Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
When the waitress offers a suggestive smile and goes to speak, I interrupt her. “We will only be served by Jewel.” She’s taken aback and looks over her shoulder at her colleague. But she shrugs and leads us to a booth. She’s speaking, telling us something about daily specials, but my gaze is focused on the lethal creature staring at her manicured nails while she waits for the bartender to make drinks.
She wasn’t lying about her first name. Her full name is Jewel Diamond, which is funny, really.
“Anything else I can get you before I leave?” the waitress asks, still holding a suggestive smile. One that, unsurprisingly, Hawke reciprocates because he can’t keep his dick in his pants. I don’t judge; I just prefer to find the limited few women who can handle my tastes.
I don’t even glance at the waitress as I ask, “How would you describe Jewel?” I put a fifty on the table and slide it toward her. When I do look up, she’s smiling as she takes the bill and slips it into her bra.
“Well, she doesn’t work for her tips. She’s pretty cutthroat and probably not a great server, but she hasn’t been fired yet,” she tells me before she turns and walks away.
“She looks so innocent. Are you sure she’s actually trying to kill you? This all feels pretty mundane to me,” Hawke says just as Ford walks in and takes the seat beside him.
Hawke was more than a few drinks in the night of Michelle’s party, but even he remembers watching me pull a knife from my fucking leg, a wound I’ve managed to hide from everyone as I consciously step through the little love bite. I refuse to show vulnerability.
If Dutton hadn’t already been close and skeptical of her presence that night, she might’ve very well slipped away. So, yes, besides this little façade of waitressing, she is deadly.
But I not so subtly remind him, “She broke into my house, put a fucking rat in my drawer, and took photos of me fucking other women. I doubt she’s innocent.” I tap my finger on the table as I wait for her to notice us.
“So she has skills,” Ford says. I resist the urge to punch him. “So why don’t you just kill her?”
“I have my reasons.” It’s true a lot of people have tried to kill me over the years, and I often deal with them swiftly and efficiently. This situation was different; I needed a lead to find her client. If I kill her now, I’ve got nothing. And with tension building around the families as to who I might align with and take as a wife, it’s very possible someone is trying to kill me to break an alliance and damage my family’s reputation. It’s exactly why I won’t tell my parents that someone is after me. I will claw my way to the top, because in my mind, all of it is already mine.
Jewel turns finally, tray in hand, with four drinks balanced on it. The waitress we previously spoke to leans in and whispers something into her ear. Her gaze cuts in my direction, and I can see the raging storm flaring in those wild tigress eyes. I can’t help the twitch of my lips, delighted in the palpable hatred she oozes when looking in my direction.
Her nose tilts higher as she walks in the opposite direction to deliver the drinks, nowhere near as friendly as the other waitress. Perhaps she wasn’t so wrong about Jewel’s personality.
I revel in the sound of her heels coming to an abrupt stop at our table.
“Has anyone told you two you look like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?” she asks the twins.
“What the fuck?” Ford hisses, offended, but Hawke laughs as he slaps his hand on his chest.
“I’ve been called worse,” he admits.
Her mouth twitches at his response, and I fucking hate it. As if sensing the tension, Hawke clears his throat and quickly looks at the menu.
Her glare then cuts to me. “What can I get you? I don’t think this establishment has much of what you’re used to. Unless, of course, you like cheap whiskey and beaming hospitality.”
Oh, so we’re playing that game.
I suddenly pretend to be very interested in the menu. “What do you recommend?”
Her plump lips press into a thin line as that frown makes its disapproving appearance.
“Nothing, it’s all shit.”
“Your waitress friend was right; you’re a shit server,” Hawke says, and she turns to him and smiles. The skin over my knuckles turns white as I curl my hands into fists, irritated he’s yet again grabbed her attention.
“Sure am, but your tip is automatically included in the bill. So it works. What can I get you three?”
“How about a side of rat?” Ford says, and her grip on the tray only momentarily tightens. But I give it to her, she’s quick to recover. And I’m so interested in everything about this woman.