Spotlight 2.02

Hal sat in his chair, and after a long pause where they stared at each other—something that felt distinctly like a power play—Ava spoke first.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to work late tonight.”

Ava fought away a nose-wrinkle. Of course you do. She had expected as much.

And without even a segue into the topic. Hal hadn’t even tried to seem apologetic, or concerned whether Ava would say yes. Because he knew she couldn’t say no. Ava didn’t have a choice in the matter. Assuming she wanted to keep her job—which was a given—Ava needed to suck it up. Every time before, when something cropped up, Ava had simply … needed to find the time. Cancel plans, be a ‘team-player’.

Then, a second later, she realized what, exactly, an abrupt overtime shift would mean.

My date with Brooke.

“Why?” Ava asked, ten times more concerned than a moment prior. She was used to working late when necessary, but normally she didn’t have anything going on besides patrol. Certainly nothing as important as a date with Brooke. “What happened?”

He raised his eyebrows. Ava could read the expression: he was surprised Ava had had the audacity to ask. Because again—Ava’d never had much of a choice in the matter. If she’d been asked to work late, she did. Because fuck her plans—she was replaceable. Same for most everyone who worked here.

Which was still true. It wasn’t like it took a degree to deliver pizzas. Hal might need to spend a day, or at worst a week or two, finding a replacement, but it wouldn’t take that long, or be much work. Capital City hardly suffered from a lack of low-qualification workers.

Ava paused, realizing something.

Something she was amazed she hadn’t, yet.

Did she need this job, though?

Brooke had been right. The website launch, and tiered subscription plans, had been a wild success. Money was pouring in at an almost hard to comprehend rate. Ava had so much going on that showing up to work at Paradise Pizzeria had been a given. But now that she’d had the realization, she followed it to its natural conclusion:

She didn’t need this job anymore. Not really.

This … crappy, pain-in-the-ass, underpaying job.

With six to ten subscriptions streaming in every hour? A rate that might even increase as things hit mainstream? Ava’s financial situation was set. She’d be able to pay back Brooke’s reckless credit card loans, and still have plenty left over for rent, and other necessities.

Not quite enough—at least from what she’d seen so far—to be rich, or anything close, but compared to Ava’s barely-scraping-by? Her financial situation had improved drastically. She’d need to be careful with her money still, especially since she wanted to expand, and the profits they were making would need to go to future stunts, and better equipment, but she wasn’t drowning in financial worries.

So the question was:

Why was she still working at Paradise Pizzeria?

Routine. That was all Ava could come up with. Work was so ingrained in her habit that she’d literally not considered it.

“No,” Ava said. It might have been the first time she’d said the word to Hal, and, wow, it was liberating. “I have plans. I can’t.”

Hal, hilariously, leaned back in his chair, eyebrows creeping up higher, encroaching on his dwindling hairline. It was comical how at-a-loss he was at Ava’s lack of instant compliance. He was so used to Ava, or anyone who worked at Paradise Pizzeria, agreeing to what he asked—to keep her job—that a ‘no’ was foreign to him. He literally didn’t know how to handle it.

“I need someone to cover Tammy’s shift,” he said, giving an explanation more out of disorientation than consideration. “Apparently she broke her wrist.”

“Huh,” Ava said. “That’s rough. I hope she’s okay. But I can’t fill for her. I have plans.”

Ava had always thought Hal had been—all things considered—not the worst a boss could be. Sure, he dropped stuff like this on Ava all the time, but that was kind of his job; she only half-blamed him for it. He never really flexed his authority just to rub it in Ava’s face. Doing so, honestly, would kind of imply Hal was present enough in day-to-day operations to do so. She didn’t see him more than once or twice a day, on average, so he never had the opportunity. He did kind of come off as an asshole, and the interactions she had with him hadn’t given her a stellar opinion, but as far as things went, he wasn’t the worse she’d had.

Her flippant remarks, though, brought the truth out. His expression darkened, and he leaned forward. “Then you’ll need to cancel them, won’t you?”

Ava couldn’t say she was surprised. “Isn’t there someone else who can cover for her?” There should be several others who could take Tammy’s shift—and people who wouldn’t have to work back-to-back shifts to do so.

“There might be. But I’m asking you.” He didn’t attempt to hide the irritation in his voice. He was annoyed Ava hadn’t instantly said yes.

Which spoiled Ava’s mood. “Okay. Well. I have plans. So.” Ava similarly didn’t bother masking her irritation; she all but snapped the words.

Hal’s face darkened further. “Not if you want this job, you don’t.”

Ava was vaguely aware that her temper was rising faster than appropriate. She might not need this job, but quitting on the spot might not be the best idea. A second income would be useful, and she ought to at least talk to Brooke about it.

Her rational brain didn’t win out. “Then I guess I don’t want this job, asshole.”

Hal’s eyebrows shot up. Ava hadn’t ever said ‘no’, much less … that.

“Excuse me?”

Ava’s blood was boiling. Why, she couldn’t even say. Maybe she held more resentment for her near-minimum-wage delivery-girl job than she had thought.

She stood there, fuming, then mentally shrugged her shoulders and doubled down. She ripped off her black Paradise Pizzerie-branded cap and tossed it at Hal. It slid across his desk, dropping into his lap. “I quit. I don’t need this job. Now you have two shifts to fill.”

Then, before slamming the door on the way out, she threw one last word over her shoulder for good measure.

“Asshole.”

