The Real Deal Read online

  “Please, Gerald, don’t do this.” Only a whisper, but still better than a croak.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s done.”

  "But can't I have one chance? Just one chance to make a mistake? I wouldn't be the first one here to make one. Not even close." She thought back to a time close to a year ago when she had run into Gerald at a bar. He had been blitzed and made an ass out of himself by coming onto her. He had apologized the next day, and she had agreed that it was something that didn't need to go any further than between the two of them. He must have been thinking about the incident too because now his face turned a shade of red so deep it was practically purple. She would have been concerned for his health if she hadn't been so completely furious with him. The way things were going, though, it was hard to care, even if he was on the verge of having a heart attack. She should have taken that incident to someone higher up, the GM or something. She should have known that someday it would come to this.

  "I don't know where you think you are, Miss Ingrid, but I'm not running a charity here. This is a business, a job, and you aren't doing yours. I suggest you collect your things, if you have any, that is, and be on your way. You'll get your last check in the mail if it has anything on it."

  And that was it. End of discussion, case closed. He didn't so much as look at her while he stormed off in the other direction, this man who'd seen no real problem in attempting to feel her up in a bar just because he was drunk and she was there. That wasn't a fireable offence, apparently. Of course not. He was one of the bosses, which meant he could do whatever he wanted. At least to her, and right now that was what counted.

  "Well, will you look at that, hotshot. Guess you aren't so perfect after all." Kim spat the words out with obvious enjoyment. She and Melanie were huddled in the corner of one of the servers’ stations, whispering and tittering away like they were watching a compelling episode of reality tv. When Betty noticed that, her vision went momentarily white like the whole world had been given a good coat of whitewashing some time during the last several seconds. She marched up to the two of them and hardly noticed the way Melanie squared off, clearly ready for a fight. Melanie was a giant, almost six feet tall compared to Betty's decidedly average five foot six, but Betty didn't care about that. She didn't care about much of anything right now.

  “You’ve been waiting for something like this, haven’t you?”

  "As a matter of fact, sweetheart, I have," Melanie spoke in a sugary sweet voice, almost like she was crooning to a lover instead of rubbing salt into a wound.

  “It’s not like anybody’s going to miss you around here,” Kim chimed in happily. “You don’t have any friends, remember?”

  “Because nobody likes a kiss-ass,” Melanie added, hands on hips.

  "You know you guys are losers, right? I mean, you do know that." Betty kept her voice light and pleasant, but she noticed with some satisfaction that Kim took a little step back. There was something in Betty that felt like steel and Kim seemed to be glimpsing it for the first time. Melanie, on the other hand, appeared totally unphased.

  "Who gives a shit what you think? You're no better than the rest of us. Worse, because there's nobody who would even notice if you like, died in your sleep or something. You'd just lay there rotting for weeks, and nobody would give a damn."

  "You two aren't ever getting out of here. Nothing is going to get better if you keep doing things the way you're doing them. I'm going to graduate and this place will be nothing more than a bad memory. Maybe one day I'll stop in, and one of you two can serve me a cup of coffee."

  That was when Melanie hauled off and hit her, slapping her across the face so hard that her head rocked back on her neck. Kim gasped and made herself scarce, hurrying into the kitchen in case there were more firings on the book for the day. Betty just looked at her, not crying, not moving. She just looked at her, and after a moment's hesitation Melanie started off along the same path Kim had taken.

  "You're kind of nuts, you know that?" she called over her shoulder, her shitty version of a farewell. Then it was only Betty in the serving station, and everything felt heavy. Her limbs felt too heavy to lift, her head like it was full of metal. She had spent several years working at The Bellevue, and she had always been good at her job. She often reminded herself that it was a stupid job, just a means to an end, but that wasn't the way she operated. She was the kind of woman who worked hard no matter the task at hand and she had given everything she had to her job as a waitress. She had even allowed herself to believe that what she did mattered a little, that she was helping to brighten up people's days and making her managers' lives easier by always working to meet the highest standard. It was a nasty, rude awakening to realize that she had been dead wrong. It hadn't mattered at all. None of it had. She was just as disposable as the rest of them and her constant effort to do her best work made not a bit of difference.

  Betty took off her apron, considered keeping it just to be spiteful, and then tossed it in the corner. It wasn't a reminder she wanted around her pathetically small apartment, anyway. Besides, she needed to get out of there as quickly as she could. She could feel the tears starting to come now, and she would be damned if she gave any of The Bellevue's remaining employees the satisfaction of seeing her cry. It wasn't until she was almost to the front door that she remembered that Zach was there. She felt a strong hand grip her upper arm just as she reached for the handle and she whirled around, prepared to hit back this time if it was Melanie coming back for round two.

  “What the hell?” Zach asked in a bewildered voice. His immaculate suit and tie were so out of place in The Bellevue that she wanted to laugh. “What just happened?”

  "Nothing much. Nothing that you need to worry about." Her voice sounded hard and spiteful. She saw the wounded look in his eyes and wished she could just disappear. It would be so much better that way, so much easier because it turned out she actually liked this guy. How stupid could she have been to let that happen?

