Destined Love

Destined Love - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

Through a throbbing hangover, the first thought that forms in my mind once I wake up curled in my bed sheets, is how I missed my very first night of work. I curse myself for being such an idiota and getting drunk last night. I knew at the time that it was a bad idea, but I went and did it anyway.

And now I've probably lost the chance of a job at the bar.

I sluggishly slide out of bed and amble my way towards the bathroom, sliding my fingers through my disheveled hair. As I strip from my clothes and jump into the shower, I hope that the bar guy gives me a second chance. I lean my back against the tiled wall, letting my tense muscles relax as the warm water runs down my skin.

Thoughts of Ariella still play around in the back of my mind, but not near as much as last night and for that I'm grateful. Alcohol may not be the best solution, but it's the only solution that works, and if I need to plaster myself each night until I'm unhealthily intoxicated to keep those thoughts at bay, then that is what I will do.

Once I've changed into my clothes and scrubbed my face, I stroll out of the bathroom with my remaining headache. However, after years of drinking, the small vibrating sensation in the back of my skull has almost become natural.

Wishing there was a window in this crappy hotel room, I grab my key and lock the door behind me.

"Yo, amigo!" I bark as I reach the front counter. "Here's the money for another two nights stay."

The manager wobbles his way through, pocketing the money in his sauce-stained shirt. He eyes me briefly before speaking.

"I don't mean to pry, but I feel I need to know what's going on with you if you're going to come back here drunk and angry."

I roll my eyes carelessly. "I told you last night, it's none of your business old man."

"It is my business if you're going to be slamming fists into my walls," he retorts.

"I've got somewhere to be. How about you quit asking me questions, and me and you won't have a problem?" I dare him with my eyes continue prying.

But all he does is nod his head and turn back around into his office. I let out a small snort and walk out of the hotel, turning left and trudging down the same path I've seemed to take every day since I've been here. When the bar comes into view, I speed up my walk until I step through the door. With a wink directed at a table of giggling woman, I find a seat at the front of the bar.

The bar tender doesn't look all too happy to see me.

"What do you want, kid?" His gruff tone breaks the silence.

I eye him inanely. "Who you callin' a kid?"

The guy shrugs. "You act like one, so you may as well be called one."

My eyes narrow at his words. "Do you wanna come over to my side of the bar and say that?"

"Instead, how about you get the hell outta my bar?" He lowers his tone.

Composing myself, I let out a huff and lean back in my chair.

"Look, I know I fucked up—I never showed up for my first night of work. But I really need this job, hombre, so just give me a second chance. I know you need another worker, and I may not be the best choice, but right now I'm your only choice."

He throws a cloth over his shoulder as he eyes me blankly. Eventually, he speaks.

"You listen here, and you listen good. I don't tolerate assholes like yourself, and if it were under different circumstances yo' would have been kicked out of my bar as soon as your foot stepped through my door." With his unrelenting tone, the girls in the corner of the bar turn silent. "But because I need another worker, and no one seems to want the spot, you're my only choice right now. As much as I already despise your egotistical ass, I am going to give you the job."