Jersey (Lesbian Story)(GirlxGirl)

$9

Once that tall bitch left, everyone got back to work. Finley went behind the receptionist desk without saying a word to me. She looked a bit annoyed, probably because I made her girlfriend leave; but honestly I didn't give a fuck. She had a job to do and that job wasn't to make up with her abusive girlfriend. If she wanted to get back with Nicky -which I don't know why she would- she would have to do that on her own fucking time.

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Not much action went on. Everyone was pretty quiet and focused more on their work if anything. Finley wouldn't even look at me when I was in her presence, which really pissed me the fuck off. I didn't see what I did wrong. All I did was kick out a distraction from my shop so my artists could get back to work and so could my receptionists. If anything I made a pretty awesome, mature decision. It was like once in a blue moon that I actually handled something maturely and accurately.

As soon as the shop closed, everyone began leaving. It was just me, Gavin, and a quiet Finley. I scoped out the shop to make sure everything was straight. It was a habit of mine. I liked my shop to be neat, and in the best condition it could be. It was hard sometimes because all of my employees were clumsy assholes. Every week something ends up broken, and it's up to me to find a way to replace or fix the shit. "Are you guys ready," I asked Gavin and Finley as I walked up to the front of the shop. Both of them were sitting on the couch, staring down into their phones.

Gavin jumped up to his feet. "I'm always ready to get out of this place, mate," he said before patting my back. "I could really use a smoke." Finley groaned at the mention of smoking. If she was going to stay with Gavin and I, smoking was just something that she'd have to learn to deal with. When we got into the car, Gavin wasted no time to light up the spliff. I could hear Finley in the background mumbling and bitching about how we smoke too much. She was really starting to irk my fucking nerves. I turned up the volume of my stereo system and the bass began rattling throughout the car, drowning out Finley's bitching.

"The music is too loud," I managed to hear her scream over the music. Could she stop complaining for one fucking second? I grabbed the volume tuner and turned it all the way down. "That's much better," she replied.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," I yelled. "You need to chill the fuck out. You've been complaining and bitching all day. And it's really starting to tick me the fuck off!" Gavin sunk in his seat when I started yelling.

"What's wrong with me?! What's wrong with you?! I was talking to my girlfriend and you just kicked her out of your shop," Finley finally unleashed.

"So, you haven't been talking to me all fucking day because I asked your girlfriend to leave?! I'm your fucking boss. I pay you to do your fucking job, not to deal with your personal, mental fucking issues." My hands were wrapped around the steering wheel tightly as I got angrier and angrier. Who the fuck does she think she is?

"Mental issues?! If anyone has mental issues, it's you!"

"Really? Because last time I checked, I wasn't in love with someone who beats my ass on the fucking daily! You're fucking insane to stay with that bitch!" I heard Finley sigh in exasperation, but she didn't say anything else. She finally shut the hell up.

The elevator ride to my penthouse was awkward as hell. It reminded of the first elevator ride I had with Finley. We had just got finished arguing before the ride. Now, here we were again. Gavin was tapping his foot, and whistling along to the elevator music, while Finley was constantly wiping her face. She was obviously crying, but who cares. I wouldn't have said what I said, if she wasn't being such a bitch. I meant what I said. She was fucking mental, and she honestly needed help. Even the dullest color in the crayon box understands that if someone is willing to hurt you, they obviously don't love you or give a fuck about you.