Hate, actually ✔

Chapter 2

Chapter Playlist: Waves by
Dean Lewis

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I wipe the beads of sweat off of my forehead as I lift a chair from it's heightened position from a table. Bo's Bistro is about to open and I arrived pretty early.

It's cold outside but I'm sweating buckets. I'm running a fever but I really don't want to miss work, despite it being my day off.

Mom was moved into a hospice earlier this morning when things got pretty bad. I decided I need to work extra shifts to earn more money so her passing will be as peaceful as possible.

I know that what I earn can barely cover the funeral costs of a goldfish - much less the type of funeral I want for my mother, but I have to do something to bide my time. I'd go crazy if I sat at home doing nothing.

I genuinely dread the thought of asking Lauren and her family for more money, but the possibility of doing so is becoming more and more my reality by the day.

I don't know much of my family - and the ones I do know either work for the mafia with my psychopath father or they live miles away in Trinidad with no intentions of ever speaking to my mother because she went off and married a drug lord (my psychopath father).

After all I've been through, my future better be great - else I'm just be a cursed individual.

Work drags on and every so often I think about my mother. She seems very accepting of everything that is happening to her but I can't help but wonder if she's scared.

"Of course she's scared," I think out loud.

You only die once. It's not like you can die, come back, be told you're dying again and think 'oh this has happened before and it's not all that bad - I've got this.'

Nope. She's unaware of what is to come and fear of the unknown can be pretty terrifying - even for the strongest people.

"I'll have some popcorn shrimp with a side of fries and bottled water, please." A friendly man who looks like he's in his mid fifties smiles politely at me.

I have to do a double take. It's Pablo from yesterday. I wonder if he has a single clue that I was spying on him and Mr Romano just the day before.

"Coming right up." I politely smile back.

His order is ready in ten minutes flat (which is probably a personal record for the busy restaurant) and I bring it to his table.

"Anything else?" I ask.

He is mid head shake when something seems to have clicked in his mind.

Oh boy, what if he was somehow aware of my presence outside the conference room the entire time yesterday at Romano & Co? What if he wants to ask me about that?

"Actually, do you mind if I ask you a couple of semi-personal questions? It's for a social experiment and you might get a business proposal out it," he says, eyeing me carefully, the polite smile still intact.

I'm a little puzzled but I oblige. "Sure, I guess."

"Okay; first things first. What is your name?"

"I'm Sadie. Sadie Torres."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Torres; you can call me Pablo. Now, it's important to be honest when you answer these," he starts. "Two days in a cabin by the lake with your significant other or two days in a five star hotel?"

I consider this for a second or two.

"Can I choose both?" I inquire.

He ponders over the question. "I suppose you can so long as you don't keep picking both for every option."