A beautiful storm *COMPLETE*

Celebrations

The next week was filled with plenty of work. Between interviews and bartending, I was exhausted. I almost looked forward to having a Friday night off. Even if it meant celebrating my birthday. I sat at the bar looking over our most recent application. The guy's name was Peter. Ever since that dreadful night, I’ve tried to avoid any and all mentions of the name. I never reported him. If it meant that I had to return home for any reason, it wasn’t worth my time. I’d gone to therapy over the years. She had encouraged me to file a report, but I could never bring myself to do it. It was easier this way. I could live my life free of those two. I didn’t even know if my mother was still alive. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was content with my new life. Now that I’m on my own, I knew that she was narcissistic and selfish. I don’t have a child to worry about, but I have a normal job and despite what has happened to me, I’ve never once considered turning to drugs to drown out my demons. I’d never go down that road. I returned my eyes to the application in front of me. I knew it was wrong, but I put his application in the not gonna work pile. I’d narrowed it down to three people. One guy and two girls. All three had experience working in a bar, but the guy seemed like the best choice. I ran my thoughts by Gemma and she agreed. We decided to call Damien and offer him the job. He accepted and starts training in a few days.

Tomorrow, Gemma and I are going out for my birthday. She wants to go do a little shopping today. We’re going to have dinner and then go to another bar on the beach to celebrate. We were rummaging through clothes at the mall, trying to choose outfits for our celebration. “Girl, don’t be such a prude. You need to show a little more skin!” She huffed. I looked in the mirror at myself and then back at her. “Do you want my n*****s to be showing?” I gasped. “Uhm, nearly, yes.” she laughed, but looked dead serious. I widened my eyes at her. I was wearing high wasted, tight, black skinny jeans with tears from top to bottom. My top was black and cropped, with a ruched bodice and off the shoulder sleeves. I was showing off a lot of skin. “I think I saw the perfect thing, be right back!” She rushed out before I could protest. I looked in the mirror. I kind of loved this outfit. It was cute and gave me a little bit of a bad as* edge. I think I plan to buy this one anyways. In no time, Gemma was rushing back in, shutting the door behind her. “This would look hot af on you.” she quipped. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the dress from her and shooing her out of the dressing room. I squeezed into the dress. She definitely grabbed a size too small. Rolling my eyes, I shimmied it down. The dress barely covered my as*. I looked in the mirror, covering my mouth with my hands. This dress left little to imagination. I opened the door to the dressing room. Gemma started jumping up and down. “That’s it. You have to wear that dress!” she shrieked. “Are you sure? I don’t know if I could even dance in this without giving everyone a show.” She tilted her head “Isn’t that the point? You're young, hot, and way too single. I’d bang you.” she winked. I groaned “Fine, but the only person I’m taking home tomorrow night is you.” She just clapped her hands and shooed me back into the dressing room to get undressed. I bought both the dress and the outfit that I had picked out. I generally don’t purchase new items for myself, but I felt like a million bucks in it.