Believe Me, I'm Lying

:Believe Me, I'm Lying: 24

“Harley! Psst! Harley!”

I paused, trying to figure out if I was imagining my name being called or not. When nothing else came, I resumed in my table wiping, leaning across the table so I could reach the other side.

“Harley!”

This time I quickly snapped my head towards the source of the sound, catching the silhouette of a person disappearing into the hall that led to the employee lounge. I glanced around the room, locating Oliver at the cash register. My eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“Harley!”

Throwing my rag down on the table, I turned, and began to walk cautiously towards the hallway. I slowly looked around the corner. No one was there. I frowned, wondering if I was imagining things. Suddenly Anthony appeared in my vision, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. My heart skipped a beat and I took a step backwards in surprise.

“Boo,” he said, grinning.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm my heart. “How did you do that?”

“Secret,” he responded with a wink. “Do you want to take a break?”

“Now?”

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. Why don’t you and Oliver go get something to eat together?”

“I don’t really need a break,” I told Anthony. “Wiping tables isn’t that hard.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why I’m giving you a break.”

I gave him a confused look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve been walking around looking depressed since you got here,” Anthony pointed out. “I’ve never seen you in such low spirits.”

“I’m not depressed—”

“You’re clearly upset about something.”

I shook my head. “I’m just… tired.”

Anthony frowned. “Lying is a bad habit, Harley.”

“I know,” I whispered, dropping my gaze. If anyone knew that, it was definitely me.

“Come on,” Anthony ordered, grabbing my upper arm and dragging me towards the cash register. “You’re going to go eat.”

“I’d rather clean,” I protested, trying to pull free from his grasp. “It’s really nothing—”

“Oliver!” Anthony called, waving at his son. “Oliver, take a break.”

Oliver turned to scowl at us. “I’ll take my break when I want my break.”

“Then you can take another one later, but you’re taking one now.”

Oliver looked thrown off guard. “What?”

“Take Harley out to eat,” Anthony suggested, giving my back a forceful slap. “Before her gloom seeps into our customers.”

“I’m fine,” I stated forcefully, giving Anthony a meaningful look.

“Oliver.”

Oliver shrugged, ducking under the counter. “I’m not going to refuse a paid break.”

“I never said it was paid—”

“Let’s go, Harley,” Oliver ordered, putting a hand on my shoulder, and steering me away from Anthony. “See you later, old man.”

“I’m not old!”

Oliver continued to push me until we arrived at the exit. I watched as he discarded his apron, tossing it onto one of the benches that lined the front waiting area. After a moment I quickly took mine off too, throwing it on top of Oliver’s.