Loving You Differently

Twelve

Aria Adkins

I'm lost in my thoughts as I walk to work. The usual humid Memphis air is still dry, but a gentle breeze begins to pick up as the sun starts to set, and it feels nice on my skin.

Tonight's my first night back since Austin's suggestion to take off for a few days. The break was nice, but I'm looking forward to getting back to work and settling back into my routine.

And Austin. I'm really looking forward to seeing him.

When I'm a block away from Vice, Savannah's juvenile advice rings through my head.

"Go up to his office and ask him to get dinner with you sometime. It's not that big a deal," she reasons.

"Easy for you to say. If he says no, work would be awkward as hell. I don't know, Sav. Is he worth the trouble that could bring?"

"You tell me," she says.

I'm torn. Never have I let a guy intertwine with my life so seamlessly before. Talking to him feels natural. He's witty, and charming, and caring, and the shit show we put on for him at the hospital didn't seem to deter him once.

Maybe he is worth it, I think to myself.

Only one way to find out.

After mentally hyping myself up and deciding that I'll speak to him before my shift starts, a mix of disappointment and relief floods me when I walk through the side entrance and am immediately swept into the task of getting the main level floor set up for tonight.

Apparently, five minutes before I got here, Lucas was fired.

Honestly, that doesn't surprise me one bit. Dropping cases of bottled beer three times a week doesn't really sit well with the boss. I am surprised, however, that Austin would fire him right before a shift on one of the busiest nights of the week.

"I've never seen him that angry before," Kaia says, stacking bottles of alcohol on the shelf behind the bar.

"Lucas?" I ask, breaking down the cardboard box she hands over.

"No, Austin. He was pissed," she whistles lowly.

"He was pissed the moment he walked through the door," Wyatt mutters from beside me.

I furrow my eyebrows in concern. "That doesn't sound like him. Should we see if he's okay?"

"No," Wyatt says immediately, "Probably best to stay out of the line of fire. I've only seen that guy get angry a handful of times that I've worked for him. Don't risk your job too."

I don't respond, and instead shoot a weary glance towards the winding staircase towards our right. Once again, I'm torn, but I decide against going to talk to him, wanting to give him a while to cool down.

After taking the cardboard boxes to the recycling bin out back, I pull my phone from my back pocket and check the time. The doors open in twenty minutes.

I let out a breath and go to pull the door open, but it swings open as I reach for it. I stumble back just in time, eyes wide as Austin storms out.