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I had managed to escape a long evening at Lure's without exchanging any further pleasantries with Johnny, who looked as if he wanted to murder me more and more by the second. What the hell did I do? I was beginning to dread going into work the following morning and facing his managerial wrath.
The day following our raucous outing came, and using the term 'hungover' to describe how I felt would be like describing laying on a bed of rusted nails as 'soft as a feather, 10/10 would recommend.'
I have no idea why I volunteered to work today. Hell, why did any of us think it would be a good idea to drink as much as we did the night before... it will be a sheer miracle if we all make it to work alive.
Dylan was already there with coffee, bless him. Jess arrived shortly after me, somehow still looking fresh-as-a-daisy even after a night of vomit-inducing alcohol consumption. Johnny had yet to be seen at quarter-til our opening time.
We all exchanged—grumbled—our pained pleasantries and attempted a few random housekeeping tasks until Johnny graced us with his presence for our morning meeting just about ten minutes before opening for the day.
He called us into the workroom, and Jess saddled up next to me, leaning against my desk, snaking her arm around my waist. I guess she thought no one would notice, but Johnny definitely did. I felt his eyes burning into me before he began speaking, but when I looked up, he averted his gaze immediately.
