Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I was weak, and I showed him my weakness.
I spin on my heels and walk in the opposite direction of the room I’m supposed to be tending to for Lauren. I get to the bar and tap my fingers nervously.
“I thought you were helping Lauren?” Carter says, frowning in confusion. “Did you already send in the order?”
All our orders are done electronically through an app on our cell phone. They’re sent directly to Carter at the bar or back to the kitchen.
“Strange. You didn’t get it?” I lie, fidgeting.
Carter narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting strange.”
“What? Me?” I say, sounding even worse and wanting to hide under the bar in total humiliation. Not a damn thing warrants my acting like a teenage girl hiding out from her crush.
“Bailey,” Carter drawls, smirking from ear to ear. “Why did you not go to room two?”
I throw my head back and groan. “Drew was walking toward me.”
He laughs. “You’re serious? Get your ass in that room and take their orders. Lauren will kill you if you mess up her tip.”
He’s right. I promised, and I have my own tables to check on. I spin around, prepared to get back to work and fulfill my promise when I run smack into a firm wall.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking off the dizzy feeling one gets from running into a solid surface.
“In a hurry?” A smooth, masculine voice pulls my eyes upward until a chilling, onyx gaze assaults my senses. Drew smirks down at me, and I melt and die in equal parts.
“Um, I . . . gotta go,” I blurt out, walking around him and fleeing the scene.
Oh my god, you’re an idiot.
On the entire way to room two, I replay that awkward exchange and the absolute embarrassment I felt at acting like a scared kitten. He was laughing at me. Either from the way I acted yesterday, or maybe he realizes I was avoiding him. Neither thought is comforting. He’s not laughing about yesterday. I don’t know Drew, but something tells me he’s not cruel. He’d been genuinely concerned about me. He couldn’t have faked that. Nope, he knows I’m avoiding him.
Walking in, I almost miss the same asshole from before. Reese, I think I heard Carter say was his name. My back straightens as I prepare for his rudeness, but it never comes. Instead, when he notices me, he smiles wide and motions me to the table.
“You again,” he says, cheerfully. No evidence of disdain at all. “What’s your name?” His gaze lingers far too long for my liking. My cheeks heat, and I feel my body folding in on itself.
“Um, Bailey?” It comes out as a question because this change in attitude gives me whiplash.
“Ah, Bailey. Glad to see you’re back,” he says, finally looking away. “Can you grab us two bottles of Goose?”
I let out the breath I was holding. “Sure. Anything else?” I ask as I key in Reese’s order.
“Nope, but hurry back. I’d like to get to know you.” He grins, but something about the way he gapes at me has my back going ramrod straight. It’s not entirely predatory, but it’s unnerving as hell.
“I’m only helping out Lauren for a minute. She’ll be back soon,” I say, walking toward the exit. “I’ll make sure you get your Goose right away.”
“Bailey,” Reese calls out, and he motions me back toward him. “I want you to have this.”
He holds out his hand, and as I move closer to see what it is, he pulls his arm back, hoping I’ll come closer. I know this game far too well, and I’m not biting. “What? I won’t bite. Well . . . not unless you want me to.” He grins, and the other men at the table chuckle and hoot.
His finger moves slightly, and I see a one-hundred-dollar bill in his palm. I don’t play games, but for that kind of tip for taking one order? I’ll gladly take the bait. I move forward like he wants until my legs hit his knees. “Sit,” he commands, pointing toward his leg. I cross my arms over my chest and pop a hip. “I’m not sure my boss would like that,” I say as an excuse.
“Drew doesn’t care as long as the drinks are flowing, and his customers are happy. You want to make me happy, right, chwaer?”
“What does that even mean?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
I roll my eyes. Tip or not, this guy is something else. I’m prepared to walk away and lose out on the money when he starts laughing.
“I like it. She’s not easily won over, guys. I have to work harder,” he titters, but something in the way his voice shakes tells me this is all just one giant show. He’s acting out for his clown friends. Why?