Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I blink. “A guy? That’s what you think I need?”
“Of course! If you fill your heart, you fill the canvas.”
I snort. “Gorgeous, muscly guys aren’t my type. Guys with muscles all over the place and too sexy a face, they’re never up to any good. The last thing I need is a pretty boy who thinks he’s God’s gift to gay men.”
“It’s the only thing you need. Hey, we even have a cute little guest room you can stay in! Recently vacated by my boyfriend’s gal pal. I’ll be springing this on Toby, but he won’t mind. Besides, it’ll be fun!”
It does sound like fun. But—“I also still have a paper to finish for my Medieval Art History class. Not to mention a charcoal portrait I have to do for my—”
“All I’m hearing are excuses.”
“And didn’t I also mention two seconds ago that I’m recently jobless? How am I gonna pay my rent?”
“I’m tryin’ to save your artistic soul here! That takes priority over food, shelter, and breath.”
“Vann …”
“Look, you’ve got about five minutes to decide before I have to head out anyway. Toby’s expecting me. There’s some sort of thing he wanted us to do.”
My portfolio case sits in a chair at the table like it’s waiting to be served dinner. My other two roommates went home for a family thing. All that’s left for me here is the whimpering moans of my remaining roommate as her lips smack all over her girlfriend’s neck in its quest to grow a hickey farm. That saliva-infested marathon is going to go on all weekend. That’s all I have to look forward to here.
A weekend of my roommate’s saliva.
And wondering how to save my own life.
I don’t need five minutes; five seconds is enough. “When do we leave?”
“Now.”
Chapter 2 - Adrian
“Keep the change.”
I put on my best smile and take the check. “Thanks so much. I hope you enjoyed your meal here at Thalassa, and y’all have a great time tonight on the boardwalk.”
I tap my fingers on a screen. The register pops open.
Money in, money out.
One table is finished and bussed, another table flags me down to order a drink, an older man with a gray beard and a twinkle in his eyes. “Keep the change,” he says with a wink as he slips a twenty into my belt.
Another dashing smile. “Thanks so much, sir.”
It’s a whirlwind of a night at Thalassa, the Quicksilver Strand’s signature seafood restaurant. Already, I’ve had two anniversaries, a birthday, and a very needy man whose lobster bisque had to be taken back twice. No matter how busy it gets, my brow doesn’t break a sweat.
And my charm stays intact. “Keep the change,” says another man, biting his lip as he gazes up at me from a sea of his girlfriends, with whom he just shared a meal.
I smile back. “Thanks. Have a wonderful night, sir.”
“Anything you recommend a lonely guy like me could do here in Dreamwood? It’s my first time,” he explains in a suggestive tone, to the tune of his female friends giggling.
I give him a smirking look. “Everything,” I answer.
His face blushes.
I tap my fingers on a screen. The register pops open.
Money in, money out.
Over and over again, the sound of that register popping open is music to my ears. I’ve gotten so many tips tonight, I lost count. It’s good news for the kitchen staff, too, with whom we share the tips. They churn out dish after dish with ease. What is it about today? Must be gold in the air.
“Are you going to Teegan’s thing tonight?” asks Erick, a fellow server.
I’m in the kitchen waiting on an order. “You mean the pajama thing? Yeah, of course. His parties are a blast.”
“Well, I guess they would be for you.”
I glance at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” He leans against the counter, squinting to read a ticket hanging in front of him.
“What is it? You don’t have fun at Teegan’s parties?”
“It’s just …” Erick sighs. “I always start off in a good mood. I see lots of cuties. I dance and I mingle and I do the whole flirty thing. And then … I always go home alone.”
I shrug. “Hey, maybe it’ll be different this time. You never know. There are new guys there every weekend.”
“I don’t know. After a while, you start to lose hope.” He barely looks at me, gnawing on his lip. In a reluctant tone, he adds, “Life’s a lot easier when you’re pretty.”
I shoot him a look. What the hell is he implying with that? “That’s not true.”
“Of course it is. Just check how many tips I got tonight compared to you. It’s obvious.”
“But we all share the tips. You benefit, too, y’know.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“So what are you implying exactly?”
“Nothing. Like I said, nothing. Forget it.” He grabs a set of cutlery with a sigh and flees the kitchen, leaving me at the counter with a dumbfounded look on my face.