#Chapter 78: A Little Vacation
Abby
My eyes snap open to discover that someone, in the span of what feels like five minutes, my office has
grown dark. There’s a hand on my shoulder, and an all-too-familiar face—with a smirk on it, of course—
staring down at me.
“Sleepy?” Karl asks, his lips twitching into a grin.
I shake my head and sit up, trying to regain a sense of reality. The glare of the desk lamp sca tters
across stacks of invoices and order forms, casting a dim amber glow over everything.
“No,” I lie, looking away as Karl crosses the room back to the doorway. “I was just putting my head
down for a few minutes.”
A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s almost eight o’clock, and considering the fact that it’s a
Wednesday, the restaurant is already mostly quiet. Through my half-open office door, I can just barely
make out the faint sound of sc at tered voices and silverware on plates from the few customers who are
still hanging around, post-dinner rush.
Karl laughs and leans against the doorframe. “Sure. And what looks like drool on your cheek must just
be condensation or something, right?”
Drool? I swipe my cheek with the back of my hand and sure enough, it comes away wet. Great.
“Okay, you go me,” I mutter, smoothing down my messy hair. “This morning was hectic, and I didn’t
sleep too well last night…”
Karl shrugs. “Don’t sweat it,” he assures me. “In fact, you’ll be happy to know that after the health
inspector left, everything else went smoothly. No more food critics, no sick servers, no arguing
employees.”
I force a half-smile. So word really does travel fast; or rather, Karl is more attuned to the drama than I
thought. I never mentioned the sick servers and arguing employees to anyone, but someone must have
noticed.
sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Did
doorframe and saunters in again, perching on the edge
delivery
could use
my feet in an attempt to make myself
now. “I’m perfectly fine,” I lie, hoping
where
at me without answering. There’s something gentle in
I haven’t seen in a very long time. And something about it makes my knees
I cross the room in a feeble attempt to
into the dimly lit
will close soon
“You
it stops raining?” he asks. I nod, and Karl sighs. “It’s supposed to rain
you home, okay?”
another few moments at
glance at my coat h ook reveals that my umbrella is nowhere to
didn’t really do much to
finally say, turning back to face Karl. He’s got an almost triumphant look
quickly.
…
the dim, cramped space of my
smells like fresh leather and a hint
windshield as we drive. I’ve always
on a stormy night; it’s like
streets, the bright signs of late-night diners and convenience stores flashing
For a moment, the weight of my job—the
I find myself lost in
breaks the silence. “You looked like you were having
tropical drink, and a
chuckle. “More like a health inspection nightmare. I can’t seem to escape the restaurant, even
sleep.”
at me with a smirk. “Well, dreams are just unpaid labor then, aren’t they? Surely
could get compensation somehow.”
is working overtime,” I reply, my words tinged with a fatigue
red brick building with
leading to the front door. It’s surrounded by
when I first moved here, I almost walked into someone
embarrassing.
up to the curb and turns off the engine, then
you don’t need a vacation? My offer still stands. Remember the pool and the hot
the hot tub, and all
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