Glamour [Book 1] (Completed)

Chapter 11 | Job Bound

Chapter 11

"Are you all right Miss?"

I struggle for a moment as I open my eyes to the gaze of white sunlight. It's hard to believe I was even standing, staring at my reflection, waiting to go inside. I dimly remember pictures of a woman and a red star that was blurred across a hardwood floor. When my mind comes back to reality I stare in the face of an old woman, or a middle-aged looking old woman. She wore little to no makeup, which surprised me for her age, and wore a genuine white dress that hugged her curves. Her hair was a ball of blonde on top of her head, and her white neck was decorated nicely with a long pearl necklace.

As I take her in, I remember why I was standing in front of "The Snack Shack". I can almost feel the heat rise to my cheeks, glowing and probably melting past my makeup that was used to hide my puberty pimples. "I...gosh, I'm sorry, yes I just zoned out waiting." I apologize to the manager of "The Snack Shack" not wanting to make the wrong impression.

She gives a hearted laugh, and jingles her keys. "I almost thought you were gawking at my amazing work, but I guess you got bored and zoned out." She winks.

"No! No, no, no..." I try to hide my embarrassment but instead she unlocks the door without any other thought, waving a hand behind her- toward me.

"Don't worry about it, I was just messing with you. I should be the one apologizing for being late." We enter the "The Snack Shack" and the cold air was what caught my attention first. Across each wall of the rectangular front room were red booths and casual wooden tables to go along with them. Light hardwood floors, and dangling chandeliers to accommodate the artsy interior wall designs. Each of the four walls had a slogan or a quote, trying to show inspiration and creativity. Along the farthest back wall is a bar, which had an area where the employees and waitresses could manage drinks and human affairs (a great way for picking out information from the drunkies).

"If you would come this way, I have some paper I want you to sign before you start working." I turn to look at her, and I was convinced for a moment that she was tricking me into thinking I had the job, but it turned out I had already been taken up on the offer. She just needed a signature saying I was over eighteen.

I was seventeen.

"Don't worry about the age, I can get a glamour for you to wear in front of the suspicious."

"Or get me a fake ID." I state while taking the black Dollar Tree pen in hand.

"And a glamour?" She winks again, and I could tell she was a very easy-going person at heart.

"I don't need a magical mask that covers my face from others, I look eighteen as it is." I scribble a half-hearted signature onto the piece of paper, dropping the pen when I am satisfied.

She takes the contract from underneath my fingers, and looks it over once for me. "I'll get you started on your job times. I understand you still go to school?" She slides open a filing cabinet, sliding it in to the "M" section for my last name "Meyer".

"I go to Redwood..." I pause, not knowing what else I should say, "the High School."

"Yes, I know of Redwood. You have exceptional grades." She was no longer talking to me, as she takes her phone out to look at something. "Anyway," she exclaims, "how does after school around five to nine do?"

"Isn't it illegal to have minors working past seven..." I trail off, wondering if I should question my boss.

"No. As an eighteen-year-old I think you should be perfectly fine!" she stuffs her phone into her pocket, and holds out her right hand, "Welcome to 'The Snack Shack'."

I did not exactly feel welcome with the crazed look that surfaced between her eyes, but I was not going to question it because I got a job: a job that paid decently as well.

I regret it.