Chapter 3: The Four Roses

202 2 0
                                    


"Amber!" Sammy roared from inside his office.

Clicking my jaw and rolling my eyes, I sat the glass mug I was drying down behind the bar and sighed deeply as I made my way out from behind the bar and through the busy bar over to Sammy's office. All I wanted was for this shift to come to an end so I could go get stupid drunk with Christy and forget the past couple of days. Instead of helping Amanda and Ramona clean up, here I am, leaning against the door frame of Sammy's office, watching him snort lines of cocaine off of a small glass mirror placed carefully on his desk.

Christy had spent basically the whole night clinging to Joe, not doing any work besides getting up to get Joe and the other 9 men more beer or more shots throughout the night. I wasn't pissed off though, her lack of caring about the other customers only made me even more busier which in the long run, I ended up making most of the tips since Ramona was the bartender tonight and Amanda is the waitress when my shift ends in fifteen minutes. But, since Christy's been doing nothing except fucking around, Amanda has been helping me.

"Yes?" I asked in annoyance.

Sammy snorted hard, tilting his head back and sighing in relief before looking over at me, staring me up and down, a sly smirk forming across his lips as he slowly nodded. I've never had a boss snort cocaine in his office in front of one of his employees before. But given the fact that the bar itself was located in inner city Boston, a rougher, poorer part of the city... it was something I guess I should have expected. Christy had already gave me the heads up about the neighborhood and how dangerous it apparently really was and to make sure all of the locks on the door to our apartment were always locked at all times and that I wasn't out of the balcony late at night, since we were on the first floor, at least not without a weapon or without somebody with me.

"Have a seat," He insisted, pointing at the chair in front of his desk.

Reluctantly, I stood tall and walked over to the chair, plopping down and folding my arms over my chest. Sammy tapped out a small amount of cocaine from a little clear baggy onto the mirror and held up a rolled dollar bill that he had been using as a straw to snort his cocaine with.

"Want a line?" He asked, staring up at me with bloodshot eyes.

I shook my head, "No thanks... I have to get back out there and help Amanda..."

"You sure? Christy tells me you've been through quite the shit the past couple of days. Do a line or two, escape Baby." He trailed off before snorting another line off the glass mirror.

Lovely, Christy told this fuck about my past...

Sammy sat back up in his seat using his thumb to wipe away any powder around his nostrils as he sniffled a little, "Ramona tells me that the tip jar is pretty full tonight. Don't be sad, that's a good start for you."

"Kind of hard to be sad about anything when you're too busy being a fucking champion," I stated snidely referring to the fact that I made a shit load of tips tonight.

"Yeah? well let me tell you how it works around here... new comers don't get tips." Sammy stated a matter of fact like.

I scoffed, "What the fuck do you mean?"

"It's how I do business. Don't like it? get the fuck outta here. Too bad you have no choice but to deal with it, huh?" Sammy taunted wheeling his computer chair over to the wall where a pin-up girl calendar hung.

"You see this? Do you see it?" He asked pointing at the the calendar.

"Yes...?" I asked in confusion and slight annoyance dripping from my tone.

Bad CompanyWhere stories live. Discover now