Behind My Sister's Back

Chapter 9: Sneaky

-- Dennis's POV --

              

                I walked back towards the shop where Lisa had gone into. There she was, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes at a baffled man walking by. Then she saw me and frowned.

                “Where were you?” she screeched, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at me. “It’s been almost ten minutes, Denny-Wenny.”

                “Don’t call me that,” I hissed, my cheeks flaming. She smirked.

                “Seriously, where were you?”                      

                “It doesn’t matter,” I said, sighing. “Let’s go.”

                I offered her my arm and she gripped it eagerly. We walked back to the restaurant where Lisa hurried off to join her ‘friend’ Violet.

                “Get to work!” I barked when a few people hesitated. They instantly got back to whatever they were doing.

                I watched Lisa work where Ali used to work. Ali was a much better cook but someone had to fill the position and Lisa clearly wanted it. I walked around the room, supervising them.

                “Tie your hair back,” I muttered in Lisa’s ears.

                “Do I have to?” she whined, but nevertheless grabbed a bobble and tied her hair back. When she thought my back was turned, she reached into her pocket and applied a little more make-up. She already looked like a clown.

                Ali never wore make-up. But that was okay. She was naturally pretty.

                Wait – what?

                No. Ali’s not pretty. She’s – well she’s nothing.

                She’s certainly nothing like her sister. Except maybe the temper. They both have bad temper.

                I sighed. Why was I always thinking about Ali? Why was I never thinking about Lisa?

                Because you hate her, a little voice whispered in my mind. It was true; I loathed her. She was a slut and the only reason I kissed her was to make Ali jealous. If only I could say that to Ali – maybe she would come back then.

                And then I had a stroke of genius. I could tell that to Ali... just not directly.

                “Gina?”

                “Yes?” came Gina’s bitter voice as I approached her. She had been nothing but bitter towards since I had fired Ali but she couldn’t disobey orders, right?

                “I’d like you to send Ali a message.”

                “Pardon?” she said, puzzled.

                “Take out your phone,” I ordered patiently.

                “I don’t have my phone,” she shot back.

                “Unload your pockets.”

                “No.”