Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
She leans in and throws her arms around my neck, and yells in my ear, “I love you. So, so much,” before she pulls away. My hands stay at my sides. “You don’t know what this means to me. These men…” Her whole body shakes and she bites her lip.
“I’m sure they aren’t that bad.”
“They never come to places like this. Bars aren’t what they do.”
“Bars are what everyone does,” I remind her.
She chews her bottom lip nervously. “No, not these men. When I saw their names, I didn’t believe they could possibly come here. But if it is really them…” She sucks in a breath. “They have a reputation, and its known. These are three men you never want on your bad side.”
“Well, maybe someone is just using their names, and you might get off easy.” I smile knowing how far-fetched it sounds but trying to make her feel better anyway.
“If someone is, then they have a death wish,” she murmurs under her breath before she turns and walks away. I shake my head, having never seen Louise this worked up over anything. She is always bubbly and doesn’t let anything get to her.
Kicking off my slides, I pull on my black cowboy boots. When I glance up, Sarah’s standing there applying her pink lipstick and staring at me.
“It’s meant to be pink tonight. Do you ever fucking listen?”
I hate Sarah as much as she hates me.
Ignoring her, I throw my slides into my locker and turn my back on her before I start to wander out.
“I can’t wait for the day they fire you,” she says loud enough for me to hear.
“Sarah, have you ever seen blackness before?” I ask, and she scrunches up her nose at my question.
“Who even says shit like that? Blackness? Do you even speak English?”
“Blackness is what happens when I slam your head into this locker so hard that all you see is black. So shut your fucking mouth before I do just that.”
She whips her inky hair over her shoulder and turns before storming off.
Maybe I should have slammed her fucking head anyway.
But I have to remind myself—no violence, I’m a new person now. I don’t have to slam heads into lockers because someone has pissed me off.
No, I’m not that person anymore.
But I could be if Sarah fucking pisses me off one more time.
Louise pulls me by my arm to her area.
My guys are all taken care of for now, and luckily for her, her men were late. So it all worked out well in the end.
“They recognize me,” she whispers.
“They do?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“Yes, I went to school with the twins. They don’t talk much.” Her grip tightens on my arm as she continues pulling me along.
“You really can’t do the rest yourself? You’ve already served them, and it is your job,” I state.
“They didn’t want to order, so I stepped away and got you. See if you can get them to order.”
Technically, they don’t have to order anything. They pay a large fee for the private tables as it is, but it’s all about up-sell, up-sell, up-sell. The more we up-sell the larger the tips.
When we get to the edge of where they are seated Louise stops and turns to me. “I’ll go and see if your men want any more drinks while you look after them.” She says “them” as if they are forbidden. When I don’t move, she pinches her lips together. “Please,” she begs.
“You owe me so big, you know that, right?” I say, pushing my lilac hair behind my ear. I should have dyed it pink. That would have made the boss happy, too bad I am not about making anyone happy but myself.
Louise leans up and kisses my cheek before she runs off, leaving me standing there. I sigh and step around the corner where I am immediately met with three sets of eyes. They’re all staring at me as I climb the stairs until I’m standing directly in front of them. I don’t know the color of their eyes, but their stares are laden with darkness, and I feel them creeping all over my body.
“Howdy, boys.” I smile as I voice the line we have to say when greeting customers. Cowboy bar, remember? And we aren’t even in Texas. Good Lord. “I know Louise has served you already.” I check and notice all the alcohol is untouched. Weird. “But I was hoping I could persuade you to partake in some of our top-shelf liquor.” When none of them respond, I open my mouth to go for a different angle when someone else walks up the stairs. This guy offers me a smile as he takes a seat.
“Bring us the Macallan,” he says.
“The thirty year old?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“We only serve that by the bottle.”