Page 27 of A Cup of Autumn
“She needs me. That’s why I can come and go as I please. Work when I want to and blow off shifts when I choose. I’ve got this position locked down.”
Raine’s muscles tensed, tightening into small cannon balls she wanted to fire at Heather.
Strike that, she wanted to fire Heather.
“Nope. Raine can’t hire anyone else. Each time she makes an appointment to interview someone, I call them back and say position’s been filled.” Heather snickered. “Like I said. Locked down. Solid. Indispensable.”
Raine’s blood pressure spiraled into the red zone. So did her temper. Desperation had put her in this place, but she’d never thought Heather would take advantage of Raine this way.
“Now, I need to figure out how to get a raise.”
Raine’s hands balled. She considered herself a relatively calm person, more go-with-the-flow than in someone’s face. But her blood boiled. She was ready to erupt like Mount Saint Helens.
She pushed open the door. “Hang up the phone. Now.”
“Gotta go.” Heather’s words ran together. She disconnected from the call and smiled. The plastic grin would have looked phony on a doll. “Hey. I didn’t think you were going to be in until eight.”
“It’s after eight.”
Heather blushed. Not unexpected given the circumstances, but the woman, who was in her mid-twenties, should have known she would get caught eventually.
“Guess I should get out front.” Heather took a step toward the door.
Raine blocked her. “You’re fired.”
Heather’s jaw dropped. “Say what?”
“You’re fired.” Repeating the words didn’t lessen the knots in Raine’s shoulders. Breathing, however, came easier. “Get your things and clock out. You’ll get your final check next Friday.”
“B-b-but… I had to take that call. It was important.”
“I hope so because it’s the last you’ll ever take here.”
Heather scoffed. “You can’t fire me. You can’t run this place without me.”
“I’ve been running it without you, and now that I know you’re the reason no one’s showed up for their interviews, I have a feeling I won’t be alone much longer.”
As if on cue, crocodile tears shot from Heather’s eyes. They streamed down her face in black mascara-tinged streaks. “Please don’t fire me. I need this job.”
No apology. Just how this affected Heather.
Raine’s final breakup with Emmett had been that way, as if she weren’t a participant in the conversation—or their relationship. His wants and needs had been the only topic.
Raine raised her chin. “You should have thought about that before you chose to play games. Don’t use me as a reference unless you want me to tell them the truth.”
She wanted to say more, but she held back. Heather hadn’t acted like an adult. Raine wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“Get your things, clock out, and leave.” Raine kept her voice steady and professional. “If you won’t, I’ll call the sheriff.”
Heather sneered, her face squishing up like a cartoon villain. “You wouldn’t.”
Raine stared down her nose. She didn’t blink. “Try me.”
Heather stood there as if considering it. Then, she huffed and went to the employee lockers to remove her jacket and purse.
Raine watched Heather’s every move. She’d forgotten something. “Take off your apron.”
Heather nearly ripped off the waist ties, pulled the apron’s neck strap over her head, wadded the fabric into a ball, and threw it against the floor.
