A post-it note was stuck underneath the windshield wiper of my pickup. I pulled it out and read, "Gas tank is full. Grant."
Grant had filled up my tank? It made me feel warm all over. How kind of him! Zayn's label of "sucker" echoed in my ears and I made sure to remember to give Grant back the money for the fuel as soon as possible. No way would I be thrown in the same pot with my father.
I got into the pickup, the engine started smoothly, and drove out the driveway. Even now, a lot of cars were parked there, although not as many as the night before. I wondered who had slept at the house. I hadn't come across anyone besides Zayn and the man who he had ushered out.
Although Zayn wasn't the nicest person, he was at least fair. I had to give him that. And hot as hell. I would have to learn to overlook this. But I would manage that. We probably wouldn't cross each other's paths too often, anyway, especially since he seemed like he didn't make much of company.
I decided to look for a job in Rosemary, to be able to save fuel — and I would get out of Zayn's way quicker. I had gotten a hold of a local newspaper, had circled a few different job offers and gone my way. There were two restaurants looking for a waiter. I introduced myself and the chances for getting the job weren't too bad. Unfortunately, the amount of tips were rather low. After all, a waiter relies on that. Okay, in a pinch I would do it. One of the regional drugstores had been looking for a cashier, but I was too late and the position was already taken. As for the job as a receptionist at the children's doctor—I most likely wouldn't get it due to lack of experience.
There was one job offer left. I had left it for the end, because I didn't want to get my hopes up for it: A waiter at the local country club. I would get seven dollars per hour and the people there tipped very high. Further services—like medical insurance—would also be included.
In the newspaper it said that applicants for the job should come to the head office behind the club house of the golf course. I followed the instructions and parked my pickup next to a fancy Volvo. I bent the rearview mirror and looked over myself. I had bought a cheap styling gel at the drugstore earlier. After using it, I immediately looked older! The loose button up shirt I had picked up beforehand, emphasized this. I let a hand go through my blond hair once more and prayed for luck.
I didn't bother locking the pickup. No-one here would want to steal it. Not when most of the parked cars here, had a value of sixty-thousand dollars. I walked down the few stairs to the head office, took a deep breath, pushed the door open and entered.
A petite woman with a short brown bob and a pair of subtle wire-rimmed glasses marched across the lobby. She abruptly came to a stop at the sight of me, eyeing me from head to toe and nodded in my direction.
"Are you looking for a job?" She asked in a commanding tone.
I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The waiter job."
She gave me a brief smile. "Good. You have that certain something. That way the club members won't even notice if you spill something. Can you drive a golf cart and open a beer with a bottle opener?"
I nodded.
"Then you're officially recruited. I'm missing someone on the golf course right now. Come with me, you'll get your work clothes."
I was just fine with this. She twirled around and headed towards a room as if she was on a mission. I followed her. She opened the door and we walked in.
"You're probably a size S in the tops, but we'll need a bigger size for the shorts. The men will be pleased. They like a big bottom. Let's see..." She was talking about my butt. How awkward. She snatched a light blue polo shirt from the shelves and handed it to me. After that she took a pair of shorts. "These are short. Should fit tightly. This may be a posh club, but the man still need something nice to look at. Which we are giving them in the form of tight polo shirts and short white shorts. Don't worry about the paper work. We'll fill everything out after work. For now, you'll stay at the golf course for a week. If you're doing a good job, we'll maybe move you to the club restaurant. We're understaffed there too. Faces like yours aren't found that easily. Anyway, get dressed now. I'll take you to the beverage cart after that."
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Starring Role [ Ziall ]
FanfictionIt almost feels like a joke to play out the part, When you are not the starring role in someone else's heart. You know I'd rather walk alone, than play a supporting role, If I can't get the starring role. Sometimes, I ignore you, so I feel i...