Are You Incompetent or Just Stupid?

Chapter 4

Lexi's POV 

As Mr. Anderson leads Mr. Wilson into the party and into the VIP lounge, I notice Mr. Anderson laughing as if Mr. Wilson has just said the funniest thing in the world. In reality, Mr. Wilson has only been nodding and grunting to seem polite I'm guessing. I've worked at many of Mr. Anderson's parties, and while I know he is very wealthy, it’s eye-opening to see someone so rich behave like a total sycophant. I guess what they say about money having levels is true. 

Once Mr. Wilson is settled in, I quickly get to work. “Sir, is there anything I can get you?” He looks up at me, and I can see irritation in his eyes, but I'm not sure if it's directed at me or Mr. Anderson. I suspect it's the latter since all I’ve done since meeting him is my job. I can't say the same about Mr. Anderson, though. I keep a polite and professional smile on my face as I wait for Mr. Wilson's response.

“Scotch, neat,” he replies. 

“And sir, how about you?” 

“Ah yes, I’ll take a bourbon on the rocks. Now, shoo, girl! Can’t you see we’re discussing important things here?” 

At that, my smile wavers a little. I turn to leave when I’m stopped by a voice. “Wait, Alexis.” At that, my smile completely disappears. I meet his eyes, and I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I see a glint of amusement in his gaze. He knows I took offense to what Mr. Anderson said. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Get a bucket of ice.”

“Yes, sir.” With that, I turn to leave but stop to meet his eyes again. 

“Lexi is fine, sir.” Without waiting for a response or reaction, I turn to leave.

"Hombres estúpidos y su estúpida necesidad de mostrar masculinidad"("Stupid men and their stupid need to show masculinity"), I mumble to myself.

I quickly pull out my notepad and pen, scrambling the order on the page as I approach the bar. 

“Hey Jack,” I say to the bartender. “Can you get this ready, please? I need to use the ladies' room.” I smile.

“Sure thing,” he replies.

I head toward the bathroom and take out my phone to check on Aria. To my surprise, I already see a text from her, and panic begins to set in.

“Hey Mana(sis), don’t panic, I know you’re already heading there. Relax! I just felt a little lightheaded, so I went to the hospital. They put me on normal saline, and I'm almost done with it. You do not need to leave work, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you at home since I know you’re working late,

Love you!”.

By the time I finish reading the text, I’m in full-blown panic mode. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them again. “Relax, Lexi,” I tell myself. “She said she’s fine. Relax. What do I do? What do I do?” I pace the bathroom.

“Shit —Lightheadedness.” I quickly open my phone and dial her number, and she picks up on the first ring, no doubt already expecting the call.

“I said relax, didn’t I? I’m fine,” Aria reassures me.

“Hello to you too then, and how do you expect me to relax, Aria? I can’t relax knowing you’re in the hospital! I should head over there right now.”

“No, Lexi, no! I told you not to come here. You’re working, and that’s more important.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re more important than any job.”

“Okay, wait. Look at it this way: your job and the money you earn are what will help us solve this problem. If you leave now and head over here, you won’t get paid. That’s a loss, which means we’ll be even further behind in gathering money for the surgery.”

“You’re right. Ugh, I hate when you’re right,” I say in frustration.

“Wait, if you were feeling lightheaded, how did you get to the hospital?”

“Oh, I had Lydia drive me. I told her I wasn’t feeling well and asked if she could take me, and she happily agreed.”

“She’s a blessing! Remind me to make her something to thank her one of these days. She’s practically our best neighbor.”

“Yes, ma’am”, she says sarcastically.

“I have to go now; I’m already late. I’m serving a billionaire's son this time around.”

“Ooh, is he hot?”

“Yeah, I guess, but so far his behavior is what’s really standing out.”

She cackles, like, legit cackles. “Give me the full tea when you get home”.

“You know I always do!”

“I love you. Get home safe.”

“I love you too! Don’t come here.”

“Can’t make any promises,” I say.

“Whatever,” she replies, and with that, I end the call.

I feel a lot better having spoken to her, but the worry I feel doesn’t go away—not just because she’s in the hospital, but also because we have less than thirty days to come up with the money. With what we’ve saved so far, we have hardly made a dent in the cost. Frustration rises in me, but I shove it aside. I can think about it to my heart’s content when I’m home and in my bed, but for now, I have to suck it up.

