What Will It Be?

- VANESSA -

It's Saturday, the final night for me at Theo's this weekend. I don't usually work all three nights, so now I'm facing an unforeseen problem. The few outfits that I typically wear at work are dirty, hidden now in my closet for me to do on my own later. What am I going to wear instead?

My phone rings with Mia's smiling face lighting up the screen. 

"Hey Mia." 

"Hey. Working at Theo's again tonight?" 

"Yeah. I go in at six." I glance at the closed bedroom door. "You okay to cover for me again?"

"You know it. I think I might actually come tonight and give you some company." 

"Really?" I look through the clean clothes remaining in my closet. Everything is too bright and proper. That's not consistent with my persona at Theo's at all. 

"Yeah, why not? I can tell my parents I'm with you. And I won't be lying." 

"You think that will work?" I frown at a sheer button down blouse, trying to decide if I can pull it off. If it were black, maybe. 

"My parents know how closely you're guarded, Vanessa. Plus you're like the perfect angel who does no wrong. They won't question it." 

A spear of guilt slices through my heart, because I don't want to be someone others put misplaced trust in. But I just don't have other options.

"I can't find anything to wear," I groan. 

"You have a ton of clothes. How is that possible?" 

"I already wore the only black stuff I have that's even remotely appropriate."

"What about that mini skirt we bought together? Have you worn that already?" 

"The one with the slit up the leg?" I walk further into my closet and dig it out from where it's hidden. There's barely anything to it. "I can't wear that in public." 

"Why not? If you can't wear that working in a bar, then when can you?" 

"Never," I scoff. "We bought it as a joke. It barely covers my ass." 

"But it does cover your ass, so you're good. Plus it's sexy as hell." 

"I don't need to be sexy as hell at this place. There is no one I'm even remotely interested in drawing that kind of attention from." 

"You're behind the bar all night, so what does it matter? Hey, I have to go. I'll see you later." 

"Okay. Bye." 

I hold up the skirt again and sigh. I don't have much time to figure something else out. And why not? None of these people know who I really am. 

I shove it in my bag with a cropped band tee and my black boots so I can change into them when I get there. Hopefully we'll be busy enough tonight that I forget what I'm wearing entirely.

—————

Taryn whistles when I come out of the bar bathroom. "Who are you all dressed up for?" She smirks. 

"No one," I groan. 

Chris's brows raise to his hairline, but he doesn't say anything. 

"What?" I ask when I pass him behind the bar. 

"Nothing," he chuckles, raising his hands in submission. 

Thankfully it's a big crowd tonight, so my discomfort with the length of this skirt or lack thereof doesn't last. Mia arrives, waving excitedly at the side of the bar before sliding onto a stool that someone just vacated. 

"You look hot," she says when I approach. 

"God, don't remind me." I roll my eyes and refuse to look down to evaluate the outfit again. "You look great." 

"Thanks." She shrugs like she's not impressed with herself. But Mia looks adorable. She's wearing a loose black top shrugged over one shoulder with ripped jeans. "I couldn't wear anything crazy. You know… parents."

"I do know," I mumble. "What do you want to drink?" 

"Vodka cranberry?" 

"Got it." 

As I'm making Mia's drink, I feel Jimmy walk in. I immediately glance over at my friend, wanting to make sure she stays far, far away from him. Sure, Mia is just as familiar with being around unsavory characters as I am. But she's also retained a purity and innocence a lot like Chris. In fact, her and Chris would probably get along great.

When Jimmy makes it to the bar, cutting through the bodies so he can stand right in front of me, I hand Chris Mia's drink and point him over to her. 

"That's my friend, Mia," I say in his ear. "You should talk to her if you have a chance. She's really sweet." 

"Trying to fix me up, V?" He gives me a crooked smile and heads her way. 

I give Mia a thumbs-up to let her know Chris is a good guy. I doubt he will have much of a chance to talk to her, but at least Jimmy's attention won't be tracking me to where my friend is sitting if Chris is helping her instead. 

"Whiskey, Jimmy?" I ask, grabbing the bottle and low ball glass. 

He doesn't answer, and when I look back up, he's staring at me with cold, rage-filled eyes. My hand freezes where it's poised over the glass, unsure of what I've done—of what has changed. 

We have always had perfectly smooth interactions. Jimmy has barely glanced at me for more than a few seconds the entire time I've been serving him, but now I'm the object of his entire attention, and I'm reminded of just how dangerous he is. As if his suffocating aura would ever let me forget.

"Would you like something else?" I ask, setting the bottle down against the wood. 

In my peripheral vision, I notice Taryn look my way. 

"That's not how it goes," Jimmy says coldly. "You ask me what it will be." 

I swallow through the thick ball of instinctual fear that's lodged itself in my throat. Jimmy isn't going to do anything to me. I know that. There are too many witnesses. But that doesn't make it any less terrifying staring into the eyes of this particular serial killer.

"Okay," I say calmly. "What will it be?"

He continues to glare at me for what feels like a small eternity like he's deciding whether or not the grievous sin I've committed can be forgiven. Then he says what he always says. 

"What it always is."

We are reciting lines, I realize. And I screwed mine up.

When I commence pouring the whiskey, I realize something else that's deviating from the norm. Jimmy hasn't sat down yet. Instead he's standing, murderous eyes raking over what I'm wearing. 

The ball of fear in my throat sinks into my stomach and fizzes, throwing sparks of terror and nausea all over the place inside. But outside, I'm perfectly calm. 

I hand Jimmy the drink after filling it all the way to the top, and he walks back through the people waiting to order. When I catch sight of him between bodies several minutes later, he's still glaring at me from the perch he's taken up by a tall table in the corner. 

"Shit," I mumble. What the hell is going through his mind right now?

"What happened with Jimmy?" Sarah asks, arriving for the beginning of her shift. All four of us are on tonight. "He looks like he's about to lose it." 

"I guess I pissed him off," I mutter, trying to avoid meeting his eyes again. If he plans on standing there and looking at me like that all night, it's going to be a really long one.