Dating Can Be Deadly. Wendy Roberts, LCSW
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“Still, what about my social life?” I drank from the hot coffee and felt my armor crumpling. This was my social life.
“I’ll loan you fifty bucks until payday, Tab,” Jen offered generously.
“Come with me tonight and I’ll get Harold to hire you,” Lara announced, as if it were all settled. “A few nights a week and you’ll quickly have your car repairs paid for.”
After a little more coffee and lots more cajoling, Lara convinced me. I called in to report my stolen Visa and then we headed out to the movie theatre where I was introduced to Harold Wembly. He was a beanpole young man with acne-scarred skin and the manager of the Movie Megaplex.
“So you want a career as a Megaplex counter assistant?” his eyes gleamed with power.
“Um, well sure, I guess.” I turned and raised my eyebrows at Lara.
“You’re in luck.” He clapped his hands. “You can start tonight. Joan called in sick and Lara here can show you the ropes. After tonight you’ll work from Wednesday to Saturday, six-thirty ’til midnight.”
“F-four nights a week?” I stuttered. “I was thinking maybe two.”
“Bus,” Lara hissed in my ear. “Do it his way and you’ll get your car back before the November downpours start.”
I sighed. “That’ll be fine.”
Harold tossed me a yellow button-down Henley shirt that had Megaplex embroidered in green over the pocket and popcorn-butter stains on the cuffs.
It was still half an hour before the theater would open so Lara took me to the staff room and introduced me to the two other girls who’d be dishing up popcorn with us. Then she brought me down to the huge counter and familiarized me with movie munchie etiquette.
“There are three basic sizes—jumbo, enormous and colossal.” She pointed to the three-dimensional poster on the wall.
“You mean small, medium and large.”
Lara covered my mouth with her hand and slid her gaze to the left and right. “Don’t ever let Harold hear you refer to the sizes that way, or you’ll be fired on the spot.”
Oh, boy.
“The drinks are the same sizes and you need to fill the cups half with ice before pouring in the pop.” She opened a refrigerator beneath the counter. “Bottled water is kept here.”
“What if they want regular water, from a tap?”
Lara shook her head. “Strictly forbidden. There’s a firing squad outside waiting to shoot the first person who offers free water.”
I almost thought she was kidding.
A few minutes later, after I solemnly swore to never ever touch the popcorn maker, Lara pronounced me ready to serve.
“This isn’t so bad,” I said. “Other than the fact that I’m a fashion nightmare.” Looking down at the running shoes Lara had loaned me, I adjusted the black skirt I’d worn to the office that day and tugged a strand of my wispy brown hair out of my eyes.
Obviously I’d spoken too soon because less than two hours later I was run off my feet and had a river of perspiration flowing between my breasts.
“Great. You survived the first half,” Lara said, smiling and wiping at drink spills on the counter. “Other than the time you nearly dumped a tray of drinks on that asshole who grabbed your boob.”
I groaned and pressed a hand to my lower back. “How much longer?”
“Those were the early moviegoers,” Lara stated, pushing her glasses back on her nose and blowing her black hair out of her eyes. “Thursdays can get pretty busy. The next wave will start in about twenty minutes.”
“The next wave?” I replied weakly.
“We can take a break now, if you’d like.”
The second wave wasn’t a wave; it was a tidal storm.
Huge lineups formed in front of each of the four cashiers but my lineup was continuously longer than all the rest. Not only was I slower at serving than the others, but I was also working the register nearest the ticket counter. I was tired. Exhausted. My mind was in a complete daze and my contact lenses were beginning to fuse permanently to my corneas. But suddenly, things came back into focus, or rather, someone. Oh, no!
I whirled to fill an order and met up with Lara at the popcorn. “You gotta switch lines with me!” I hissed.
“No way. The new girl always gets the first register.”
“But Clay Sanderson’s in my line! He’s one of the partners at the law firm. I don’t want him to see me!”
Lara glanced over her shoulder. “Which one is he?”
I continued to scoop popcorn into an already overflowing jumbo-size container. “Golden hair, body like a Greek god, has on a brown leather jacket and there’s a blonde, a model-type, hanging off his arm,” I whispered.
Lara looked again. “He’s gorgeous! Sure, I’ll wait on him.” She undid the top button on her shirt. “But after he’s gone, we switch back.”
Lara hustled up to my line that was easily double the length of hers and I scrambled over to the next cash register trying to keep my gaze away from Clay Sanderson in case he spotted me. No chance of that, though; he only had eyes for the blonde in the stiletto heels.
A few minutes later I glanced over and couldn’t see Clay in Lara’s lineup. I figured he’d already gone, so I was preparing to switch back when I noticed Lara had a weird look on her face and was nodding sideways in my direction.
“I’ll have two medium Cokes and a large popcorn,” a deep baritone voice sounded in front of me.
I turned my head and looked straight into Clay Sanderson’s azure eyes. I guess being a partner in a law firm meant you had enough brains to switch to the snack lineup that had less of a crowd.
I swallowed thickly. “You mean two enormous drinks and a colossal popcorn?” I asked, offering up a tentative smile.
The corners of his mouth twitched into a lopsided grin. “Sure.”
I quickly headed to the drink dispenser. Maybe he didn’t recognize me? Sure we saw each other every day, when he walked into the office, but I did have a forgettable face. Not like his blond girlfriend.
Returning to the counter with his order, I rang up the total. I offered two dollars in change to him and he reached across and held my hand while he took the bills and stated, “Your secret is safe with me.”
When I looked at my hand I expected melted flesh where he’d touched me. Then he leaned in, and for a split second