I head back to the bar to get the order, I take it off the counter and balance it on my hand with practiced ease, not bothering to check seeing as jack isn't here I'm sure it's my order he left. My nerves were high—Aria was in the hospital,the night has barely begun, it's past 8pm and I'm goddamn tired. I could either get fired today or tipped big at this rate, maybe both, maybe neither.

“As I enter, I see a new person has joined the group—tall, sharply dressed, with a face that belongs in magazines and a playboy smile. Great, just my luck—another one.”I approach the table and set down the ice bucket along with each drink. It’s as if they don’t even notice me because they are engaged in an intense conversation, and this time it’s Mr. Wilson who’s speaking. Normally, I would tune in to what they are saying, but I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown and not in the right state of mind to care. I just want this night to be over so I can quickly get home, see Aria, and reassure her that everything will be fine. Then I can go to my room and break down, because deep down I know everything isn’t fine and won't be if we don’t get the money for her surgery. 

Amid my thoughts, I feel someone touch my arm and see that it’s the new guy. “Yes, sir?” I respond.

“We’ve been speaking to you for more than two minutes, and you seem to engrossed in your thoughts to even hear us,” he says. “You’re in your own head, and you can’t do two things at once.” 

“Sorry, sir,” I reply. “It won’t happen again.” 

“Mr. Anderson, you praised this catering service when I arrived a while ago, claiming they are the best. But all I see from this one representative is incompetence, lack of discipline, and a lot of nonsense,” Mr. Wilson says. “I expected better, considering this is the first of your events I've attended, and honestly, I did it because we had a lot to discuss. I know that not reserving on time could have been an issue, but if this catering was as good as you said, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. Clearly, it has been because all we’ve got is an incompetent, slow girl to serve us.”

He says cooly,

He looked at the glass, then at me, eyes like winter. “Are you incompetent, or just stupid?”

The words were low, smooth, deadly.

I froze. I needed this job. The room fell away.I balled my hands so hard I'm sure I'll leave marks. Breathe, Lexi. Don’t cry. Not here. Not now.. I offered a tight smile. “

“Sorry?”

You heard me, we asked for particular drinks, scotch neat and bourbon on the rocks. Why are we being served whiskey on the rocks? You couldn't complete such a simple task, so I asked, are you incompetent or just stupid?

Uh..uh I'm sorry sir, I didn't know, I'll rectify it immediately sir.. 

“Leave me this one”, the new guy says collecting one from the table,and drinking it 

“I forgot that being rich comes with taste buds that are fragile,” I mutter quietly.

The man beside him chokes on his drink.

I wince. Okay… maybe not as quietly as I thought.

Mr Wilson brow lifted. “You know, most people feel remorse when they mess up.”

I feel at loss of words not knowing what to do or say in this situation, I was caught red-handed,might I add.

He stared at me for a long second. Something unreadable flickered behind the arrogance he calls eyes.

Then he said nothing. Just waved the drink away, and turned back to his table.

I shuffled out of the room quickly, furious at myself—and maybe just a little proud.

As I approach the bar, Jack and I lock eyes, and he looks a little relieved. 

"Hey Jack, I think I got the wrong order." 

"Yes, yes. Ugh, I was hoping you didn't. I left that order out for Nora, and I hadn't made yours yet. I had to go get something from behind, and by the time I got back, the drinks were gone. I was hoping it was Nora who took it." 

"It's cool, Jack." 

"I hope your guest wasn't too hard on you." 

"Yeah, it's all settled now. I'll just get his order now, please." 

"Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem." 

"Thanks!"

I returned to the table with the corrected drink balanced neatly on my tray. There were no apologies, no words—just a silent delivery, placing it right in front of them. 

None of them reached for it. Instead, Mr. Wilson's eyes met mine—cool and unreadable, lingering just a moment too long. I held his gaze, unwavering. 

Then, with a curt nod, he dismissed me, as if nothing had happened. 

I didn’t stick around. I turned and quietly retreated to the side, waiting for this strange night to end so I could go home and see Aria.