Crash II

0.09

CHAPTER NINE
LUKE FROM THE TATTOO SHOP

—

"Are you feeling better, Nic?" the sudden voice that belong to Cece scared the living soul out of me. Quickly spinning around, I stared at her wide-eyed. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a sympathetic smile crossed her facial features.

"Oh, don't worry," I chuckled, turning back to wiping the counter down. "I was just deep in though and guess I didn't hear you come in," I flashed her a smile. "And yeah I'm feeling so much better today. I guess I caught some stomach bug or something," I lied, nonchalantly shrugging to add to the effect. "Used some of my moms methods and now I'm feeling better."

"That's good," she spoke from across the room, lowering the chairs down from the table tops. "I got worried there for a second. You just paled so much that evening. And you're one of my best workers, wouldn't want to lose such a valuable person."

Slightly furrowing my brows, I was taken aback a little because all this time I was under the impression that Brian was the star worker here. But I guess I was wrong?

We continued to do our separate jobs as Cece got the main part of the bar ready for opening, while I got ready the area behind the bar; making sure the glasses were clean and we had ice, and that no bottle was running low nor was the last one from the bunch. But just for my luck, the Bourbon bottle was almost done for and it just so happens to be the last one up here too. Sighing at Brian's slight incompetence, I straightened my posture as I stood back up from the squatting pose I was in.

"Hey, Cece, I'll go grab some Bourbon bottles from the basement," I called out, feeling like letting her know about my whereabouts.

"I'll come with," in matter of seconds she was behind the bar and leading the way towards the basement door. "Actually I want to talk to you about something, Nicole."

"Talk about what? You're not firing my, are you? I really can't afford to lose this job. If you want me, I'll work double time–"

The sound of Cece laughing made me cut my rambling short. With furrowed brows I watched as she continued to laugh, before turning around to face me when she had reached the floor of the basement. "Oh god, nothing like that," she waved her hand in the air. "It's actually about a promotion."

"A promotion?"

"Well," she started, sitting down on a cardboard box, "I've been in search and talk with investors. I've been wanting to expend this place for a while now and I finally found someone who's willing to back me up. Financially that is. And so with this expansion, I'll be needing someone to help me hold down the business in back."

"And I fit into that how?" I questioned, my hip pressed against the metal poll of the banister.

"I was hoping — I am hoping, that you'll accept this promotion. I want you to be the manager. You can still work out front, but your main job would be back here. You'd get an office and everything."

Cracking a small smile, I couldn't wrap my mind around what Cece was asking me, "What about Brian? He's worked here way longer than me."

"Yes, and he's way less responsible about things. He once showed up to work drunk and then proceeded to tell me that he's totally sober, and that he haven't had a drop of alcohol. I don't feel secure enough to trust someone like that with important documents and most importantly, money."

Probably sensing my confusion for the whole thing, Cece cracked a smile and clapped her palms together as she stood back up on her feet, "Think about it, yeah Nic? Though I do need an answer by the end of the week."