Mafia Fluff, Chapter 1
Mitz jabbed at the elevator button and waited for the prehistoric lift to rattle its way up to the fifth floor. With a groan, the doors opened and she stomped over to her apartment and fumbled for her key. As usual, it was lost somewhere in the depths of her purse. She contemplated banging her head against the door but hesitated.
“She probably-“ Mitz twisted the doorknob and sure enough, the door swung inward.
“Cameron!”
The girl poked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “Yes?”
“You left the door unlocked again.”
“Oh, sorry! Aden’s coming to pick me up in half an hour and I-“
Mitz waved her hand dismissively. “I know, I know, you got too excited and forgot.” Mitz slumped onto the couch and managed a smirk in her roommate’s direction. “I suppose brushing your teeth takes precedence when you’re going to spend the next few hours sucking face.”
Cameron turned bright red and stammered. “He’s…I-I’m not…we’re going out to dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
Cameron shut the door to the bathroom and Mitz listened as the water in the sink ran. A couple minutes later, Cameron settled down on the couch beside Mitz. “You’re home early.”
“I lost my job.”
“You what?!”
Mitz opened one eye. “You heard me. Sacked.”
“But…you’ve worked at that bookstore for…for…”
“Six years, four months, and three days. Trust me, I reminded that witch. She didn’t seem to care anything about loyalty. Obviously.”
Old man Hughes owned a used bookstore downtown. He’d run the thing ever since he’d dropped out of college some seventy years ago. Mitz had been a regular customer in high school. After her dad’s death, she took refuge in the shelves of dusty tomes. Mr. Hughes had taken a liking to her, and they became fast friends.
When money became scarce at home and Mitz spent more time browsing and less time buying, Mr. Hughes had offered her a job there. He claimed that he was getting to old to do all the work himself (which he certainly was), and he offered her a full-time position.
She hadn’t gone to college after high school. Public school had been a miserable experience (especially for a girl with frizzy hair, braces, no father, and an eccentric mother), and she wanted to distance herself as much as possible from the institution of education.
She’d gotten an apartment with her best friend Cameron (a student at some fancy-pants art institute), and with the rent split in half and the small salary from the bookstore, Mitz managed.
Mr. Hughes had passed away a month and a half ago, and his daughter, being the greedy thing that she was, determined to liquidate the inventory in the store and rent the space to another business. Disregarding, of course, that her father had invested everything he had into keeping that store alive. She herself hadn’t set foot inside the building for nearly thirty years, and thought books were old-fashioned, useless, and a waste of time and money.
Mitz had tried to explain that the property was paid for, that she herself had been running the business and managing the accounts for the past year and a half (since Mr. Hughes had taken ill and only been able to visit once a week, and for short periods at that), and that if left alone, she would contribute all of the store’s profits (minus her own living expenses) to the Hughes’ estate.
Somehow, the crochety woman had taken offense to that, and told Mitz that her services were no longer required, and to leave the premises within the hour.
It was a hard loss, to say the least.
“So I guess I’ll start job hunting, starting tomorrow.”
Cameron nodded. She reached over and gave Mitz a hug. “It’ll all turn out fine.”
Mitz shrugged. She highly doubted it.
“She probably-“ Mitz twisted the doorknob and sure enough, the door swung inward.
“Cameron!”
The girl poked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “Yes?”
“You left the door unlocked again.”
“Oh, sorry! Aden’s coming to pick me up in half an hour and I-“
Mitz waved her hand dismissively. “I know, I know, you got too excited and forgot.” Mitz slumped onto the couch and managed a smirk in her roommate’s direction. “I suppose brushing your teeth takes precedence when you’re going to spend the next few hours sucking face.”
Cameron turned bright red and stammered. “He’s…I-I’m not…we’re going out to dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
Cameron shut the door to the bathroom and Mitz listened as the water in the sink ran. A couple minutes later, Cameron settled down on the couch beside Mitz. “You’re home early.”
“I lost my job.”
“You what?!”
Mitz opened one eye. “You heard me. Sacked.”
“But…you’ve worked at that bookstore for…for…”
“Six years, four months, and three days. Trust me, I reminded that witch. She didn’t seem to care anything about loyalty. Obviously.”
Old man Hughes owned a used bookstore downtown. He’d run the thing ever since he’d dropped out of college some seventy years ago. Mitz had been a regular customer in high school. After her dad’s death, she took refuge in the shelves of dusty tomes. Mr. Hughes had taken a liking to her, and they became fast friends.
When money became scarce at home and Mitz spent more time browsing and less time buying, Mr. Hughes had offered her a job there. He claimed that he was getting to old to do all the work himself (which he certainly was), and he offered her a full-time position.
She hadn’t gone to college after high school. Public school had been a miserable experience (especially for a girl with frizzy hair, braces, no father, and an eccentric mother), and she wanted to distance herself as much as possible from the institution of education.
She’d gotten an apartment with her best friend Cameron (a student at some fancy-pants art institute), and with the rent split in half and the small salary from the bookstore, Mitz managed.
Mr. Hughes had passed away a month and a half ago, and his daughter, being the greedy thing that she was, determined to liquidate the inventory in the store and rent the space to another business. Disregarding, of course, that her father had invested everything he had into keeping that store alive. She herself hadn’t set foot inside the building for nearly thirty years, and thought books were old-fashioned, useless, and a waste of time and money.
Mitz had tried to explain that the property was paid for, that she herself had been running the business and managing the accounts for the past year and a half (since Mr. Hughes had taken ill and only been able to visit once a week, and for short periods at that), and that if left alone, she would contribute all of the store’s profits (minus her own living expenses) to the Hughes’ estate.
Somehow, the crochety woman had taken offense to that, and told Mitz that her services were no longer required, and to leave the premises within the hour.
It was a hard loss, to say the least.
“So I guess I’ll start job hunting, starting tomorrow.”
Cameron nodded. She reached over and gave Mitz a hug. “It’ll all turn out fine.”
Mitz shrugged. She highly doubted it.