I turn to face her, fear turning my blood ice-cold. “Is he going to fire me?”
“No.” Jen doesn’t offer any other sort of explanation.
“What’s going to happen, then?”
“He’s going to ask if you take this job seriously. He sees a lot of potential in you, Fable. He wants you to eventually take it to the next level here.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Give me a break. I’m a freaking waitress. Yeah, from what I can see so far, the tips are fabulous. Better than any other place I’ve ever worked at. But there’s not a lot of room for growth at The District. I’m not stupid.
“You know how T goes around helping him open restaurants and training the staff? Colin has huge plans. He wants to open up a bunch of Districts all over the state and eventually the West Coast, turning it into a chain. And he needs more training staff.”
“I’ve been here only a couple of weeks,” I point out incredulously.
“I told you, he thinks you have potential.”
“You’ve been with him longer. Why wouldn’t he choose you for his new training person? Or any of the other girls who work here?”
“I don’t…like to travel.” Hmmm, there’s something she’s hiding, I can tell. “And the other girls, they’re just here to get dressed up and look pretty and pick up guys. They view this job as a way to get spending money and keep Mom and Dad happy while they nearly fail college. They don’t have future aspirations for the food industry.” Jen shakes her head.
“Well, I don’t have future aspirations for the food industry either,” I retort. Hell no, do I want to work at a restaurant for the rest of my life. I hate this sort of thing. I’m doing it because it’s all I know.
“Well, what are your future aspirations?”
Funny thing is, I haven’t a clue. I always talk about having hopes and dreams and wanting to get the hell away from this small town. But what do I really want to do? What do I want to be when I grow up?
I haven’t a fucking clue.
“Is she here—oh.” Colin stops short as he strides into the room, looking totally surprised to see me standing there. “Fable. I was looking for you.”
“I heard,” I can’t help but say, earning a death glare from Jen.
“Have a minute? I’d like to talk to you.” He smiles, his stance relaxed. All that easygoing don’t-worry charm buzzing all around him. He looks damn good in dark jeans and a white button-up shirt he left untucked, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms.
I may be in love with Drew, but I can appreciate a handsome man when I see one.
“Am I in trouble?” I ask, making sure Jen wasn’t lying.
“Not at all,” he says quickly, his voice smooth.
I raise a brow, letting him know I don’t quite believe him. “Shouldn’t I be preparing the tables for the evening?”
“Jen has it under control for now. Besides, I only need to take up a few minutes of your time. Then you can go polish glasses to your heart’s content.” He chuckles and presses his hand to my lower back when he approaches me, guiding me to his office, his hand never leaving me.
I shrug away from his touch the second we walk into his office. He shuts the door behind us, rounding his desk and pointing a finger toward an empty chair. “Have a seat.”
Sitting on the edge of the seat, I tap my heel against the bare wood floor. We’re wearing the lace shirt/black shorts getup again and I know when Drew picks me up from work, he’s going to probably attack me.
Dirty girl that I am, I can’t freaking wait.
“What happened with the shift change, Fable?” Colin asks once he settles in behind his desk.
“I had something come up.” I shrug. “Something personal.”
He raises a single brow. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine.”
“I don’t mind when my employees switch out their schedules as long as everyone’s covered and as long as people don’t make a habit out of it. I do have some concerns, though.” He rests his folded arms on top of the desk, his expression dire. “Are you happy here?”
I’m taken aback by his question. “Um, yeah.”
His eyes harden. “Really?”
“What are you digging at? I mean, I’ve only been working here a few weeks. If you’re not happy with me, then go ahead and fire me.” I perch farther on the edge of my chair, ready to take flight if need be.
“You automatically assume the worst, don’t you?”
This little meeting is getting ridiculous. “Listen, say what you need to say and get it over with. I’m not in the mood for a bunch of games tonight.”