Chapter 1

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Zoey's POV

Plates crash onto the ground as I fall to my bottom. Broken glass from plates and glasses surround my body as my manager stomps up to me. Automatically, I look away, already humiliated by everyone gawking at the girl who just slipped and dropped the tray of empty plates.

Poppy, my best friend is already behind him, ready to save my butt once again.

My manager's face is steaming, I can feel his anger radiating off of him. It's not like you'd see a worker slip and cause such a ruckus in every five star restaurant.

"Zoey. Get up and meet me in the back." He says as he casually walks past me and through the double doors leading into the kitchen.

Please don't yell at me.

"Hey, it's alright." Poppy reaches out her hand, which I accept without thinking twice.

"He's going to fire me. I can't lose this job." I whisper, fearing that my voice will crack.

I can't lose this. I need this.

"You don't know that. Listen," her hands gently grasp my arms, "don't worry until you have to. Go talk to him, I'll clean this for you." My head nods as I brace myself.

Don't worry. I have no need to worry.

I dust off whatever dirt may be on my uniform and fix my crooked name tag before walking towards the double doors.

People give me sad smiles, making me feel even more embarrassed at the fact that I know they witnessed it.

As I walk through the doors, heat from our chefs cooking the orders hits me in the face. I dodge through the chefs until making it to the door in the back.

Time of truth.

I suck in and open the door. Doug is looking into the employee fridge where we store our food we can munch on when we get a break.

"I'm so sorry, Doug. I slipped over my own two feet and I have no excuse." I say before he notices I'm in the room.

His eyes shift to my red face as a sigh falls from his mouth. The fridge closes and he pulls out one of the plastic grey chairs from the table, his hand signals me to sit as he walks around to the other side.

Can't I just stand?

Betraying my thoughts, I sit in the chair across from him, rubbing the skin on my arm, and wait for the ridicule.

"You can't keep embarrassing us like this. The first time, you dropped your name tag into the food on a customers plate, the second time," he puts up two fingers, "you and Poppy were caught making fun of very respected customers, and this time, you fall and break table wear."

Sometimes rich people are too easy to make fun of, at least they can buy their happiness.

"I know, I- it won't happen again. I've been clumsy and-"

"One more chance, Zoey. One more fail, and you're fired." Doug cuts me off.

I nod, hoping this situation won't escalate.

He stares at me for a minute, scanning over my body.

"Go fix your hair and get back to work then." He wafts me away.

Thank God, I'm not getting fired.

I leave the room as quickly as I can while still looking professional and once again, dodging the chefs on my way to the ladies room.

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