My New Stepbrother

Preview: BELLE OF THE BALL

(When Life Gives you Lemons- Chapter 1)

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"We got another turkey on rye!" I yelled, my throat already hurting from the constant overuse, thanks to the yelling I had to do all day.

Working in the diner had proven to be—very difficult. But it was humbling too. As a child, I was always told, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

And when life takes away your lemons...make what you can.

That's what happened to me, three years ago. My life was great then; I was a sophomore in college, with an amazing boyfriend—and a great group of friends.

Everything was absolutely perfect.

Then after college, my "boyfriend," and I tried the whole adulting thing...like getting an apartment together, cooking each other dinner, and looking at buying houses together—hell at one point I was convinced marriage was on the to do list.

It didn't end too well...obviously, and when I found him in bed with one of my best friends—that ended two relationships in less then five minutes.

He was the one who owned the apartment, the car, every thing that we had once shared, and he was the only one with the means to purchase these things as well. My degree was practically useless in a normal field—so, all I managed to find was...okay...paying cooking jobs.

Eventually, I landed a job here at Bob's Diner; my boss—Bob—a seventy two year old man who refused to retire, paid me enough to stay afloat. Although sometimes, it felt like I was drowning, with student loans and bills...I almost never had extra money.

But I was making it—on my own. Making something out of life when it felt like there was nothing to be done. I knew for a fact I didn't want to go back to my parents in Kansas, with my tail tucked between my legs. That small town wouldn't do anything but slow me down. Besides, I wasn't weak or a victim—and I wouldn't ever give up.

"Hey sweet cheeks."

I rolled my eyes with my head turned so he wouldn't notice, at the creepy customer with jet black hair, pimples, and a greasy looking salt n pepper beard. He was smirking at me, revealing crooked and stained yellow teeth. I tried my hardest not to cringe, I just set his food down and smiled.

"Was there something I could get you...sir?" I asked as politely as I could muster.

He licked his dry, crusty lips, then looked me up and down—now revealing a big toothy grin. My body turned stiff and rigid, and I felt naked even though I was fully covered in my long sleeve white tee and jeans.

"Why don't you turn around and get me some extra ketchup...please doll face."

"Of course, right away."

I wanted to say no—but honestly he probably would leave the best tip of the night. And who was I to reject money? He could be a creep as long as he wanted, as long as he kept his filthy, creepy paws to himself.

"Hey, is that guy bothering you?" Bob asked, while he placed a fresh thing of fries into the hot oil.

"It's nothing I can't handle." I replied, grabbing the ketchup.

"Okay—well just let me know."

"Alright I will, thanks."

I loved Bob, he was old fashioned—and never tolerated disrespect directed to his female workers (or male ones for that matter), but honestly what could he really do in his old age? If he tried to throw a punch, he could throw his own back out.