Fuming, she almost bumped into Jacky as she stalked out of his office.

“Christ,” Jacky said. “What happened?”

Ava blinked several times, before forcing herself to calm down. Jacky’s eyebrows were raised. Ava didn’t know how loud she’d gotten, but at a guess, Jacky had picked up the sentiment of what’d gone down. Or maybe it had been Ava’s expression. She had almost barreled into her dark-haired coworker, mad enough she hadn’t been paying attention to what was right in front of her.

“I quit,” Ava said. “Uh. Sorry about that.”

While Hal could certainly go fuck himself, leaving Jacky—and her other coworkers—short staffed was a bit of a dick move.

“You quit? Why?”

“Hal wanted me to work tonight.”

Since they’d just talked about it, Jacky picked up the context. “Your date.”

“Yeah.” Ava shrugged. “And, I dunno. I—“ Ava caught herself. She’d been about to say she didn’t need this job. But what explanation could she give Jacky for that? Ava had lamented her financial problems—and Paradise Pizzeria’s wages—several times. She knew Ava’s general situation; that she didn’t have a family to rely on. So how could Ava explain suddenly not needing employment?

Ava had frozen halfway through the sentence, so she forced her mouth to continue. “I’ve got something else in the works.” She internally cringed, because the excuse wasn’t much better than the original.

“You do? What?”

“Um. Later?” Ava needed some time to organize that lie.

“Busy storming out?” Jacky asked, amused. “That’s fair. But I’m holding you to it. Something in the works?” Then, she frowned. “Man. You were one of the tolerable parts of this job. I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone. But good for you.”

“We can hang out, some time?” Ava agreed; Jacky’s company was one of the few things she liked about her crappy job, too. Not that Ava spent too much time inside the store, being a delivery girl and not a cook or dishwasher, but the opportunities she got to hand out with Jacky were the highlights of her work day.

“Definitely.”

“And sorry for leaving you guys short staffed.”

Jacky shrugged. “Happens.” She genuinely didn’t sound bothered, though Ava knew her day would be more chaotic for it. Jacky had always been pretty low-key—hard to fuss.

“Okay. Well. Hit me up, then.”

Ava walked out of Paradise Pizzeria, hopefully for the last time.

###

“I’m back,” Ava called.

She flipped the deadbolt and kicked off her shoes. She still wore her Paradise Pizzeria uniform shirt, which she’d have to return at some point. Knowing Hal, he’d dock it from her last pay check if she didn’t. With Ava’s dramatic exit, she wouldn’t really blame him for the pettiness.

“Aves?” Brooke called back from across the apartment, in her room. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I, uh, quit,” Ava said, arriving at her doorway. Brooke was, like usual, lounged on her office chair, headphones tugged back. She had one leg up. Her shorts didn’t cover much; her long, pale legs were exposed—including most of her thighs. Ava’s eyes never had caught on her best friend’s body before—not like this—but Ava had to practically drag her attention away. Her … adventures in bed … with Brooke had ignited something in Ava. She’d always thought Brooke was gorgeous, but having literally had Brooke inside her, Ava couldn’t help but pay attention to her curves, the skin she left exposed, in a way she never had before.

“You quit?” Brooke asked, alarmed. “What happened?”

Ava organized her response. Honestly, she was embarrassed at how quickly she’d lost her temper. And while she would’ve been seriously upset if they needed to reschedule their date, it hardly would’ve been the end of the world. It wasn’t like Brooke wouldn’t understand, or think Ava had been trying to wiggle out of it.

“Well,” Ava said, plopping down on Brooke’s bed. “Hal needed me to work tonight, and was being an ass about it. I really didn’t want to miss our date … and then it kind of hit me. I don’t need my job anymore, do I?”

It was half a genuine question. Ava couldn’t come up with a reason she’d need her minimum-wage income, not with so much better on the horizon, but she wanted Brooke’s assurance regardless. Just quitting like that … it was, honestly, nerve wracking, even if she shouldn’t need the job.

“Not really,” Brooke said. “But I figured you wanted to keep it? Or something.” She shrugged. “For the extra income, and the routine.”

“No,” Ava said amusedly. “Definitely not that. It was just so ingrained I didn’t think about it.” She shook her head. “So, anyway, Hal was being an ass, and I … quit.” Ava laughed. “Not much of a story.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Upset?” Ava snorted. “Uh, no? Definitely not. It’s so …” She looked around for the right word. “Freeing. Not having to worry about money, anymore.” Or, not like they had been before; they weren’t entirely out of the woods. “It’s kind of crazy how well this worked. Plus, now I can focus on this, full-time. Both patrols, and …” What did Ava even call her website, streaming, and subscription shenanigans? “And my new job,” she laughed. “Pays a heck of a lot better, doesn’t it? And it feeds back to my superhero stuff.”

And, Ava secretly amended, I like it a lot more. Showing skin to hundreds—maybe some day thousands, tens of thousands—of strangers was something that had Ava vibrating with excitement. A bit of shame swirled around too, but that was part of the reason it was so exciting.

“Okay,” Brooke said slowly, still concerned. “I’m just making sure it’s what you wanted.”

“Are you asking if I got fired, instead of quit?” Ava asked, amused. “No, it was my choice, don’t worry.” She shrugged. “Plus, this means I get to hang out with you more.” A forty-plus hour commitment, vanished. “Honestly, what am I even going to do with all that free time?”

The opportunities were endless.

And not all her ideas were … perfectly chaste.