Sweet Rush

Eleven

Just as Jane had said, there was a key in my locker when I got in. I hesitantly inch my hand towards the key hanging on a New York key chain, pick it up and place it into my pocket. I decide to head to the office first thing to see if there's anything I can get out of the way before I start actually doing the job that I was hired to do. 

I can't believe that he'd ask me to do this. Shouldn't he have some kind of personal assistant to do this? 

I mean, there was always someone in charge of office duties while Senior Pritchard was away however that was Delilah and she stopped working a few months ago. She moved to Chicago to dance; that's what the streets are saying. 

I open the door to the office and make my way to the desk. There lying is a notepad with a list of things. The penmanship of the note almost gives me a stroke. If this is the way Jane writes, I have no confidence in him as a man. My baby cousin who's seven writes way better than him. I take the time to pick up the list and go through. At the top of the list is a phone number and I instantly know that it is Jane's. If this was a few weeks ago, I'd be drooling at the thought of having Jane's number exposed to me. Now that we're here and know what we know- I'm not too stoked about this. I'll try my hardest not to give him a call. 

Below the poorly written digits are a list of five things. 

Contact AC company to fix heater in office (heater hasn't been working well. They would bill our business don't worry about paying them fyi)

Janitor's closet needs to be restocked (supplies are located in the back of office) 

Office supplies need to be picked up from Staples (call me for details on this)

I roll my eyes as soon as I come across that sentence knowing well that he strategically made it this way so I can call him. I'm unsure of whether he purposely did this just to talk to me but I'm sure he knows I'm not the type of person to call if I could figure these things out on my own. 

Put new labels on  two vacant lockers  (they're in the drawer) 

Organize the office supplies from staples

call me if you need anything

The brief list comes to an end but it seems like I'll be taking a lot more than 15 minutes for each task. I have questions. 

I know what I need to do in order to get those questions answered; I dread it. 

I leave the list alone and decide to complete two hours of working in the bar then return to the list. I guess I can start with the labels for the lockers, but I'm way too far to return to the office for some labels. I'll get to it when I get to it. 

The bar is semi-packed, it's not the weekend so it's slower than usual. As slow as it can get being the most popular place in the city. I feel my phone buzz in the back of my jeans while fetching a bottle of vodka to prepare a cocktail. I rest the bottle carefully on the counter before slipping the phone from out of my pocket. My mom's contact name plasters the top of my screen and my skeleton almost walks out of my flesh. She's never really given me a call at this time in the day. It's about half past 4 which is the same for her in South Carolina but it's strange. She always calls me earlier in the day since that's what I requested as I do work afternoons and over nights at the bar. A panic instantly builds; what if she needs an emergency? 

I'm sure this could probably be a mistake on her part or maybe she has some exciting news but I don't know....

I need to call her. 

I go to the quietest place I know. The office. 

Thank heavens that I'm on this duty at this particular time or I would've had to head out to the streets of New York just to give her a call back. We all know New York and quiet shouldn't be in the same sentence. The music from the lounge and bar area bleeds into the washroom and lunch rooms so the office is the best bet. I think it's sound proof.