Zuria
I stared at Mr. Connor with disbelief twisting my features.
What the hell was his problem? Was he truly that hell-bent on making my life miserable?
This wasn't what I needed right now. Not after the way the day had already started, and definitely not with a baby growing inside me, making me hungrier and more emotional than I'd ever been in my life. My appetite had doubled—tripled on some days. How the hell was I supposed to survive on twenty dollars a day?
"But Mr. Connor," I began, my voice calm but tinged with confusion, "don't you think that's too much? I mean, nothing was destroyed. No one even got hurt. Why are you cutting such a huge amount from my wage?"
He didn't even look up from the papers in front of him. "That's the restaurant's policy," he muttered blandly. "You break something or cause a ruckus, you pay for the damages out of your wage."
My eyebrows pulled together as irritation bubbled inside me. "But this is too much," I repeated, this time unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. "That wasn't a ruckus. That was—"
"If you have a problem with it," he said as he finally lifted his head and folded his hands under his chin with a smirk tugging at his lips, "you can go ahead and talk to the manager…"
His smile widened.
"…oh wait," he added, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm the manager."
Then he laughed. Loud. Manically.
It took every ounce of restraint I had not to lunge across the table and strangle him with his own tie.
The hatred I felt for Mr. Connor knew no limits. Everything about him annoyed the life out of me—from his shiny bald head that reflected too much light, to the way his gut stretched the buttons of his cheap shirt, to the arrogant way he strutted around like he owned the world.
After Arien, Mr. Connor was the next on my growing list of people I wished I'd never met. And I wasn't even joking.
I stood up from the chair so fast that it crashed to the floor with a loud slam, echoing through the small office. But I didn't care. I let every ounce of fury I felt show in my eyes as I stared at him.
"It's really shocking how you're treating me just because I refused to sleep with you," I spat.
That got his attention. The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a flicker of surprise. But only for a moment. He chuckled again, this time slower, darker.
"I could report you," I continued. "I could tell the owner of this restaurant that you've been doing the same thing to all the other girls here. You think he wouldn't care?"
"Report me?" he asked, standing slowly. "And you really think he'd believe you?"
He walked around the desk, casually, like a villain in a slow-burning movie. Then he sat on the edge of the table, arms crossed.
"Who do you think he's going to believe?" he asked, voice low and mocking. "You—a girl who's only been here what? A month?" He waved his hand at me like I was a speck of dust. "Or me, the manager who's been here for ten years?"
He laughed again and leaned closer, as if to rub it in. "Stop fantasizing about things that are never going to happen, little girl. Now get out of my office before I increase your fine."
I stood there, trembling, but not from fear. My fists were clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. I breathed hard, trying to calm myself. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit him. But I had no proof. Nothing I could use against him. And he knew that.
I turned around, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
"All of this would've been avoided," he muttered behind me, "if you'd just accepted my offer."
I didn't turn back. I couldn't. If I did, I was going to do something I'd regret. Instead, I pushed the door open and slammed it behind me as hard as I could.
The hallway was quiet, but my mind was anything but.
I stopped and leaned against the wall, taking deep, shaky breaths. I had to calm down before I went back into the kitchen. If Danny saw me like this, he'd ask questions. He always did. And I didn't want him involved.
I wiped the corners of my eyes, squared my shoulders, and walked into the kitchen like nothing had happened.
"Where were you?" Danny asked the second I stepped in.
I gave him a shrug. "Nowhere. Just cleaning up."
His eyes narrowed a little, searching my face. "You sure?"
"Yeah." I avoided eye contact and slipped on my washing gloves.
Danny didn't look convinced. "Okay… I just thought maybe you were upset about your aunt and uncle showing up earlier. You've got that look on your face again."
I scoffed. "Why would I be? They've been embarrassing me since I was a kid. It's nothing new."
He studied me for a moment longer, but eventually nodded. "Alright. If you say so."
I focused on the dishes, letting the clinking and splashing of water drown out my thoughts.
"Anyway," I said after a pause, "you might want to get back to your post before Mr. Connor walks in here and starts yelling. I definitely don't want that."
Danny let out a groan. "Right, right. I'm going."
He pushed off the counter and walked away, and I finally allowed myself to exhale.
Hours Later
My stomach growled so loudly I swore it echoed off the walls. Again. I glanced around the kitchen, wondering if there was anything left over I could sneak a bite of.
Before I could even think of stealing a roll, Danny showed up with a full plate of food.
"I figured you'd be hungry," he said, placing it in front of me.
"You're a lifesaver," I said gratefully, already digging in.
The first bite was so good I actually closed my eyes. Food had never tasted better in my life. My whole body felt like it sighed in relief.
Danny burst into laughter. "You eat like someone possessed," he teased. "It's funny."
"Pregnancy will do that to you," I mumbled through a mouthful of rice. "Shut up."
He chuckled again. "Just hurry up and eat so we can go collect our pay and bounce."
I didn't need to be told twice. I finished the food quickly, washed the plate, and followed him to the front.
Mr. Connor was sitting behind the front desk, handing out envelopes. Danny was ahead of me in the line, and I'd completely forgotten what had happened earlier. My stomach was full, my brain in a mild food coma. Until Mr. Connor pulled out two ten-dollar bills and handed them to me.
Just like that, it all came crashing back.
I froze.
Danny turned, looked at my hands, and frowned.
"Why are you giving her twenty dollars?" he asked sharply. "Her pay's more than that."
Mr. Connor didn't even flinch. "I cut her pay by thirty dollars for the commotion she caused in the restaurant this morning," he said casually, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb.
I didn't look at Mr. Connor. I looked at Danny.
I watched the change happen in his expression—his confusion melting into fury.
His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared. "You did what?" he asked slowly, his voice suddenly deeper, angrier.
Mr. Connor raised a brow. "Is there a problem?"
"Hell yeah, there's a problem!" Danny snapped. "She didn't do anything wrong! You were the one who caused the whole scene by stepping in where you weren't needed!"
Mr. Connor narrowed his eyes. "Watch your tone, Danny."
"No. You're exploiting her. And I'm not going to stand here and pretend I don't see it. You've been treating her like crap since the day she started."
I reached out and gently grabbed Danny's arm. "Let it go," I whispered.
"No," he said, not taking his eyes off Mr. Connor. "This isn't okay. I'm not going to keep my mouth shut while you punish her for something she didn't do."
Mr. Connor stood up slowly. "You can leave now, Danny."
Danny looked down at me, then back at the manager. "I'm going to talk to the owner."
Mr. Connor laughed again. "Be my guest."
Danny clenched his fists but said nothing more. He turned around and stormed out the door.
I followed quietly behind him, still holding the measly twenty dollars in my hand.
As soon as we stepped outside, he turned to me. "You're not coming back here tomorrow."
"Danny—"
"I'm serious. You can't keep working here. Not with him. He's not going to stop. He's only going to get worse."
"I don't have another job, Danny," I said softly. "I can't just leave."
He looked like he wanted to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath and reached into his wallet. He pulled out a few bills and shoved them into my hand.
"Take it."
"No—Danny, I can't."
"You're pregnant, Zuria. You can't live on twenty dollars a day. Take it."
I looked down at the money in my hand. Then up at him.
"Thank you."
He nodded once, jaw still tight.
And for the first time that day, I felt seen. I felt like I wasn't alone.
Even if the world was stacked against me—Arien, Mr. Connor, my aunt and uncle—I had someone in my corner.
And sometimes, that made all the difference.