Love & Risks - A Rich Prick love story

Chapter 1 - Eden

After coming across a: NOW HIRING sign sitting in the window of Libra's, a small dive bar that was only fifteen minutes away from my new apartment, I decided to take a leap of faith and went inside to apply for the open position. I had no experience waiting tables or even pouring drinks, but I figured that maybe a position as a hostess or even a dishwasher was better than no job at all. As I sat across the table from the owner, Oz, short for Oliver Ziegler, I could feel my hands begin to sweat as he gazed over my pathetic ass excuse for an application, wondering if he was judging me for even wasting his damn time.

"You have no experience in waiting tables, taking orders or bartending?" He questions, his loud boisterous voice fills his small office and I take a moment to swallow the lump in my throat before answering.

"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't." I admit, my voice cracking in the process.

"Do you have any experience in clerical work?" He asks me. He places my application down on his desk, before raising his eyes to look up at me. I mull over his question in my head, thinking about the real reason why I was here. I needed this job, whatever it may be. I had absolutely no experience outside of cheer captain at my former high school and a camp counselor every summer for the past four years, but I knew that none of that was going to impress this man enough to land me a job in his establishment. So, I did what any respectable, inexperienced high school graduate would do.

Lie.

"Yes sir, I've worked for an accountant every summer for the past four years and learned bookkeeping as well." I say, almost immediately hating myself. I ball my hands into fists, digging the tips of my fingernails into the palms of my hands, as I inwardly roll my eyes at my answer. Why the hell did I have to say bookkeeping or accountant? I wasn't good with numbers, never have been and yet I lied to this business owner through my desperation.

Shit!

Oz nodded his head and stood from his chair.

"Follow me will you." He suggests and I immediately jumped to my feet, excited that maybe this interview was going somewhere. Well, if he didn't ask me anything pertaining to numbers that is. We reach the front of the bar, which was filled with a few day stragglers and a few men and women in business suits who were obviously here on their lunch break. Oz walked behind the bar and produced a small, round, black tray. He takes four red plastic cups and fills each one halfway with water.

"I want you to try to carry this drink tray for me. Once you make it to that table closest to the front door" he points to one of the tables that is the furthest one from where I'm currently standing. "I want you to lower your tray and then place each glass on the table, without spilling the water inside." He instructs. I look over at the small square table that held four chairs once again.

Just balance a tray of drinks and deliver them without spilling. Ok this should be easy enough.

The gnawing feeling of never having balanced a tray of drinks before causes a nervous lump in my throat. I chew on my bottom lip, wishing I could just haul ass out the front door instead of completing the challenge he'd given me, but instead I nod my head in agreement anyway. I rub the sweat from my palms on the fronts of my blue ripped jeans and pull the tray towards me, balancing it out on my left palm. I use my right hand to hold onto the side of the tray for extra measure and walk towards the front of the bar, thankful that none of the patrons seem to be interested in my fake ass waitress audition. My jeweled sandals felt like cement blocks as I place one foot in front of the other. I stop in front of the table and take a deep breath, trying to not let my nerves get the best of me.

Just lower the tray and remove the cups without spilling, I repeat to myself.

I use my body to help balance out the tray, as I remove my right hand and slowly begin to remove each glass from the tray. My hands are shaking but I manage to get the last plastic cup on the table and turn to look at Oz. He nods his head in approval and I walk back towards him with the tray tucked under my arm. Thankful that I didn't drop the tray or spill any of the water filled cups on the table.