proof of Pinkwater’s bah-humbug, don’t-bother-me nature. While he busied himself with some papers, she snatched a Kleenex from a box on the desk and wiped off the cushion before settling onto it.
Gabby glanced at the clock on the wall above Mr. Pinkwater’s shiny head and realized that her sister was probably applying for the hostess job that very moment. Hopefully she’d get it—if she had even remembered to show up, of course. Gabby closed her eyes and sent out a cosmic plea that Daphne wasn’t doing anything stupid during the interview, like smacking gum or texting her latest guy obsession.
Pleasedon’t let her start doing cheers when they ask about her experience
, she urged the forces of the universe.
Then again, knowing the way things were, probably all Daphne had to do was smile and bounce and she’d get the job.
Eventually Pinkwater finished messing with his files and looked up at Gabby. “Now then,” he said, his chair letting out a crackling sound as he leaned forward. “What’s so important that you are leaving the theater short-staffed for almost five minutes?”
Gabby bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from pointing out that
he
had kept
her
waiting.
“I was wondering … since I’ve worked here for a few years now … and I think I do a pretty good job … would it be possible for me to get …” She met his eyes—two glints of blue ice amid all that saggy flesh—and swallowed hard. “… a small raise?”
Mr. Pinkwater started shaking his head the second she stopped talking. “No, no. That’s just not possible.”
She’d been expecting this answer, but it still bothered her that he couldn’t even pretend to think it over. “Why not?”
His brows rose, lifting mounds of skin so that his upper lashes were actually visible, and the craggy slits of his eyes regarded her for a long moment. Obviously no one had ever questioned him like this before. Gabby started to panic, worried that he might get angry enough to fire her. Then she’d really have failed her mom.
“It’s my policy,” he replied. “Yes, you’ve worked here a good while—longer than most. And yes, you do good work. But you’ll be going off to college in less than a year, right?”
“Well … yes. I mean, I hope so.”
“You see? I lose most of my teenaged employees after three years, tops. I’ve got to save raises for the people who stick around. People with families.”
“But I’m trying to help my family.”
“Yes, yes. I know cell phone bills can be big. But there’s nothing I can do. Maybe if you young people spend less time texting, you’ll find yourself with more money. You should learn that before you go off to college.”
“But that’s not … I don’t …” Gabby pursed her lips and inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to cool the inferno raging inside her.
It was the stupidest of reasons. She was being denied a raise because she was smart and determined enough to go to college? Because Pinkwater thought all teens were irresponsible? She wanted to help with food and rent, not waste money on expensive clothes or the latest gaming system!
Only now it was too late. Mr. Pinkwater was already back on his feet and trundling toward the door. Judging by the steep curve of his frown, there would be no further explanation or second thoughts. She knew she’d already pushed things as far as she could with him.
“Thank you, sir. For … listening,” she said as she stepped back into the glare of the lobby.
He waved away her words with a big mottled claw of a hand. “Yes, yes. Get back to work now,” he said before shutting the door.
Gabby clenched her teeth and fists. Creepy old velociraptor! Normally she respected Mr. Pinkwater. He wasn’t exactlylikeable, but at least he wasn’t calling her sugar and making chitchat about the football team like all the other shopkeepers in town. Right now, though, she wanted to string him up by his scaly hide and hang him
Gabby glanced at the clock on the wall above Mr. Pinkwater’s shiny head and realized that her sister was probably applying for the hostess job that very moment. Hopefully she’d get it—if she had even remembered to show up, of course. Gabby closed her eyes and sent out a cosmic plea that Daphne wasn’t doing anything stupid during the interview, like smacking gum or texting her latest guy obsession.
Pleasedon’t let her start doing cheers when they ask about her experience
, she urged the forces of the universe.
Then again, knowing the way things were, probably all Daphne had to do was smile and bounce and she’d get the job.
Eventually Pinkwater finished messing with his files and looked up at Gabby. “Now then,” he said, his chair letting out a crackling sound as he leaned forward. “What’s so important that you are leaving the theater short-staffed for almost five minutes?”
Gabby bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from pointing out that
he
had kept
her
waiting.
“I was wondering … since I’ve worked here for a few years now … and I think I do a pretty good job … would it be possible for me to get …” She met his eyes—two glints of blue ice amid all that saggy flesh—and swallowed hard. “… a small raise?”
Mr. Pinkwater started shaking his head the second she stopped talking. “No, no. That’s just not possible.”
She’d been expecting this answer, but it still bothered her that he couldn’t even pretend to think it over. “Why not?”
His brows rose, lifting mounds of skin so that his upper lashes were actually visible, and the craggy slits of his eyes regarded her for a long moment. Obviously no one had ever questioned him like this before. Gabby started to panic, worried that he might get angry enough to fire her. Then she’d really have failed her mom.
“It’s my policy,” he replied. “Yes, you’ve worked here a good while—longer than most. And yes, you do good work. But you’ll be going off to college in less than a year, right?”
“Well … yes. I mean, I hope so.”
“You see? I lose most of my teenaged employees after three years, tops. I’ve got to save raises for the people who stick around. People with families.”
“But I’m trying to help my family.”
“Yes, yes. I know cell phone bills can be big. But there’s nothing I can do. Maybe if you young people spend less time texting, you’ll find yourself with more money. You should learn that before you go off to college.”
“But that’s not … I don’t …” Gabby pursed her lips and inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to cool the inferno raging inside her.
It was the stupidest of reasons. She was being denied a raise because she was smart and determined enough to go to college? Because Pinkwater thought all teens were irresponsible? She wanted to help with food and rent, not waste money on expensive clothes or the latest gaming system!
Only now it was too late. Mr. Pinkwater was already back on his feet and trundling toward the door. Judging by the steep curve of his frown, there would be no further explanation or second thoughts. She knew she’d already pushed things as far as she could with him.
“Thank you, sir. For … listening,” she said as she stepped back into the glare of the lobby.
He waved away her words with a big mottled claw of a hand. “Yes, yes. Get back to work now,” he said before shutting the door.
Gabby clenched her teeth and fists. Creepy old velociraptor! Normally she respected Mr. Pinkwater. He wasn’t exactlylikeable, but at least he wasn’t calling her sugar and making chitchat about the football team like all the other shopkeepers in town. Right now, though, she wanted to string him up by his scaly hide and hang him
Similar Books
