Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Go freshen up. Do your job, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Is there any formal training?”
He put out his cigarette and blew out the last of the smoke. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s not that difficult.” He pointed to the hostess station. “See that standup table over there? You stand there, greet people, and you show them to a table if they opt not to head to one of the bars. If any of the staff has a problem or issue with a customer, they may come to you since you have the least to do out of everyone. Just wing it. It requires no skill, which is a good thing after your failed stint as a bartender. People learn by doing anyway. I’m a big proponent of throwing people into the fire, not wasting time trying to explain things—well, aside from having to drag you away from the bar today when you were losing me customers.”
“Sounds like a healthy work environment.”
He winked. “Don’t forget to smile, Shakespeare.”
I didn’t really have a role at The Heights. As owner of the joint, I wasn’t required to be here much of the time. That was what a manager and employees were for. But you could say I was a bit of a control freak. Plus, out of all of the businesses I owned, I favored the busy atmosphere of this place. It was where I felt most invigorated. So, I made it my home base.
Tonight, however, I seemed to be favoring The Heights a lot more than usual, and it was pissing me off. Every time I would catch myself looking over at my new hire, Gia, I would mentally scold myself. But she was hard not to look at. With long, wild dark hair, an infectious smile, and more spunk than she could contain in that petite frame, she stood out from the moment I’d first laid eyes on her. And she was wearing glasses, which for some reason I found extremely hot.
I didn’t live by a lot of rules. For the most part, I did what I wanted regardless of consequences. Smoking was an example. I knew it was terrible for me, but I did it anyway, even though I kept telling myself that I’d quit one day.
Lord knows I had the means to do whatever the hell I wanted in life. That was pretty crazy to be able to say at twenty-nine. The world was at my fingertips, and as a result, it was really easy to get carried away and mess everything up. But I vowed not to waste the opportunity my grandfather had given me a few years ago when he left me half of his estate, which included multiple properties out here in the Hamptons. Even though I didn’t live by many rules, I tried not to fuck up royally.
One big rule I did have was to not shit where I eat. Or rather, not to fuck where I work. Crossing the line with an employee was a hard limit for me. I’d yet to screw anyone I employed. And I wanted to keep it that way. Therefore, the moment I hired Gia Mirabelli was the moment Gia Mirabelli became off-limits.
Not mixing business with pleasure normally wasn’t an issue for me. But when that little firecracker ran her mouth off at me earlier, I could have sworn my dick hardened the second the word fuck came out of her mouth. No one spoke to me like that, which was precisely why I liked it when she did. Not to mention, fuck is a lot prettier sounding of a word when it comes out of the mouth of a beautiful woman.
Word around The Heights was that people seemed to think I was intimidating, particularly those who worked under me. Aside from Freddie, AKA ”Oak”—who, let’s face it, didn’t have to fear anyone because of his size—people seemed to be almost scared of me. But not Gia. Gia had no fucks left to give, and that was just about the most refreshing thing I’d experienced all year. Maybe ever.
During a slow spot in the evening, I’d had her write down all of her personal information for payroll purposes and—what do you know—turns out she lives in one of my properties that was rented out as a summer share. Since I had a management company that handled the tenants, she would have no easy way of knowing I owned it. I made a mental note to spring that piece of news on her when the opportunity was right.
The connection didn’t surprise me. I owned a good chunk of real estate in this part of the Hamptons. My estranged father and brother stayed in the City for the most part, managing the family business there. The Hamptons, though, was primarily my territory, at least from an operations standpoint.