The assistant manager filling in for Austin while he's out of town is an asshole.

The natural ease in which Austin manages Vice on its busiest nights noticeably left the building as soon as he did. Filling in instead is good ol' Scott, a fourty-something shameless misogynist with a receding hairline and a beer gut.

"Men, upstairs," Scott chirps, tapping his pen against the clipboard in his hand. "Ladies, you're down here for the night."

The six of us working tonight, an even three men and three women, exchange confused glances. The command he dished out stumps us all, because Austin set and sent out the schedule the day before he left for New Orleans, and he had checked with all of us that our sections for the nights he would be gone were fine with everyone.

Scott slips the pen behind his ear and glances up at us, his eyebrow arched in question. "We open in thirty minutes, why are we still standing here?"

I steal another glance at my coworkers, and realize that none of them are going to speak up about the changes that none of us consented to.

So, I take one for the team and clear my throat. Scott's attention swings to me, and I mentally roll my eyes when his treacherous eyes rake my frame, unashamed as he blatantly stares at my chest and exposed cleavage.

"That isn't the schedule Austin sent out for tonight," I calmly state.

Scott snorts. "Well Austin isn't here tonight, is he?"

My eyebrows fly up to my hairline, as do my coworkers'.

"No, but he's our boss." I say tersely.

Scott takes a step forward, leering at me. "Sweetheart, if you'd rather run the show, then be my guest. You wanna give it a shot or do you wanna grab a tray and sling out some drinks like you're supposed to?"

Kaia sucks in a sharp breath beside me. I grit my teeth in frustration, mulling over my thoughts. I raise my chin and cast a glance at the camera in the corner, staring directly at us as Scott The Sleazeball disregards Austin's orders and disrespects not only his employee, but his girlfriend.

"No, sir." I say.

Scott smirks, taking a step backwards. My eye twitches as one of the lights overhead casts a shiny glow on his balding scalp.

He claps the clipboard down on the bar and snaps, "Today, people!"

As soon as my back turns, I release a deep breath and roll my shoulders.

"What a dick," Kaia mutters, assisting me as I remove bar stools from tabletops.

"What dick?" I murmur back. She coughs to hide her snort.

"Less laughing, more working," Scott calls across the room.

"Jesus Christ," Kaia whispers, then sighs. "I'm so pissed about him switching our sections. I really needed those tips tonight."

I shoot her a sympathetic smile. I know exactly what she means.

Everyone knows the upper level of Vice brings in the most money, and we all typically swap out our shifts upstairs weekly so that everyone gets the chance to make a little extra. It was Kaia and I's night to work upstairs, so it sucks that we aren't getting to.

I sigh and straighten my back. "Alright. Let's do this thing."

——

I swipe the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat that coats it. I step behind the bar and use the tray in my hand to fan my face, glancing over at one of the other servers, Alyssa.

"Did Scott bring down another case of Absolut? The shelf is still empty," I ask.

She crouches down to check and shoots up with an eye roll. "Nope, and I don't know why we expected him to since he made Kaia carry that whiskey from the back room earlier."

"Shit," I mutter, blowing out a breath.

I peer out at the floor, hesitating for a moment.

"Keep an eye on my section real quick?" I ask.

Alyssa waves me off. "Yeah, of course. Should be in the back, near the Smirnoff, I think."

I nod, mumble my thanks, and head up the winding staircase.

Making my way down the hall, I glance wistfully at Austin's closed office door, wishing he was inside. My fingers itch to grab my phone and call him, see how he's doing since I haven't talked to him all day.

I sidestep Logan, one of the guys working upstairs, as he carries a case of beer on his shoulder. We both shake our heads in annoyance as he passes.

The prick in charge for the night has left us all out to dry, and is instead sitting on his ass somewhere around here doing God knows what.

I push inside the storage room where we keep the alcohol and make my way through the shelving units. I crouch down in front of where we keep the vodka, squinting as I try to make out the words written on the sides of the boxes amidst the dim lighting.

The sound of the door suddenly slamming closed makes me jump, and to make myself known I call out to whoever is there, "Hey, I'm just grabbing another case."

"Need some help?"

Unease washes over me as Scott's snide remark echoes across the room. I tense up when his footsteps smack across the concrete floor, diminishing the space between us.

I hastily pop up from my crouched position and straighten my back, raising a brow in faux nonchalance and sending him my best, "Take one more step and your balls will be physically kicked up into your stomach," look.

"I got it, thanks," I state sarcastically.

Not wanting to take my eyes off of the creepy fuck leering at me like he's never seen a woman before, I push the box I was looking for out from the corner with my foot, expertly sliding it across the floor in front of me and creating a barrier between us.

"That anyway to treat your superior?" He mocks.

I roll my eyes in annoyance, fed up with his macho man bullshit. "Is caging me against the wall in the storage room any way to treat an employee?"

Scott shrugs. "You let Austin do it, don't you?"

My entire body freezes. Fury slinks down my spine and my hands itch to lay him out.

"That's none of your business. Now, excuse me." I state pushing the box forward with my knock-off Doc Marten.

"Not so fast," He interjects, placing his foot on top of it. "I'm just trying to have a conversation."

"And I'm trying to do my job. Now move."

"Gonna sic the boyfriend on me if I don't?" He snorts.

"My boyfriend doesn't need to be present in order for me to knock you on your ass. Move."

