Her Suited Savior

Chapter 3

Calla Stewart's POV

The next few days went on as usual. Any trace of Mr. King's slight understanding was completely gone and he was back to yelling at me whenever we spoke. Nothing I ever did was enough for him it seemed.

It was Friday night, and although the two-week notice at the diner still stood. I still had to come in for the shifts I was scheduled for until then. Tonight was one of those shifts, it was my first one in almost a week. That didn't really matter anymore, unfortunately.

Even though I was getting the bonus from Mr. King it definitely wasn't what I wanted.

What I wanted was to make it on my own, to prove to myself that I wasn't the failure that I had been told I was so long ago. Instead, I had a hissy fit because I lost my second job and ended up receiving pity money to shut me up. I was so weak.

There was no chance of me getting this job back either, as my manager already had a new worker lined up for my position. Not to mention, Mr. King had clearly stated that I couldn't. It seemed I was out of luck on this one, so I'd just have to smarten up and take my boss's money unless I wanted to be on the streets.

In fact, notice of my potential eviction came a lot sooner than I had anticipated. So without the bonus, I would without a doubt become homeless. The second it had been transferred into my account, it was transferred out and to my landlord. I was not going to wait for him to ask me personally.

The bonus was far larger than I had expected, in fact, it covered almost three-quarters of my debt to my landlord. That debt being 2250 dollars, about four months of rent. The amount I paid for this dingy place was outrageous for what I really got, but that's the price you had to pay to live in a big city.

My apartment was a piece of trash in all honesty. My bedroom was the only one, and it was barely large enough to fit my twin sized bed and a nightstand. The carpet throughout the house was stained and the originally grey colour was now nearly tan. The paint was peeling off of the walls around the windows, and there were cracks running up them and throughout the ceiling. Everything was yellowing from all of the smoking the previous tenants did, and the scent of cigarettes and weed lingered throughout the entire place despite the amount of air freshener I sprayed.

I had purchased all of my furniture from garage sales and thrift stores. The couch in my living room was really just an old futon with wooden arms and a multicoloured afghan laid across it. It sat across from an old bookshelf I snagged. No TV, laptop, or cellphone for me, those were luxuries I simply could not afford.

Across from the living room was the kitchen, and I walked over there to cook myself something to eat before heading to the diner. It was tiny, and there was only one spot on the counter for me to prepare any food. The cabinets were old and nasty and half of them were missing their handles. The edge of the laminate flooring was peeling up, so I carefully stepped over it and grabbed a box of off-brand Kraft Dinner to make.

I grabbed a small pot and filled it with water, although it took awhile since the water pressure was pretty low. I already knew the instructions so I got started easily, cooking it on the one burner that still worked on my stove.

After eating I washed my bowl so all two of them would be clean and I changed into my uniform. I threw my hair into a high ponytail and slipped on my flats before catching the bus over to the diner.

It was a good thing this city was so big, otherwise, the buses would not run all night and I'd be stuck walking downtown late at night, something I definitely was not inclined to do.

I started at nine tonight and would be working until three in the morning. I had weekends off at the office so I would be getting enough sleep tomorrow for sure. The only worry I had was getting too tired tonight since I had worked at the office today too; I had been up for over twelve hours already.