the rooftop / g.d

2

GRAYSON'S POV

I race down the street and into the busy restaurant, already knowing I'm late for my shift. I shouldn't have taken that nap. I huff, pushing the staff only door and enter the back room. I grab my apron and tie it behind my waist. 

"Better hope Leighton doesn't check her watch today." Brad murmurs, cleaning a whiskey glass as I round the bar and grab my notepad and pen. I notice he's gotten his hair dyed to hide his greying hair.

I can't believe Leighton made him work tonight. The guy has a family to go home to. His kids are spending New Year's Eve without him. But of course, he took the shift if it meant he earned more money. I understand his struggle.

"Shut up." I mumble lightly and he shakes his head.

"You know how the big boss gets when the place is hectic." He shrugs and I groan.

"Don't need the reminder." I roll my eyes and spot a couple viewing their menus. "Talk later, Brad."

I almost run up to the table to wait on it, attempting to brush off the fact that I came into work late. If Leighton sees me, she will be furious and I can't risk upsetting her, especially tonight.

"May I take your order?" I ask sensibly, standing in the crews required stance.

The woman opens her mouth to speak until she is cut off by a very angry and familiar voice. Leighton. Fuck.

"There will be another waiter taking your order. My apologies." She says to the couple and they nod in understanding despite their confused expressions.

Shit shit shit, she's not letting me do my job. Oh god, she knows I'm late.

She waves her hand at the bar getting Brad's attention. She gestures for him to join us and he grabs his notepad, walking over. We make eye contact for multiple seconds and he gives me a sympathetic smile. I shrug.

"Brad will take your order." Leighton smiles at the couple with a nod. When she turns to face me, the smile is replaced with a hard glare. "Grayson, I need to have a chat with you in the back room."

We walk into the staff only back room which thankfully happens to be empty. If she's brought me here to give me another warning, I'm glad none of the other staff will be listening to it like last time.

But why would she give me a warning in the back room? Usually she'd do that out in the open. Something is wrong.

The middle aged woman in front of me practically has steam shooting from her ears in anger and I watch her struggle to keep calm.

"Grayson. I hope you realise what time it is. I'll give you a second to check." She speaks harshly, resting her hands on her hips.

I gulp, peering at my watch. Shit, I didn't think I was that late. I let out a small sigh.

"7:45." I answer her.

"45 minutes late." She points out the obvious.

"I know, I know-"

"I hope you know that you're fired!" Leighton exclaims and points her bony index finger at me.

My stomach drops. No. I can't lose this job. Fuck no. She didn't fire me. I stare at her in shock for a few seconds, absorbing her words before responding.

"You can't... you can't fire me." I stutter on my words. "Please, give me one more chance." I beg her. I can not afford to be jobless.

"I have given you countless of chances, Grayson. This is the fourth time you've been late to work this month. This month alone!" She practically shouts at me. "I can not have unreliable employees in my work place. Tonight is New Year's Eve! Do you know how many reservations we have tonight before the ball drop?" Leighton rants at me, waving her hands in the air.