Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
It took a few minutes before I spotted them.
As expected, even her boss had a tough time getting Braxton to comply. She was still arguing with him even now as they made their way toward us. Just as I was wondering if he’d told them who had requested her, she climbed the stairs, and her big eyes widened when she saw us sitting there. She was wearing this black number made spectacular only by her subtle curves as the dress hugged her body.
Her brown gaze moved from Houston to Rich before narrowing on me. Of course, she assumed this was my idea.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Miss Fawn!” the managed bellowed his outrage before turning to us and apologizing profusely. “She’ll be terminated immediately,” he swore.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I warned him.
Utterly shocked, he blinked rapidly at me before regaining most of his composure. “I-I don’t understand.”
“We know her,” Rich informed him.
“And we like her,” I cheerily added with a wink directed at Braxton.
Houston, of course, said nothing as he looked Braxton over like he was bored. I bet he was already planning to make her quit this gig but wisely kept his mouth shut rather than seize the opportunity that just landed in his lap.
“Nevertheless,” the manager began before facing Braxton. If he fired her anyway, I was knocking his toupee-wearing ass down those steps. “Succulent prides itself on providing fine dining and excellent service. These are our special guests who’ve personally chosen you to wait on them. I expect you to be professional from this point forward and give these gentlemen whatever they desire.”
Now you’re talking. Maybe he wasn’t common-sense deficient, after all.
The manager stormed away, taking the rest of the actual waiters and waitresses with him. They looked disappointed about not being able to wait on us, so I sent a quick text to our assistant before focusing on Braxton.
“You look nice,” I complimented after slowly looking her over once more. “Why don’t you dress like that when you come to rehearsal?”
“I didn’t realize there was a dress code.”
“There is now.”
Rich kicked me under the table, a nonverbal demand for me to be less verbal, so I knocked his glass over, spilling his water into his lap. He jumped up like he was on fire before snatching up his white napkin cloth and dabbing at the ice-cold water wetting his crotch.
Braxton, catching the entire exchange, shook her head. “You know it’s hard to believe that the three of you are grown men.”
I had so many dirty responses to that. Wisely, I kept my mouth closed. Jericho, sitting down again, swiped my water for himself since I spilled his and started guzzling it down.
“So,” she said with a sigh before lifting the notepad and pen in her hand. “What can I start you off with?” She clicked the pen a little harder than necessary.
“Depends,” I spoke before the others could. “What do you recommend?”
“To leave.”
Rich choked on his water while Houston frowned down at him. He was so embarrassing.
“Sorry, but I don’t think that’s on the menu.”
Braxton didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned over, giving me a full view of her breasts and the freckles there while she flipped open the menu in front of me. I wondered where else she hid her freckles.
“We have an amazing selection of wine—”
“Don’t drink the stuff.”
She paused, meeting my gaze, which I’d been smart enough to remove from her tits before she caught me. “Well, what about your friends?”
“Birds of a feather.”
“We have other drinks—”
“I’ll just take a lemonade.” She looked surprised, but I wasn’t about to elaborate or explain my drinking choices.
Sensing this, she stood up straight before turning to Houston. “And you?”
“Coke.”
She wrote it down before turning to Rich. “I’ll just take more water,” he answered before she could ask. I caught the dirty look he gave me and laughed.
“All right then. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as she walked away—yes, I watched her walk away—I turned to my friends. “A hundred bucks, she thinks we’re alcoholics.”
“Does it matter?” Houston asked. Irritation creased his brow.
“If I’m going to bone and possibly marry her, it does.”
“You’re not, so I guess it doesn’t.”
I resisted the urge to cause a scene by breaking my best friend’s nose. “Afraid I’ll beat you to the punch?”
Houston waved me off. “I’m only interested in her guitar skills.”
“Which you act like she doesn’t have. Care to explain why you’re keeping her around then?”
“Because you know as well as I do we don’t have a choice. You know what Carl is up to. We all know why he chose her.”
“So you think you can get her ready in three goddamn months? Toot your own horn much?” Houston’s frustration was palpable at his point, so I leaned forward, eager to go in for the kill. “Just admit it.”