“Excellent, Susan. Thank you for your time and thanks for coming in this morning to clear this up.”

“Anytime. I’m glad I could help.” Susan finally looked her way. Her smile tightened and her eyes narrowed just that little bit.

“You can go now.” Mrs. Harridge nodded and gave the barest ghost of a smile to Susan.

Once the door closed, she turned back to Julie. “Please be sure to return both sets of uniforms by the end of business tomorrow. They should be laundered to hotel standard. Should there be any damage, the cost will come out of your last paycheck. Should you not return your uniform on time, the charges for them will be deducted from your wages. I’m disappointed.”

“He was wanking off in front of me. I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one that you should be disappointed in, not me.” She rose to her feet. “I don’t want to work for an establishment that doesn’t look after its employees anyways.” She didn’t wait for a reply. Julie turned and walked from the room. She didn’t slam the door behind her even though she was sorely tempted. She wouldn’t give that beady eyed, troll the satisfaction.

She was a temporary employee, there was nothing she could do. It would be her word against his. She already knew how normal he looked. How clean cut and good looking. Asshole!

Maybe James would give her one last chance. She could only hope.

****

Five days later…

To think that everything she owned in the world fit inside this suitcase and the backpack on her back. Everything.

Julie huffed out a breath as she walked. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. There weren’t many options. Shelter, bus stop or alleyway. At least the weather forecast was mild with no rain predicted for the next couple of days. The only person she knew well enough to help her out for a couple of nights was Cloe but she wasn’t welcome at her house anymore.

Julie wasn’t any good at keeping her mouth shut and when she’d spotted telltale bruises on her friend’s arms, she’d said something about it. Especially since this wasn’t the first time she’d seen bruises on her friend’s body. The first time was a split lip. The second was bruises around her neck, which she’d tried to cover with a scarf in the middle of summer. Enough was enough. She wasn’t about to stand by while Cloe got beaten to a pulp.

The two of them had shared one of her many foster homes together. They hit it off immediately and had stayed in touch since but apparently calling her out on her abusive husband was a no no. A hard line. Hopefully her friend would see the light and hopefully it wouldn’t be too late.