriously, Vanessa, please tell your boyfriend to not come here. He’s truly creepy.”
“Angelica, he is not my boyfriend. I don’t even know his name.” I rolled my eyes at all the glaring faces in the room. “He simply came into the bar, acted as if he knew me, and then left before I even filled his drink request. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Really?” she asked, obviously concerned with my answer. “Maybe he’s a stalker. Should we call the sheriff?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I haven’t seen him anywhere but here.”
Angelica’s eyes showed concern. “Maybe you just don’t see him…” she glanced nervously at the floor. “Just be careful.”
“Well, if you won’t tell him to stay out of this bar, I will. It won’t be enjoyable for him.” Amber’s attempt to sound threatening was weak. Either she was losing her touch, or I just knew her too well.
Amber was rough around the edges. Her life had been less than preferable, and she had a bad attitude to go with it. She had been shoved from state custody to one foster home after another and then back to the state. When she was fifteen, the state put her in a hospital mental because she had an attitude, and they weren’t equipped to deal with her. She had piercings all over her face. She had about ten per earlobe. Tattoos covered her body. Her wardrobe consisted of black leather everything. Of course, she was always equipped with the black leather combat boots, even when she’s forced to dress up. She smeared black eyeliner around her deep green eyes. And we couldn’t forget the stereotypical dyed-black hair, which hung just above her shoulders. The tears she fought back were obvious. She wasn’t nearly as tough as she wanted to portray.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Amber, I really don’t think you’ll come out on the winning end of that stick.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m just sayin’…” I added firmly to emphasize my point.
“Whatever,” she replied angrily.
“She doesn’t know this guy, so get off her back, bitches.” Myra always took up for me. Most people tend to get offended when other people fight their battles for them, but I didn’t mind. She meant well. I did the same for her.
“Whoa, ladies, is there gonna be a cat fight today?” Corey's smile of hopeful anticipation was spread clear across his face. “I love cat fights.”
“Amber, lay off. All
