Lost Souls Book 1 Collison

Chapter 2

The minute she stepped inside, Jerry, descended on her, red faced and puffing like an old steam engine.

"What the f**k time do you call this, Tabitha? Your shift started twenty minutes ago and we're swamped!" He was tapping the face of his wristwatch so hard he reminded Tabby of a spacsic woodpecker.

Tap, tap, tap, tap - because everyone knows that's how you make time rewind, don't you know? 

"Hey Jerry, give the girl a break, man. Her car just beached itself in the lot and died. It's a miracle she got here at all."

Thank god for Nick, ever the peacemaker! Tabby could have kissed her sweet friend, grateful to have his support.

"Not my f*****g problem," Jerry bellowed, displaying a mouth full of tobacco stained teeth the size of piano keys. "The bar full of hungry patrons out there and the fact that my lazy ass cooks can't be bothered to f*****g show up on time is my problem though!"

He grabbed an apron off the prep table and flung it angrily at Tabby. "Get your ass in front of that grill and start frying." He pivoted on his heel and began stalking away. Halfway to the doors to the bar, he stopped and threw a dirty look over his shoulder at Tabby. "We aren't finished here, Tabitha, see me after closing,"He stormed the rest of the way across the kitchen and shoved through the swinging double doors, narrowly avoiding smashing the doors into the face of a server returning with a tray full of dirty dishware.

Tabby's heart sunk - like cannonballs-tied-to-her-ankles kind of sunk. The last thing she wanted to do, was be stuck alone with her boss. When the abusive d**k wasn't yelling at her, belittling her or trying to make a sleazy pass at her, his hands had a tendency to get a little too friendly for Tabby's comfort and it creeped her out.

She shuddered at the memory of his overly friendly hugs and casual pats on her backside that he passed off as jokes; he always managed to find an excuse to infringe on her personal space, making her feel uneasy whenever he was nearby.

She wasn't the only staff member who had found Jerry a little too friendly for comfort. In the past month, three female servers had quit without warning, leaving the bar seriously short-staffed. Two were new hires that only worded a few days before one walked away mid-shift and the other never showed up for her next shift. The third was a woman who had stuck it out for two months before quitting and threatening to report Jerry for s****l harassment.

Tabby was still waiting to see if anything promising would result from that complaint. If the threat had bothered Jerry though, he wasn't showing it. If anything, it just made him even more unbearable. He barely hid his disdain for women and constantly made disparaging or salacious remarks about his female employees. Tabby hated being around him, instinctively not trusting the vile snake but quitting wasn't an option. She needed to keep her job for as long as possible, or at least until she could find something else. The only choice she had was to keep her head down as much as possible and try to stay off Jerry's radar.

It was working until her goddamn car had really started acting up inconveniencing Jerry. Being late had put her in his line of fire...repeatedly, making it impossible for her to evade his attention.

Having to face Jerry on her own was a prospect that goaded something oily and heavy to begin squirming restlessly in her belly, making her feel slightly nauseous.

Jerry wasn't a nice man and he most definitely wasn't a handsome man. In fact, he was the type of person that handsome sized up at birth, and then took the zero and left town...except he was the only one who didn't realize it. The view through Jerry's rose-coloured glasses made him believe he was the proverbial God's gift to women and that every female practically wet their panites just for the opportunity to spend time in his presence. That delusion only intensified when he was drinking, garnering him many slaps from outraged women upon whom he'd tried to bestow his unwanted affections. 

Because of his lascivious reputation, Tabby had noticed a huge drop in the number of single female patrons in the past few months. With the lack of available women at the bar, the number of men had dropped off correspondingly, putting the business into serious jeopardy. Men flocked to where there were women and Jack's Bar & Grill had become a desert where the female gender was concerned. Jerry's disgusting behaviour and inferior food offerings was slowly driving his business into bankruptcy and he didn't seem to notice.