  “I can see that you’re upset, Betty. Tell me what happened?”

  “I got fired, okay? For breaking the rules. Looks like you won’t have a reason to come back to The Bellevue aside from the ice cream. You can go back to all of the fancy restaurants people like you get to eat in.”

  “Shit. Shit, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” He looked genuinely upset, which softened Betty despite her need to be angry at somebody.

  “It’s not, though. I’m not the most popular person here. Some of the other girls on the staff have been looking for a way to get rid of me for a long time. And the manager who fired me might have been too, although I didn’t realize it until just now. I turned him down at a bar once. I guess that was a mistake.”

  “That’s a bunch of bullshit, is what it is. That’s something you could easily sue this place for.”

  "Yeah? With what money?" she asked the question gently, not really meaning to hurt him at this point but only pointing out a truth people with his kind of money never had to consider. "Lawsuits are expensive, Zach, and people don't tend to listen to the stories of girls in my position."

  “People will listen to you. I’ll help. I’ll make them listen.”

  “No. Thank you, but no. I don’t want that. I just want to pretend none of this ever happened.” When she spoke the words out loud, she realized how true they were. She wanted to forget everything that had happened on this day, every little part. Zach, who must have seen in her face where her line of thinking was going, winced and then shook his head like he was trying to clear an unappealing thought from his brain.

  “Fuck these people then. It doesn’t look to me like there’s any love lost.”

  “I worked hard here. That matters. It matters to me what that amounts to.”

  "You’re right, it does matter, or it should. All the more reason to leave these assholes behind. Let me take you out right now. I know it's not standard for a first date to be so last notice, but this isn't your standard kind of day. Let me take y
ou out, and I promise you that by the end of this evening, you won't care about what happened here at all."

  “That’s very sweet, Zach.”

  “Excellent, let’s go. I can have Matty get the car and back here at the front door in five minutes flat.”

  “You didn’t let me finish. That’s very sweet, but I’m going to have to pass.”

  “Okay, that’s alright. I get you might not be in the mood. Tomorrow, then. Gives us both a little more time for preparation.”

  “No, I don’t think you’re taking my meaning.”

  “Tell me what I’m missing.”

  “I mean I’m going to pass on all of it.”

  "Can you tell me why? What changed, aside from the firing?" His face was set now, almost hard. Betty was surprised by how much it hurt her to see that, and she almost took it all back, said she would go with him now, tomorrow, or any other time he wanted to go out. Almost, but not quite. She thought about the look on Melanie's face when she'd said the horrible things she'd said, and she knew that she was right.

  “I know I said I would go out with you. I meant it when I said it. I’m not a liar.”

  “I never said you were. I don’t think it of you.”

  “Good, because I'm not. I just never should have said yes in the first place.”

  “Then why did you?”

  "I got caught up. I got caught up in the moment, and I thought it could work. I thought maybe...maybe there could be a point to it like things were going to be different for me moving forward."

  “But they can be, Betty,” he answered with renewed intensity. “I don’t know where this defeatism is coming from. I’m not asking you to sign over your soul. I’m just asking for a date. One date, so we can get to know each other a little better. That’s it.”

  “You don’t get it,” she said sorrowfully, shaking her head. “You can’t, not being who you are. I almost let myself believe it, you know? I almost let myself believe that you could really be into me, that this could be real. But you aren’t, and it can’t. There isn’t a first date for people like you and me. That’s not the way the world works. That’s not the way my world works.”

  "What can I do? Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

  “You can leave me alone. That’s all I really want now, Zach. I want you to leave me alone.”

  She was out the door and rushing down the sidewalk before he ever had a chance to give her an offer. Part of her was desperate to know what he would have said but another part of her, a bigger part, knew it didn’t matter. There was nothing he could say that would make things any different. Nothing at all.

  Chapter Four

  Zach Jameson

  ZACH STOOD BY THE DINER's front door, stunned. He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, but he thought he could still hear the echo of the bell jangling when Betty stormed out. After she'd shot him down and bailed. Had he ever been shot down by a woman before? He didn't think so. Not even when he was still in high school, and most guys were getting turned down all over the place. He had what his mother had liked to call a golden tongue and his brother, a whole lot less affectionate of the subject, had told him was dumb luck. Personally, he didn't know which one it was, and he didn't care. He had never cared before, that was. At the moment he found that he cared a whole hell of a lot. He had basically zero experience being rejected, by chicks or by anyone else for that matter, and he didn't know how he was supposed to take it. He guessed it wasn't a problem many of the population wouldn't sympathize with him on, but there you go.

  “Hey, boss, what the hell is going on here? Someone glue you to the floor or something?” Matty asked as he ambled up by Zach’s side.

  “No. No, they didn’t.”

  "Then what gives? All I'm saying is that I ordered you a beer and a Ruben and if they get to that counter before you do, I'm not responsible for what I'll do."

  "That's fine. You can have them. It turns out I'm not hungry, after all." He could feel Matty watching him, but he didn't return the eye contact. He didn't feel like talking. Not even close.