He steps to the side, mirth dancing in his eyes. I warily push the box across the floor with my boot and hastily side step him so that now, he's the one in the corner. I turn my back to him, ready to get the hell out of here, when his next words stop me in my tracks.

"Your dad teach you how to knock around men twice your size, or did your mom?"

I spin around, my heart dropping to my stomach.

Scott shrugs, a smirk on his thin lips.

"Mark tells the best stories when he's drunk. We shared a few 'nagging wife and bratty kids' stories a few times a week, back when he favored booze over meth. Your dad's a real funny guy, you know that?" He pauses. "Nah, you probably don't, huh?"

"He tell you he's in town?" He continues, contempt crossing his face. "Says he's in town looking at some property. He planning on moving back?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are-"

I'm cut off when the door to the storage room bangs open and one of the guys steps inside, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.

"Hey, Aria. Anymore cases of Jameson in the back?"

I clear my throat and bend down, hefting the cardboard box in my arms. "Uh, yeah, should be. 'Scuse me."

I nearly trip as I make my way down the stairs, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end and my senses on high alert.

I'm officially creeped the fuck out.

——

Shaken up from the encounter with Scott, I gratefully hitch a ride with Kiera, so as to avoid another interaction with a stranger during a long cab ride. I'm sure I look like my ass is on fire as I damn near run up my front porch, my entire body on high alert.

My hands shake as I lock the deadbolt and slide the chain across the door jamb.

I jump out of my skin when a voice casually asks, "How was work?"

My heart rate slows when I make eye contact with Sav, who is lounging under a blanket on the couch and happily eating red licorice.

Fucking weird. Terrifying. Foreshadow-y? I think to myself.

"Busy," I say instead. "Which movie are you on now?"

"Just started Deathly Hallows Part I. Wanna watch? I have popcorn."

I slightly relax, tension slowly leaving my body.

I'm fine. Savannah's fine. Everything's okay.

"Never thought I'd say this, but yes please. Scoot over." I instruct, throwing my purse on the empty recliner and kicking off my boots.

Savannah throws her leg out, stopping me from walking to the other side of the couch. "You're entering the Harry Potter bubble. That means no more slander or I throw the popcorn in the trash."

I push her leg down and collapse onto the couch, stealing some of her blanket. "That shit was way too expensive, so you most certainly will not. Now hit play."

Thirty minutes into the movie, my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I lift my butt from the couch, accidentally tipping the bowl of popcorn over in the process.

"Dude!" Sav groans.

"Dude," I mock in a high pitched voice, dodging a smack from Savannah. I swipe my thumb across the screen and answer Austin's call.

Sav pipes up before I can even open my mouth. "Is that Austin? Tell him to bring me back some mardi gras beads. Also, tell him to hurry up and get home."

"Can I say hello first?" I ask.

Austin beats me to it, his deep laugh whispering into the phone. "Hey. Am I interrupting something?"

I untangle myself from the blanket and step over Savannah's feet that are stretched out and propped on the coffee table.

"Just my sister, proving yet again that she likes you more than me," I quietly tease.

I quietly shut my bedroom door and flop onto my bed, closing my eyes as Austin snorts out a laugh.

I can practically hear his smirk through the phone as he asks, "Can you blame her?"

"Anyway..." I trail off dramatically, a smile tugging at my lips as he snickers. "How did today go?"

My belly does a flop and my body melts into the mattress when Austin releases a relieved sigh.

His voice is hoarse, emotional, when he says, "It went... pretty fucking great. I was nervous it was gonna be awkward, or sad, but it wasn't. Felt like the three of us had been a unit our entire lives. Is that weird?"

"No," I say softly. "It isn't. I think that's what it's supposed to feel like, ya know? When you're comfortable with someone."

"Yeah?" He rasps. "You familiar with that feeling?"

I smile. "Can't say I am," I tease. Then I sigh. "I miss you."

"Finally she admits it," He says quietly. I roll my eyes in jest. "I miss you too, baby. You worked tonight, right? Did you survive without me?" He jokes.

I tense up. "It was fine. I'm more interested in you and New Orleans."

I feel Austin's hesitation, and I cross my fingers, hoping he'll let it go. I can't lie to him again, not when I've already withheld the other catastrophic bombshells that have exploded in my face since he's been gone.

"The old man's basically pushing me out the door. Showed him a picture of you and he asked, and I quote, "What the hell are you doing staring at my ugly mug when you've gotta prettier one waiting on you up in Memphis?"

A shocked, relieved laugh bursts from my lips. "What picture?!" I demand.

"Don't worry about it," Austin snickers. "I had to have something to tide me over since we can't FaceTime."

"Are you phone shaming me?" I deadpan. "I'll have you know I've had this bad boy for five years now. He works just fine."

"He's keeping me from seeing your pretty mug right now, so yeah, I'm phone shaming you."

"Wow, you're already turning cajun on me," I muse. "Going back to your roots, I see."

"Don't get used to it," He laughs. "I'm trying my hardest not to take my old man's advice and get home to you."

I sober up, my voice soft as I say, "Don't let me keep you from your family."

"You're my family too, Aria. You and Savannah both."

My eyes flutter closed. "You know, I'm starting to believe you when you sweet talk me like that. You're good with words."

"You know they're true," He says, his voice deep.

"I know," I whisper, emotion clogging my throat.

Guilt, sadness, and longing go to war in my brain, and Austin picks up on my silence.

Quietly, he asks, "You sure you're okay, pretty girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

And just like that, another lie slips free.

——

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