Chapter 81: Waitress, Washing Dishes
"Good! Now come here, give your sister kisses!"
The children laughed and ran to her.
She hugged them tightly before leaving.
Her chest felt heavy.
The neighborhood wasn’t the safest.
She became especially anxious regarding their safety after Henry disappeared.
But she couldn’t stop working and stay at home.
Someone had to bring money home.
She walked quickly toward the restaurant where she worked.
It was small but popular, always filled with people in the evenings.
"Good evening," she said as she entered the kitchen.
"Evening, Carlotta. Get the dishes ready," one of the cooks replied.
She tied her apron and went straight to the sink. The pile of dishes was already waiting.
Out of all the jobs she had, this one paid the best.
Before working in the kitchen, she used to be a waitress here.
The boss had chosen her because of her looks—blonde, blue-eyed, and striking even with her mean looking eyes.
The waitress job paid more than washing dishes, but it didn’t last.
Her sharp eyes and natural scowl didn’t go well with customers.
Even when she tried to smile, people said she looked angry.
It wasn’t her fault. That was just her face. Still, appearances mattered a lot for a job that depended on customer interactions.
Her coworkers hadn’t helped either.
Some of them had wanted her job, and they whispered about her behind her back.
Eventually, the boss started frowning every time he saw her.
So before he could fire her, Carlotta asked to move to the kitchen.
The pay was lower, but still good.
Now, she spent her evenings washing dishes, scrubbing, and stacking plates until her arms ached.
A few hours later, they got a short break.
She sat in the back room, eating the meal the restaurant gave its workers.
This meal was what made her like this job. It saved money, and the food was tasty, even if little cold.
If the boss allowed them to take the food away, she would definitely taken it to her siblings.
Some of the other staff sat nearby, chatting quietly.
"Hey, Carlotta, how’s your brother?" one of them asked.
"He’s fine," she said, smiling faintly. "Still running around like a little tornado."
They laughed, and the talk moved to other things.
Even if she knew some of them used to talk behind her back and their workplace politics was why she lost the waitress job, she didn’t act cold toward them.
Getting angry would only make things harder. It would disturb the workplace environment.
After the short break, she went back to washing dishes.
The hours passed slowly.
The noise of the kitchen never stopped. Orders being shouted, pans clattering, water running.
By the time the clock hit ten, her hands were wrinkled from the water.
She took off her apron and went to the boss’s office.
Knocking lightly, she entered.
"What is it?"
"Boss, can I get my salary early this month? There’s something I need to—"
"No. You think this is a charity? Come on wage day like everyone else. Now get out." The boss didn’t even look up.
Carlotta lowered her head. "Alright, boss. Thank you for your time."
She closed the door quietly and walked out of the restaurant.
The night air felt cold against her damp hands.
She looked down at the twenty euros she had earned from the construction job earlier.
"Should I use these for shoes?" she muttered.
That money was supposed to go toward milk and water bills tomorrow.
If she used it now, they wouldn’t have enough for the week.
"What should I do?" she whispered, her voice trembling a little.
It was the voice of a girl who was just a child.
But she had no one to ask for advice.
She was the oldest.
The one everyone depended on.
She had to decide by herself.
She looked at the money silently.
Then she put it in her pocket and started walking.
Her next job started at eleven.
There wasn’t enough time to go home, which was why she had cooked dinner early along with lunch. It would be enough for her siblings.
As for her, she ate plenty at the restaurant.
Her last job of the day was at a pub in the shady part of the city.
Even though she was underage, the owner let her work there because he used to know her late mother.
The pub was loud and smelled of alcohol.
She moved between tables, carrying drinks and cleaning up.
While she was serving, a man grabbed her wrist.
"You look bored here. Why don’t you come with me? Have a little fun," he said with a smirk.
"Sir, I’m staff here. If you’re looking for company, please go over there."
She pointed toward a corner where the other women worked.
The man chuckled.
"So uptight. Is this about money? How much do you want?"
He pulled out a few bills. Two hundred euros.
Her eyes wavered for a second before she looked away.
He noticed her look.
"I have more. Think about it," he said grinned.
Carlotta bit her lip.
She opened her mouth, but then a flash of her mother’s haggard face passed through her mind.
"No," she said firmly.
"Playing hard to get?"
He laughed and tugged on her hand.
Carlotta didn’t move.
It was as if he was trying to pull a tree.
"Sir," she said coldly, "please let go."
The man flinches at her expression.
Her mean look worked quite well with her physical strength in cases like these.
"Sheesh. Sorry." He laughed awkwardly, and let go before returning to his friends.
When work ended, the pub owner called her to the office.
His name was Marco.
He had sharp eyes and a lean build. He used to be famous in the back alleys for his fists until he opened the pub, and mellowed out.
Still, his mean eyes — the eyes that looked similar as Carlotta’s — never went away.
Carlotta bowed slightly. "I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to cause trouble."
She thought the man she shooed off must have been someone important.
He could’ve complained after she refused him.
Marco waved his hand.
"Don’t worry about that. That’s not why I called you."
He leaned back in his chair.
"How are you these days?"
"I’m fine," she said quietly.
"You’re not fine," he said, frowning. "You look worn out. Is it because of Henry?"
She looked down.
"Don’t worry too much. My people are still looking for him. We’ll find him."
"Thank you," she said.
He sighed.
"Forget Henry for now. You look like you haven’t slept properly in a week. Still working three jobs? Is money really that tight? I can help, if you want."
Carlotta shook her head. "It’s easier to keep my mind off things when I’m busy. And I don’t need help. I sleep fine, no matter how little it is. The money’s enough."
She didn’t ask for his help.
She knew what kind of person he was.
He was her mother first lover, and the one who broke her mother and made her work as in the adult industry.
Carlotta might’ve been young, but she knew what would happen if she started to ask for money form this kind of man.