Medium height, an inch or two shy of six feet; Jerry had the look of a man that had spent too much time chasing vices that took a heavy toll on a body. Deep lines covered his forehead, etched into skin that resembled worn shoe leather, a direct result of bathing in toxic tobacco smoke for decades. Unhealthy eating habits had expanded his middle age spread into an unhealthy paunch that overhung his belt in a way that strained the limits of the buttons of his shirt to keep his belly contained. 

His greasey, black hair had more salt than pepper in it now and had thinned to the point where he'd resorted to the dreaded "comb over" in a lame attempt to hide a hairline that was in full retreat. As if that could hide the shiny scalp that lay beneath the sparse strands.

His vanity blinded him to reality and made him a laughing stock amongst his staff. Tabby had actually caught him, more than once, preening in front of the mirror in his office, combing and re-combing his hair like some 50's teen idol, giving his reflection congratulatory winks and thumbs up as he attempted to convince his wispy strands to stay in place. Somebody really needed to tell him that although he had the attitude, he lacked the hair, the looks and the youth to pull it off without looking like a fat, overaged, alcoholic peacock. 

Tabby decided she'd leave that job to someone much braver and larger than she. She had a feeling the pompous ass wouldn't take well to having that particular bubble burst for him. 

OF all his vices, Jerry's drinking habit was the one that affected everyone around his the most. It was also his one habit that worried Tabby the most. He drank excessively, on a frequent basis, and it showed in his permanently flushed cheeks and reddened nose. Jerry was so deluded that he didn't even bother trying to hide his alcoholism, believing that a tumbler full bo booze made him look more masculine to the customers, especially the female ones. Because of this, he usually had a glass of bourbon in his hand or nearby, whenever he was the restaurant - a bottomless glass the Jerry reliffled as fast as he emptied it.

Jerry's drinking wasn't a problem for him - it was a problem for everyone else. The more he drank the more aggressive and obnoxious he became so that by the of each night, the staff have him a wide berth as lumbered around the premises looking like dyspeptic gorilla spoiling for a fight. 

The florid glow already high on Jerry's cheeks was ample warning to Tabby that her boss had begun his drinking binge early that evening - a fact that didn't bode well for the shape he was to be in by closing time. 

Maybe he'd just pass out and forget, Tabby hoped. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it and she prayed history would repeat itself tonight. Please just let him drink himself into oblivion. She'd be able to sneak out and avoid the confrontation without Jerry being the wiser, at least until he sobered up, and she'd be long gone by then. 

Tabby grimaced. Dealing with a sober Jerry was never a pleasant task. On a good day, he was an abrasive, arrogant, chauvinistic pig, but drunk and pissed off? Tabby shivered as an icy finger of dread scraped its pointy nail down her spine. The drunker he got the more irrational and unpredictable he became. Dealing with him in that state would be like playing blind man's bluff in a den full of sleeping grizzlies. 

Fuck me, she thought. I should've stayed home. 

She scanned the kitchen. "Uh...where's Mica?" she asked, suddenly noticing the conspicuous lack of the other cook that was supposed to be on shift with her. Nick took one last drag off his cigarette and then flicked the still glowing butt into a bucket of stagnant water that sat by the rear door. It hissed briefly before winking out, joining the dozens of other dead soldiers floating in the murky water. 

"Didn't come in. I think he called in sick with the flu of some shit." He c****d a sympathetic eyebrow at Tabby. "You picked the wrong day to be late sugar-pie."

Tabby's stomach sunk and a headache began throbbing behind her eyes. "Yeah, because I planned it that way..." she mumbled. She hurriedly stashed her purse in her cubby, wrapped the apron around her waist and headed for the grill. The printer sat buried under a mountain of paper, happily grinding out more tickets as the orders came in. Tabby swore under her breath and began tearing them off and putting them in order. 

She wrapped her long hair into a loose ponytail, covered it with an uber sexy hair net and perused the waiting pile of orders to see what needed doing first. Thank god, someone had at least had the forethought to get the grill and fryer turned on. Everything was warmed up and ready to go, all Tabby needed to do was get her s**t organized and get busy.