The CEO's Ex-Wife

Chapter 3

The next morning I got up and dressed before the sun. I chose a long sleeve shirt and pants, neat but not too dressy, and they cover my tender bruises. I crept down the stairs to packed myself some sandwiches and several bottles of water. I didn’t start work until 8 am but I aimed to leave the house before I could bump into Mom. I’m not usually so cowardly, but I really don’t want to deal with drama first thing in the morning. It’s much easier to think fully caffeinated with a full stomach.

Yesterday, before the dinner disaster, I’d walked around town looking for help wanted signs. I’d spoken to a few people about potential openings and had three impromptu interviews. One at a diner, one at a bar, and one at the grocery store.

By lunchtime, I’d accepted the offer at the Eisen Diner. Kind of seedy, the seating and laminated table tops were old and worn, but everything was clean, the staff was friendly, and the food was decent and cheap. I used to come here occasionally as a teen. Between the online college classes, high school, and helping at home, I sometimes needed somewhere quiet, someplace that was not my house, to get a bit of work done without distraction. I’d pick a small booth, spread out my books, and eat something that someone else had cooked. It wasn’t a cool hang-out spot for teens, so no one bothered me at the diner.

Tips were unsteady pay, but I could start immediately and eat for free. It was for Maria, the owner, though that I took the job. She was one of those no-nonsense people that managed to put you instantly at ease and keep you in line simultaneously. She gave off the aura of everyone’s favorite aunt, chatty, down to earth, and most importantly genuine. I could use a little of that right now.

Maria spent about 5 minutes this morning telling me how they work, then she pointed out my tables and tossed me to the hungry breakfast crowd. I picked it up quickly. I’d worked as a bartender in college, this wasn’t much different. Be observant, work fast, smile a lot, that kind of thing. Actually, waitressing required many of the skills I mastered for business; active listening, positivity, problem-solving, effective communication, and patience. Lots of patience.

As the new face in town, working a diner frequented by locals, everyone wants to know who I am. By shift’s end, the old lady network will have informed the whole town I am back, broke, and working at the diner.

Tina’s grandmother came in for lunch with a few of her neighbors I recognized from years ago. Tina had been my closest friend at school, more like a sister. We drifted apart after my wedding. At the time I thought we’d both just gotten busy and headed in different directions. Now, I realize I abandoned that friendship. Like my family, she probably thinks I was seduced by my husband’s wealth and power. I set her aside for what I thought was love. Tina’s grandma, who I’d always called Grandma too, assured me that Tina missed me and would love to see me.

“I’m not sure about that. She’s probably mad at me,” I replied.

“She was hurt, Ayla, but your friendship is worth the effort. Talk to her. She’ll accept you just the way you are.” She said, gently patting my hand.

At 3 pm I clocked out. My feet sore, my body exhausted, my brain mush, but still, it feels amazing to be working. A crucial step toward independence.

“You were great with them,” Maria said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“Tomorrow come in 8- 4pm. After we’re done with the breakfast crowd, I should have time to teach you the register before the lunch crowd gets too crazy. I’d be good to have another backup.”

“Thanks so much for this chance.” I mean it. Without a job, I’d owe my mom. As it is I feel indebted to her and I hate owing anyone. I want to prove to them that I don’t need him or his money. Plus it's nice to be trusted with the register already.

“I remember you.” Maria says suddenly, “you were always so much more mature than your age.”

An overwhelming desire to hug her and cry flooded me. Thankfully, I reigned that in. When did I become such a basket case? I smile and thank her for the job, the trust, and the food.

I dragged my aching feet out the door and started the walk to my mom’s house, laden with a couple of chopped steaks and veggiesfrom the diner. My ribs throb. I pause to lift my shirt to look. Ugly mottled yellow and purple bruises cover my side. It's only a half-hour walk and it's daylight. I suck it up. Yet, I felt my senses widen, my skin tingle. Something feels wrong. I can sense someone watching me. Slowly I turned, expecting my eyes to spy a dog or a bird, but nothing was there. Nothing but a lingering feeling.

I breathed deeper, smelling the air. My ears perk with greater intensity. My vision sharpens. I feel like a taut rubber band about to snap. The afternoon sun coupled with the anxiety of what might be waiting at home, obviously I am going a little crazy. I glance around once more, still nothing. Shaking my paranoia from my head I continue on my way.

Time to talk to Mom.