Emily jumped up as the sun rays touched her skin, and she took her phone to check the time. It was 9:23 a.m.
"Damn! I'm going to be late for work. " She said that as she ran into the bathroom and brushed her teeth in a hurry. She looked into her eyes in the mirror.
'This is all Chris's fault.' She thought. He made her work a double shift.
She ran to the cabinet, grabbed her clothes and ran back to the bathroom.
Soon she was done, and not wanting to wake her mother, she left quietly.
Taking her bike from the yard, well placed on the wall, she pedaled cautiously to work.
Emily was a young girl of seventeen. She started working as a waitress in Nich's eatery three months after she graduated from high school.
*
"You're late!" Emily heard her as she walked in through the back door. She turned in shock to see Chris coming out of the kitchen with a tray in his hands containing three glasses of orange juice.
Chris also worked as a waiter in the same restaurant as Emily. He liked poking and teasing her. He was tall, athletic, and fair-skinned. His father owned Nich's eatery.
"What do you expect when I couldn't get enough sleep after working double shifts to cover your girlfriend's absence?" Emily said.
She walked past him and went to the kitchen. Chris sighed and returned to the kitchen, still holding the tray.
"Em, how many times do I have to remind you that I'm not in love with Elsa anymore? We broke up a long time ago. " Chris said, leaning on the wall with his left shoulder.
Emily, who seemed uninterested in what Chris was saying, mumbled a "whatever."
She moved to where her apron was and took it.
"You're lucky; my dad has not yet arrived. You know how he hates late resumption? " He smirked and left. Emily quickly put on her apron and followed.
After some hours, Emily decided to take a break. She took a chair and sat down close to the refrigerator, opposite the main entrance.
'Wait, where the hell is Mike? ' She thought, searching for him with her eyes.
Michael was the first son of Mr. Nicholas, Chris's elder brother. He was also tall and muscular (guess it runs in the family.) but dark-skinned.
Emily, who was still searching with her eyes, sighted a man, probably in his early forties, and a young lady, who would be in her mid thirties, taking a seat and making themselves comfortable. She stood up quickly and went to attend to them.
"Good afternoon to you both." She greeted them as she stood in front of them.
"How would you know?" The man inquired.
"What should I get you?" Emily inquired, ignoring his query.
"Um, we'd like shawarma and... Just get us any drink. " The lady spoke, and Emily nodded before leaving.
Shortly, Emily walked to the table with a tray containing the shawarma and two sodas. She gently dropped them on the table.
"Enjoy. "Emily turned to leave with a smile.
"Wait! " The lady commanded, "What's this?" She inquired, pointing to the soda.
Emily opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the lady.
"Didn't I ask this stupid girl a question?" The lady asked, pointing at Emily and turning to look at the man she came in with.
As much as Emily wanted to smash the tray on her head, she couldn't.
'Was this lady trying to intimidate me? ' She thought.
"It's champagne," Emily answered,sarcastically.
"Don't you know a soda when you see one?"
"And besides, you didn't request for a particular drink." She spoke, pointing at the soda.
"And this is the only thing you could think of?" The lady scoffed.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" She asked, turning to look at Emily with a serious look on her face.
"You can use it to wash that ugly face of yours. You know, it could actually reduce the ugliness, because your face is really scaring the other customers. " Emily blurted out.
The lady was stunned and couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"You're a psychotic animal!" The lady yelled.
Psychotic animal? Before Emily could think if she hadn't heard the lady correctly, she realized she was choking. The lady squeezed the life out of her neck and lifted her so that her feet were no longer on the ground. She opened her mouth to breathe because, apparently, her nose wasn't collecting enough air.
"Eve, you have to stop." The man spoke calmly, taking a bite of the shawarma for the first time.
Then, Michael came out of nowhere, grabbing the lady's arm and twisting it to the back, making her drop Emily and yelping in pain.
The man stood up with fury. His eyes darkened and his fangs elongated. Emily flinched in fear.
Michael quickly took his hands off the lady's arm and backed a few steps backward.
Emily tried to take a closer look at the man to be sure of what she saw, but then she saw nothing. The man was as normal as any other person.
"Is this how you treat customers here?" The man asked, moving his gaze to Emily, who was still on the floor.
"And is this how you treat a waitress?" Emily asked, massaging her neck. She couldn't believe she was still talking after what had just happened. Her oesophagus hurt like hell.
She wondered how a woman could be so strong.
"She could have killed her, and you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it." According to Michael.
"Well, you're lucky. I'm in a good mood.
Just a word with your boss can get the both of you fired. Y'all know that, right? " From the way the man spoke, they knew he wasn't just anybody in society.
"I was really having a good time with this beautiful lady whom you called ugly about an hour ago. " He told Emily, slightly brushing the lady's cheek with the back of his palm.
The lady shot deadly glances at them before storming out the door. The man's lips curved into a smirk, and then he left.
"Are you out of your mind? How many times have I told you about getting into a fight with customers? " Michael said, immediately the man exited the door.
"It wasn't my fault; the lady was impolite. " said Emily, defensively.
"You won't get lucky all the time, so find a way to control that temper of yours. " Michael said, eyeing her before walking away. She sighed in frustration and walked away.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Mrs Rebecca, Emily's mother. Had a beauty saloon. She was a woman of average height and light skin, with big brown eyes.
The door was pushed open. Rebecca turned and saw her best friend Victoria.
"Oh! What perfect timing, "Rebecca said.
Victoria rolled her eyes, already knowing what she meant.
"I'm not in the mood, Rebecca." Victoria said as she sat on the couch.
"Please... There are too many customers, and remember when I helped attend to your customers the other day at your provision store? Now is the right time to return the favor. " Rebecca said and smiled at a customer that had just come in before turning to look at Victoria.
"Okay, fine! I'll help. " She rolled her eyes again and stood up, motioning for a lady to come sit on a chair facing the large mirror so she could start making her hair.
"So how is Emily?" Victoria asked,after the customer had settled down and she had started the hair.
"She's good. Although, she has been asking me some questions lately. " Rebecca answered, her eyes fixated on the hair she was making.
Victoria's eyes widened. "What about?" she asked.
"What else do you think? About her father. " Rebecca answered, her eyes moving from the customer's hair she was making to Victoria.
"Not again!" Victoria screamed. So how did you manage to escape this one? She asked, looking at Rebecca questioningly.
"Trust me, Vicky, I've been dealing with these kinds of questions since Emily was ten years old." Rebecca said, now looking at the hair she was making.
The saloon was quiet afterwards, until Rebecca broke the silence. "What about Jake and Giselle?"
Victoria sighed. "I actually came here to clear my head. Those two are a pain in my ass. They will not stop fighting. Victoria said, frustration clear in her tone.
"Till now?" Rebecca asked, surprised.
"You know what? Let's meet at our usual spot for lunch. My treat. " She said, and Victoria nodded at her words.
"Couldn't agree more. There is something I'd like to talk to you about. " According to Victoria.
*
"All done." Rebecca said to the customer whose hair she was making.
"It's lovely. Thank you. " The customer said, scrutinizing her hair in the large mirror in front of her.
She took her purse and paid for the service before walking out of the saloon.