I took Bonnie's advise and booked myself an appointment with a shrink. I've never really been a fanatic of telling people my problems. I prefer to deal with them one on one by myself. I am a believer of self pep talks- the extensive discussions you have with yourself in front of a mirror- which work out quite well for me. The Naila in the mirror always sounds wiser than the one facing her.
But the conservatory ordeal spooked me into a woman terrified of her own shadow. I need to get a grip of my life before I lose myself all together. If a shrink is the way to go then I am going in with both feet... I think. At least I intend to try. What do I have to lose when it's a total stranger I will never see again?
Tonight is like the other seventeen nights I have worked in this club. It is noisy, crowded and literally impossible to keep up with all the orders thrown at you unless you are an automated robot. The tips are also scarce. With the meagre salary, tips were the next big thing. Tips mostly come from upstairs in the lounges. That's where all the rich people hang out. Being new I am not 'qualified' to serve the lounges upstairs so I rely on the mercy of the perverts down stairs who get kicks out of grabbing any piece of ass that walks by. If I can only cut off each hand that has groped me.
"Can you cover my shift?"
Like I said, I am the new girl. That makes people think they can give me extra work and all the tables they don't want to serve. Covering shifts is also part of the package of being new.
"I can't." I declined immediately.
She threw me a disapproving look. "Why newbie?" She is chewing pink bubble gum. I hate the smell of bubble gum. I feel tempted to throw up at her. Petra is a rude ill-mannered girl . All we exchange on a daily basis are mean words and dirty looks.
"First of all my name is Lyn not newbie." I corrected her. "Secondly you never speak to me so lets keep the silence, it's preferred. Lastly, I just don't feel like it."
I am a waitress with a made up name but deep inside I am still that fierce English girl with a bad temper.
She mattered something in a language I didn't understand and twirled off swinging her skinny bottom. Let it be noted that nothing really sways.
I may be at a whole new low in my life but getting pushed around isn't going to be tolerated. Wayne never raised any of us to be bullied. He raised us to be the bullies.
"She called you stupid." A man seated by the table I was setting down a bottle of scotch told me.
The two blonde women on either of his side can't keep their hands off him. He seems to enjoy it. I brought my silver eyes to meet his dark brown pair. He wore a pleasant smile probably aimed to please me. I briefly reflected it out of courtesy but nothing more.
Since the conservatory, men aren't really my cup of tea.
"You understand her language." I attempted to make small talk for formality purposes. It's better than standing around waiting for some pervert to gather the courage to get on my nerves.
"She's Russian." He sipped his scotch. "I'm Russian as well."
"Good to know." Irrelevant really. What am I supposed to do with that information? "Enjoy your drink." I maintained a polite smile. I actually don't care if he chokes on it. Damn my bad attitude!
"Miss wait!" He caught my hand. "What are you doing after your shift?"
I finally noted his slight Russian accent. When I glanced at his hand around my wrist I thought of the man who had assaulted me and quickly yanked my hand away like his touch burned.
YOU ARE READING
The Harrington Series Book#2: Naila's Misfortune
Romance"I've always found beginnings to be scary and endings to be sad. Taking the first step toward telling you i love you got me to break a sweat. It was always that feeling that knots up your insides and your throat runs dry. I believe it's because you...
