Two - Feliciano

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That's funny. I check my watch, trying to remember the exact moment she walked outside. Looks like it's been ten--almost fifteen minutes. There's no way she got a cab without a credit card. Maybe she came back inside to use the washroom when I was mixing drinks.

"Hey Evita," I say.

She reaches for the bar gun. "Be right with you, guapo." The ice clinks as she slips the cocktail straw into the cup. "Rum and Coke Doble!" A red-haired guy walks up to the counter, thanks her, and grabs his drink. "What's up?" Evita turns to me.

"Remember that girl who was at the bar earlier?"

"Empanada chica?"

"Yeah, did you see if she came back inside?"

Evita shakes her head. "Pretty sure she didn't. Everything okay?" She grins. "Un segundo. Did you forget to get her number?"

"No. It's not like that."

"Whatever you say." She raises her eyebrows.

I smile. "Be cool. I think she forgot her card." I hold it up. "I'm gonna look outside to see if she's still around. Can you hold the fort down for a sec?"

"Does Rihanna slay in every dress she wears?"

I think about it and chuckle. "Yeah."

"Then go."

I slide the credit card into my pocket, run around the bar and jog towards the entrance. A cool breeze hits me when I open the door. I look both ways down the sidewalk, and there's no sign of her. That's shitty. I exhale. Hopefully, she got home okay. Nothing else I can do now, though. So I turn around and head back inside.

At the bar, I open the logbook and flip to the lost and found section. She looked really cute when she thought she'd offended me about the empanadas. That was too easy. I smile and write her name. Giselle Landry. I put the card in the safe under the counter, shut the door, then hang up my apron on the back wall.

"My shift's over," I say to Evita on my way by. "The card's locked up, and before you ask, I filled out the logbook too."

"Look at you, making my job easier for once."

"Didn't you say I was your favourite? Or is that just something you say to all the boys?"

"You are. But that doesn't mean you always make things easy for me."

"Which means what?"

"It's a joke--don't worry about it."

"Okay, well, I hope you have a chill rest of your night--and tell Brad about the card, in case Giselle comes back."

"If his dumb ass shows up, I'll let him know."

"You have my number if things get crazy."

"Thanks." She winks. "Now, get outta here. One of us should enjoy what's left of the night. Cuidate."

"You take care too."

While walking towards the train, I can't stop hoping Brad actually bothers showing up tonight. I don't mind the cash from extra shifts, but Evita calling me after hours is starting to become a habit. And everybody knows why Brad hasn't gotten kicked to the curb yet. Douchebag. I shake my head. Should I go back tomorrow, or should I quit? Unfortunately, the rent won't pay itself.

Screeching train wheels echo from around the corner. I break into a sprint. So much for not doing cardio on weight days. I bolt up the ramp, weave through people leaving the platform and slip inside just before the doors slam shut. Better make a note of those moves. They would be great to pull out on the field this weekend.

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