"Lea...Lea...Lea!?"
"WHAT!?" Lea hollered when she realized someone had been calling out to her. She looked up into her father's dissatisfied face and then followed his gaze down to the chicken that she had been frying. It had burnt to a crisp, the only remains being black charcoal like peices. She looked back up at her dad, and manager of the restaurant, apologetically. "Whoops, sorry..."
"Where has your head been lately, little lady!?" Ian Barker asked with a roll of his eyes. "That's the fifth dinner you've burnt tonight. You're burning money, you know."
"I'm sorry Daddy, I--" Lea started, but her father was quick to interject.
"How are you going to take over my position at Barkers if you can't even fry a damned piece of chicken!?" he sneered, leaning over her to enhance his dominance. Lea hated when her father got like this. When they weren't at work together, Ian Barker was a wonderful dad. But as soon as they got to the restaurant he became demanding, egotistical and just plain annoying.
"I'm sorry Daddy," Lea sighed. "It won't happen again."
"Where is your head, Darling?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.
She responded, "I'm fine. I'm just...a little tired that's all. Just let me shake it off and get back to work. I promise not to let you down again."
"No, no...you're clearly too tired to be working." He sighed and rubbed the sweat from his forehead. "Just take a few weeks off, then. Lord knows you need it."
She shook her head with conviction. Her father's words were making her angry. "No, I don't. Trust me, I'm fine. And you wouldn't be telling anyone else that works here to take a 'few weeks off.' I hate when you treat me like this, just because I'm a Barker."
"Nobody else that works here is burning everything they put on the stove," he shot back quickly. "I can't have you in the kitchen screwing everything up. You're taking time off. You can come back when you have your act together. That's final."
"But Daddy--!"
"Hang up your apron and go!" Ian shouted demandingly.
Lea jumped, then rolled her eyes. Sometimes she hated her father. But she knew she couldn't argue with him. She also knew she never really wanted to be at the restaurant anyways. All the time she spent at the restaurant, she spent hating her job and wishing she were home, helping Dylan and Jade.
Being with Dylan.
Oh god, Dylan.
"Lea, you're drooling all over the stove!" her dad cried out, pulling her out of the trance she was in.
Lea jumped again at the sound of her father's voice, then looked down at the puddle of drool that now sat on top of the stove. She reached for a rag and cleaned up the mess before she scowled up at her dad sarcastically. "Actually, that break is looking better and better. Thanks Dad," she said and rolled her eyes. Then, she grabbed her jacket, threw it over her shoulders and ran off toward her apartment where Dylan and Jade waited.
...
"Just come here so I can kill you, you wretched wicked BEAST!"
Lea heard these words as she opened the door to her apartment. She poked her head inside cautiously and looked into the living room.
Jade stood on a pile of newspapers, on top of a dining room chair. She had a colander on top of her head, a fly swatter in her hand and a mean look in her eye. Dylan sat at the kitchen table. The phone sat on the table in front of him but he wasn't using it. Instead, he watched in amusement as Jade flung the fly swatter around in determination.
