Forever With You (With You #2)

Vanessa

Four years later

T he smell of spilled beer and scotch permeates the air.

And… I happen to be wearing it.

All thanks to my now broken pair of heels currently sitting at the top of the overflowing can of garbage behind the bar.

And it's my fault really, I overused my best pair. No amount of gorilla glue could have salvaged the five years of wear and tear my favorite pair of heels have endured.

Now I'm stuck wearing chucks that are two sizes too big for me courtesy of one of the bartenders that loaned it to me tonight.

I choke back a sob. Those were really my favorite pair. My best friend Ava had gifted it to me for our high school graduation and since then I've been so attached to it that I've used every excuse to wear it. Including wearing it to every single job I've had. From my corporate temp job to my full time waitressing gig at this shitty trying hard to be fancy bar. It's endured countless spills and accidents. Today notwithstanding.

Heels and waitressing should never go together but my boss, Jack, is a turd and a chauvinistic pig. He insists on skirts and heels as a way to get more tips “outta our looks”.

I huff as I attempt to balance the tray of shots I’m carrying as I navigate the narrow space between tabletops at Pints and Twists - the bar and club I work at. My wrist is throbbing from the fall I endured that caused said wreckage to my shoes but I'm doing my best to ignore it, including chugging two ibuprofens earlier in case to prevent any swelling or pain. I didn’t have time to ice it and I can't afford to go home sick. I've already used up all my sick days including vacation time and it's barely June. I need the money, not to mention the tips I would lose out on if I went home on a busy night like tonight.

I do my best to keep smiling at the group of suits all perched around two sets of bar tables all while ignoring their blatant attempts at flirting. I narrowly miss a hand on my ass when I whirl around to make my way back to the bar.

I bite back a sob. Just my luck though that tonight out of all nights, I would end up wearing beer on me.

According to Glen, the cute new bartender who loaned me these shoes, he overheard our boss talking on the phone. Evidently we have a new owner who was coming tonight which meant if I wanted to keep my job, I have to spend the next five remaining hours of my shift smiling and flirting with every finance bro and wannabe influencer in this damn bar. I can’t afford to lose another job. Not now when I’m so close to finally being able to save enough for a downpayment on a new place. Soon, I’ll be able to leave the dump I currently live in and pay off some of my medical bills that I’ve been drowning under?—

No. It can’t be.