Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
7
Jesse
I was beat.
The past few days at work had been crazy. Between that and my class schedule, I wanted to do nothing except go home and sleep for like…eleven thousand years. That likely wouldn’t be happening, but at least I was off that night, so I had that going in my favor. A night off, my rent was paid, and I’d aced an exam. Really, I didn’t have a reason to complain.
I was heading back to the apartment when my phone buzzed with a text. Tugging it out of my pocket, I saw it was from Skylar.
Hey, just thought you should know, Tommy is cutting down his hours. He’s gonna be in a play or some shit. Chet’s gonna be looking for someone to work in the Underground Saturday nights. I know you can sing, so I thought of you.
Well, damn. That was nice of him. I could sing, and honestly, the idea of working a night a week in the Underground was tempting as hell.
The good news was the pace was slower there, which meant I might not be so tired all the time.
The bad news was the pace was slower there, so I likely wouldn’t get as many tips. Oh, and I’d work with Captain Cranky Pants another night a week.
I scratched the Dane thing out of the equation right away. I wasn’t going to let some sexy, cranky, holier-than-thou, sexy guy dictate my decisions. Oh, wait. I’d thought sexy twice, hadn’t I? Plus, it was fun getting him all riled up. Not that I would ever admit that to him. That he was fun. And that I thought he should have more of it. Did Dane have fun? I assumed he did, just not around me. It wasn’t as if I knew him outside of work.
So the real concern was money. Fuck, why did it always come down to cash flow, or in my case, lack thereof? For once, I just wanted something to be easy, just wanted to be able to do what I wanted without having to worry about all the other shit. That obviously wasn’t going to change, though, at least not until I graduated.
There’s an opening for a singer in the Underground… I messaged Seth. He was the only person I felt close enough to talk to about this. It wasn’t raining, so I took a minute to sit down on a bench.
What! That’s awesome! You should go for it. You’d be great! Plus, it might cut down on the headaches.
He made a good point. I hadn’t thought of that. I was pretty sure most of it was just stress I put on myself.
Yeah, I’m thinking about it…
Do it, Jess. And if money is an issue, you know I’ll help.
It’s not, I lied. And hell, maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe Tommy got more tips down there than I thought.
Then do it.
A small jolt of excitement rushed through me. Maybe I wanted to do this more than I thought. It wasn’t like it was my dream or anything. I still wanted to be a therapist and work with queer kids. It was all I’d ever wanted, but this would be something different. It would be an experience, and when I left home, that’s what I’d promised myself I would do—collect each and every experience I could. Why wouldn’t I? You only live once, and I was determined to make the best of that shit.
I think I will. I’m gonna run to the Playground and talk to Chet.
Fingers crossed!
I shot off another text to Sky, thanking him for telling me, then caught the bus and headed to the bar.
The Playground served food too and opened at eleven every morning. They weren’t incredibly busy in the afternoon on weekdays, but weekends were different. They did a pretty popular Sunday Drag Brunch I’d gone to a few times.
There was a newer bartender there, whom I didn’t know very well. I thought his name was Brent or something. “Hey, I’m Jesse.”
“I know who you are.” He gave me that smile, the one that told me he had a lot more on his mind than I was thinking of at the moment.
Brent was a gym rat and had arms as big as my head. He was hot, with platinum blond hair, which I liked, but again, I wasn’t feeling it. Before I got nervous and changed my mind, I wanted to talk to Chet. “Is Chet around?”
Brent didn’t look like he cared much that I wasn’t flirting back. Why would he? He likely was just being playful. “He’s in his office.”
“Thanks.”
I pressed the code on the keypad to get into the office and staff area—where the dressing room, break room, and Chet’s office was. Chet’s desk was a mess like it always was, with papers, books, drink cups, and all sorts of other shit all over it. “Knock, knock,” I said.