The clamor of her ringing cell phone earned a groan from the hungover blonde. With a swipe of a hand, the device sailed to the floor to disarm the blaring ringtone. Shifting away from the noise, she peered out the window, trying to tell the time. Her estimated guess, was midday by the bright sun blasting through her curtains. With sheer reluctance, Lacey’s eyes opened to face her demons from the evening before. Even in a sober state, anger boiled in her chest at the idea of Brooke breaking up with her. The need for a two-month disappearance before such devastating conclusions seemed baffling. Why the prolonged wait? How could her ex-girlfriend be so cowardly? The thought on its own made Lacey long for sleep.

She sat up in bed to give herself a moment to wake up. A pounding head served as an unwanted reminder from the night before. It was a lonely evening of drinking without company. Though reckless, the desire for numbness overruled reason. Solitude offered a secure space for processing emotions without judgment, providing solace. Brooke left, a decision beyond Lacey’s control. The return to a relationship she previously labeled toxic was a crushing blow. Did Reuben possess something Lacey lacked? It seemed like a nonsensical question. Lacey couldn’t let these doubts rule her life.

Her feet swung off the bed, and she rose from the comfort to gather the smacked item from the bedroom floor. When she retrieved the BlackBerry from the carpet, she checked the notifications. The phone had texts from patrons and a voicemail from the manager. An immediate lump formed in her throat as she worried about what he had to say.

Swallowing hard to gather the nerve, with a push of a finger, the message played.

“Hi, kid. What happened last night is of no interest. I need you to return to work. It’s impossible for me to hire someone quickly enough to deal with a weekend. So come tonight. Okay, bye.”

Lacey had to laugh at his obliviousness to her stubborn disposition. His staff shortage remained his burden, yet it brought back her experience of joblessness. Though unhappy, she had gratitude for the revelation of leaving her bedroom. The job hunt started today. She prepared herself for the rest of the day.

New York appeared lonely without company. Amidst millions, loneliness prevailed. The Upper East Side’s proximity offered numerous residences. Tourists and employment opportunities near the condo were scarce, offering little relief from her downtown commute. Lacey yearned for familiarity, so she knew returning to old haunts like Greenwich Village would help free her from the boring, stuffy neighborhood. The search wasn’t just work but also a new friend community. Her memories from nights out with Maisie served as enough reason for her to try the area out.

A few train stops later provided a neighborhood warmth. There were tattoo shops, bars, restaurants, and museums at her fingertips. Maisie’s spirit felt close by, guiding her through her favorite streets to a possible new job. Summer’s peak spurred everyone outside. She strolled through the bustling streets, and her interest piqued when she saw a ‘help wanted’ sign in the window of a seedy joint.

“Not hugely different,” she mused, shrugging. Going inside the dark establishment, Lacey walked up to the bar. Behind the counter, a man with curly black hair and face tattoos cleaned.

“Hi, I’m Lacey Sheridan,” she introduced herself with a friendly smile. “Are you the hiring manager? I saw the sign outside.” Though amused by her professionalism, the bartender showed some grace and decided not to be rude.

“Yeah, I am. Have you ever been a bartender?” he asked. A simple question held the key to solving both their problems. “I have!” she replied with a little too much enthusiasm.

The male laughed and extended his hand. “I’m Nick. You start tonight,” he said. Stunned by his response, she quirked a brow. “Yeah? What time?” she asked. “Ten pm. The weekend crowd is rowdy, so be ready,” he told her as he resumed cleaning his area.

Was getting a job that easy? Lacey was about to find out.

Editor: Lucy Caferio