chapter 5: The "What If" Fight
211 Words
The second I got back to the diner, I slammed the delivery tray on the counter. Sasha was there, wiping down a table and looking way too hopeful.
"So?" she whispered, leaning in. "Did he give you the tip? Was it huge?"
"He tried to pay me to perform, Sasha," I snapped, my voice shaking. "He thought I was you. He had some 'special contract' ready for you to sign."
Sasha froze, her eyes going wide. But she didn't look horrified. She looked... jealous.
"And you said no?" she asked, her voice reaching a pitch that made my ears ring. "Elena, are you kidding me? That guy is a billionaire. Do you know what that kind of money does? It pays my rent for a year. It gets me out of this grease-trap diner!"
"It’s my dignity, Sasha! He treated me like a vending machine."
"Dignity doesn't pay for electricity!" Sasha groaned, throwing her rag down. "I wish it had been me. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. You’re over here playing moral high ground while your shoes are literally falling apart. Must be nice to be so 'proud' while you’re starving."
She stormed off to the kitchen, leaving me standing there feeling like the i***t for actually having standards.
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