And any guy who didn’t think all women were beautiful was a fucking idiot. I didn’t care how ugly or fat society claimed a woman to be, all women had something to offer a man who didn’t have his head stuck up his ass.
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Speaking of women,” Xavier chimed in, “Kimberly Alba put in an official request to speak with Kelsey about something.”
“Kimberly Alba,” I murmured, trying to place the name.
“She’s a server at The Opera,” Atticus supplied.
“Do you know why?” I asked Xavier. I was a micromanaging sonofabitch, and I had my eyes and ears open to everything that happened in my world.
“She barely put in the request today,” he said. “I’m heading over there after dinner to ask around.”
“Good. Please, keep me informed.”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
Chapter 2
Devi~
My feet were screaming at me, but I’d been so busy this week, I hadn’t been able to go to the store and buy new shoe insoles. Besides, you couldn’t get the good kind for less than fifty dollars, and the thrifty side of me winced at the idea of spending that kind of money on insoles when I had to replace them as often as I did. Expensive didn’t exactly equal quality.
However, my shift was almost over, and I only had to get through tonight before I could enjoy my first weekend off in months. Since I had a day shift tomorrow, the plan was to get off work, go home, clean my house from top to bottom, and then do absolutely nothing on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. I was going to catch up on my reading for three days straight before I had to face the real world again on Monday.
A small part of me cringed at how ungrateful my eagerness might seem, but I wasn’t ungrateful for my job. While waitressing hadn’t been my dream job growing up, it was a good job, and I happened to work in one of the few restaurants in town that didn’t take our tips into consideration as part of our pay rate.
The Opera was one of the three restaurants owned by the Vaudeville Corporation, and it paid well above minimum wage. Now, could I afford to lease a Lexus? No. Could I pay my bills every month and still afford to eat take-out twice a week? Yes.
I’d gotten the job four years ago, when I’d had no choice but to look for something that could pay more than the cashier job I’d had before. While I lived frugally, my brother often needed help and there were times where it had put a serious strain on my finances, but he was my brother. I had to help him.
Our parents had died in a boating accident while we’d still been in high school. I had been a freshman, and Keith had been a junior. And being minors, we’d been forced to go live with our father’s brother, Uncle Terrence.
Now, while Clarence and Bonnie Westland had been great people and parents, Uncle Terrence had been an entirely different breed altogether.
Keith and I had grown up in typical suburbia. Dad had been a corporate accountant and Mom had been a news station producer. We’d had a nice life, with no worries, great friends, and awesome neighbors.
Then Dad had surprised Mom with a cruise for their anniversary, and our entire lives had been irrevocably changed forever. Over six-thousand passengers onboard and our parents had been two out of the eighteen that had been caught up in a cabin fire in the middle of night. The only consolation when we’d been told was that they had both died of smoke inhalation before their cabin had caught fire.
It had been tragic, heartbreaking, and had left us orphans.
And if the death of our parents hadn’t been devastating enough, the settlement we had received had gone to our legal guardian, and Uncle Terrence had blown through every dollar in less than two years. Knowing Keith would turn eighteen soon, Uncle Terrence had burned through the money faster I thought would ever be possible for one person to spent six-million dollars.
When Keith had graduated from high school, all that was left of the money was some hundred-thousand dollars. But that money went quickly within two years after Uncle Terrence had kicked us both out, forcing Keith to become my legal guardian and see me through graduating high school.
Since then, we’ve been doing our best to live happy lives. Keith was a mechanic by trade, and I had bounced around, doing odd jobs, until I finally found this one. And while Keith had a tendency to get caught up in some unfortunate situations from time to time, I couldn’t complain much. Besides, who would listen?
“I did it.” I turned at my best friend’s voice. “I officially requested a meeting with the manager.”
“You did?”
Kimberly Alba was five-foot-three of vibrant sass. She had walnut-brown hair, dark brown eyes, and was too pretty for words. She was also thick where it counted and was the definition of voluptuous. I had shared a shift with her on my first day of work here, and we’ve been best friends ever since. Where I was too serious sometimes, Kimberly was living life while answering to no one. At thirty-years-old, Kimberly was probably the most fun thing in my life.
I loved her to death.
She nodded. “Yeah,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice low. “I need my job, but…not at the price of my dignity.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “Besides, keeping my mouth shut is killing me.”
I huffed out a muffled laugh. “I bet.”
