Ladies Night by Christian Keyes Read Free Book Online Page B

and then rubbed his hands together, eager to get started. This wasn’t a major career move, but it was a start. Someone was giving him a chance, and he would seize the opportunity.
    Mr. Lam proceeded to show Amp around the store and explain his duties. On occasion Amp had difficulty understanding what Mr. Lam was saying because his accent was so heavy, but for the most part, his tasks were self-explanatory. Within ten minutes Mr. Lam put him to work, carrying boxes from the storage room, stacking shelves, and then fixing up displays. Next was cleanup duty: sweeping, mopping, and dusting. Amp hit every corner of the store, from the bathroom to the storage room to the office. Even if that dude Mr. Lam had thrown out hadn’t been fired for stealing, he should have been fired for doing a piss poor job at keeping the store up. Amp could only imagine the last time the tasks he’d done today had been performed up to par.
    When he saw that Amp was a good worker, Mr. Lam decided to train him on the cash register, allowing him to do a couple of transactions.
    After a long, hard day, a worn-out Amp said, “All right then, Mr. Lam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Mr. Lam nodded without looking up from the cash register drawer where he was counting the day’s profits.
    As Amp was stepping out the door, Mr. Lam called out to him.
    Now what? Amp thought. He’d done workouts that didn’t have his body aching as much as it was now. Just five minutes ago Mr. Lam had told him to call it a day. What else, in that short a period of time, could he have possibly thought of that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?
    â€œYes?” Amp turned to Mr. Lam, trying not to sound edgy.
    â€œGood job. Store look nice.”
    Amp left the store with a smile on his face.
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    By the time Amp walked through the front door of the house, he was about ready to collapse. He definitely could have skipped exercising today. His time at the store had been a workout in itself.
    â€œHow was your first day being employed?” Paul asked Amp as he entered the kitchen and went straight to the fridge to get a bottle of water.
    Brad, Melvin, and two other housemates were sitting at the kitchen table engaged in a game of spades.
    â€œIt was busy, but good,” Amp replied, twisting the cap off of the bottle of water and drinking some. Amp took a seat at the only vacant chair at the kitchen table. “I did twice as much work for thirty cents a day when I was inside. I can definitely handle this.” He took another swig of water.
    â€œReally? I can’t tell by the way you guzzling down that water. Looks like the store owner worked you half to death.”
    Melvin chuckled under his breath.
    Paul snapped his finger. “Oh, yeah. I wanted to tell you that your parole officer will be here tomorrow morning.”
    Amp figured that must have been what Paul wanted to talk to him about earlier. “Okay. I work from noon to nine tomorrow, so as long as he doesn’t make me late . . .” Amp stood up, drank the last of the water, and threw the empty bottle into the trash can.
    â€œRecycle bin,” Paul reminded him.
    Amp picked up the bottle and put it in the correct bin. “Any leftovers from dinner?” he asked, his grumbling stomach reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since the morning’s plums.
    Brad looked up from his hand of cards. “Yeah, but Melvin cooked, so you better bless your food.”
    â€œShut up, man. I can cook,” Melvin said, twisting up his face.
    â€œWe’ll see,” Amp said as he fixed himself a plate.
    He gobbled the baked chicken, rice, and corn on the cob. It didn’t taste half bad, though Amp barely noticed because he ate it so fast. He was starving, plus he just wanted to hurry up and finish so he could go lay down. He was so intent on making a good first impression with Mr. Lam that he hadn’t even taken a lunch break. After a hard workout and a