  “Where’d that cute little waitress go, anyhow? Betty? I had to order from one of the other chicks. What’s that about?”

  “She got fired, that’s what it’s about. She’s gone.”

  “No shit? That blows. Doesn’t make any sense, either. She’s the best waitress I ever had, here or anyplace else. Maybe not for you, going to the swanky places you go, but–”

  “No, Matty, I couldn’t agree more. She was the best I ever had, too.”

  “So then what the hell happened?”

  “I got her into trouble being where I shouldn’t have been. Come on.”

  Matty looked like he would have liked to ask a half dozen more questions, but he knew better than to argue when Zach was in the kind of mood he was in. That was the employee part of him operating, and he was damn good at his job. He was the kind of guy that rolled with a plan whether he knew what the end game was or not, which was a good thing. Zach had a plan now, and he needed Matty to keep his mouth shut and his opinions to himself for it to work. He eased himself back down on his stool and smiled brilliantly when a waitress appeared immediately before him. She looked like the cat who'd caught the canary and Zach had to force himself to continue looking glad to see her. He wasn't, not glad at all, but he was good at getting what he wanted even when he had to bullshit to get there.

  “Thank Christ,” he said in a moan, “does this mean you’re going to be our server now?”

  "Yes! Yes, that's exactly what it means. My name is Melanie, and I just have to tell you, I am beyond thrilled to be your server today. Just beyond!"

  “Well, I’m very glad to hear it, Melanie. You have no idea how glad. I’m hoping you have a better attitude than your predecessor.”

  “My what now?” she asked with her head cocked to one side.

  “Sorry. The chick that came before you. Betty, I think her name was.”

  “God, I hope you think I’m better than her. But if you don’t mind me asking, what was your trouble with her?”

  “She just struck me as somebody who would rather be doing something else. Not exactly a turn on when you’re expecting service from somebody. Did she have somewhere else she was supposed to be or something?”

  “Ugh, probably school. She’s like, putting herself through college or some junk like that. Seems like a waste of time if you ask me.”

  “Sounds like. And what classes was she taking? Do you know? Just curious what kind of things waitresses think they’re going to be getting up to.”

  "I don't have a clue," Melanie answered, sounding a little impatient now. Zach needed to be careful. This one was clearly a bitch, but she didn't seem to be stupid. If she got the idea that what he was really doing was pumping her for information so that he could go find Betty, she would clam right up. If he couldn't get somebody at The Bellevue to tell him where he could find her, he might never see her again. That shouldn't have mattered, seeing as he hardly knew her, but for some reason it did.

  “Of course you don’t. Stupid question.”

  “Why do you say that?” Melanie’s implied question was whether or not he thought she was too dumb to know the answers to his questions. He needed to tread carefully with this one, for sure. She was the kind of snake that bit.

  “She just doesn’t seem like your kind of person. That’s all I mean. You strike me like a girl who likes to have more of a good time than her. Please, though, correct me if I’m wrong. By all means. I like a woman who can challenge me.”

  Once he’d said that, all of the suspicion disappeared from Melanie's eyes. She giggled, a sound that struck Zach as somehow obscene, and started twirling bottle black hair around one extremely long nail. She leaned forward on the countertop with her elbows propped on its surface and Zach was treated to a free show of exactly what she was working with.

  “Is that so?” she asked, biting her lip suggestively.

  “It is. I like to cut straight to the chase.
Say what I want up front.”

  “I think the two of us are going to get along just fine.”

  Zach heard the sound of the bell over the door chiming again, but he didn't think much of it. It was one of those sounds that was easily shoved into the background where it belonged. This time, though, listening would have been a good idea. It would have saved him a whole hell of a lot of trouble, that was for sure. He was getting ready to figure out how to steer the conversation back in the direction that he wanted it without tipping Melanie off when he got the feeling that there was somebody watching him. A lot of people ignored feelings like that, but Zach trusted his instincts. He turned to look over his shoulder and felt instantly sick.

  “Nice. That’s really nice. Guess it’s a good thing I put my foot down, huh?” Betty was standing in the doorway, her previously forgotten coat dangling from one limp hand. It was the coat she had come back for, not him, and she must have seen enough to give her a seriously shitty impression of what kind of man he was. He stood up quickly enough to knock his stool over and hardly noticed when Matty caught it. He took a step towards Betty, who almost simultaneously took a step back towards the door.

  “Hang on, Betty. It’s not–”

  “What I think? Is that what you were going to say?”

  “Um, yes, actually. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

  “Of course it is. That’s what guys always say, right? What I’ve always wondered is whether or not there are people who believe that crap.”

  For the second time that afternoon, she turned and bolted out of The Bellevue. The difference was that this time, Zach followed her. Before he could lay a hand on her, she whirled on her heel and looked into his face. The way her eyes were blazing, it was his turn to take a step back. He'd pissed off plenty of women in his life, mostly for not meeting expectations they'd come up with for where a relationship was going, and he knew what it looked like. Betty was pissed. She was whatever you called it when a woman was five steps past pissed.