Lime Ricky_Romantic Suspense by Jill Winters

Author:Jill Winters [Winters, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Rushing from work, Gretchen nearly slid on sleet three times, but eventually made it unscathed to June Bug's on Tenth Street. A red upholstered restaurant with a muted glow and a wooden bar that wrapped around half the room, June Bug's was a cozy, warm reprieve from the cold. It was about halfway between TCN and Medieval Faire, which was why Dana had picked it.

"What's up?" Gretchen said on a breath as she approached the bar. "Sorry I'm late!"

"No problem. I got fired today," Dana said bluntly, then pulled out the stool beside her.

"What?"

"Fired," Dana repeated. "Canned, axed, dusted, call me soup-line girl."

"Okay. First of all, forget the soup lines," Gretchen said, putting her hand on her cousin's shoulder. "I'll make you soup—Clam chowder, if you want."

"Really?" Dana said, perking up slightly. "And turkey chili?"

"Sure," Gretchen agreed.

"With your macadamia nut blondies for dessert?" Dana pressed. "And lobster thermidore, if I get the craving... ?"

"Don't get greedy," Gretchen said with a twist of her mouth. "Like you've ever even had lobster thermidore, by the way. Now tell me what happened."

Shrugging, Dana straightened and said, "It's like this: some BS story about how I'm late too much and how I cut out too early, and I'm supposedly not"—mockingly, she made quotation marks with her fingers—"'responsible.' Please! Don't they understand that of course I'd be more responsible if I didn't need to take into account auditions and casting calls and trying to have a real life?" She heaved a sigh. "The final straw was when I came late today."

With a look of mild disgust, Dana picked up her drink and took a big gulp. She'd never specifically said that she'd gotten passed up for that soap opera role, but Gretchen supposed it had been implied in the silences.

Once Dana set her glass down on the bar with a thud, she seemed to have found a new resolve. "Well, what can you do? These things happen," she declared. "It was just a job. It's not like this was my lifelong dream or something. It's not like when I was little I pictured myself serving 'wild boar'—also known as pork chops, by the way—to a bunch of tourists still hung up on the Middle Ages. And I'm sorry," she added, pressing a hand to her chest dramatically, "that I was unable to make the patrons feel 'transported in time.'" She was clearly quoting her boss, Al. "What a failure I am as a human being. Really, I am so sorry. I failed as a 'serving wench.' I am just so. Fucking. Sorry."

"You definitely sound sorry," Gretchen said agreeably and finally Dana smiled. Then she covered her face with her hands and even started to laugh a little. Supportively, Gretchen put her arm around her cousin's shoulder. "Like you said, Dana, it was just a job, and not one you even liked. We'll just have to find you a new job—a better one. Okay? I'll help you."

"How?" Dana mumbled, before her eyes lit up suddenly.

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