She blinks slowly. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. And my last boyfriend was an engineering major.”
Okay, she’s right. That sucked. Good thing picking up Jade is the last thing on my wish list. “Pickup line? Damn, babe, I love your optimism.”
Her green eyes settle on me, humbling me without saying a word. “I think we’re done here.” She turns her back and stalks away.
“Don’t be late for your first shift,” I tell her. “I’m not a nice boss.”
She gives me the finger without looking back. Goddamn this girl is such a fucking ballbuster. The complete opposite of what I want. I like girls who work for my affection, I think as I glance back at Grace; at least I did. I take one more look at Jade as she walks away, her ass looking amazing in those pants. Training her is gonna be a bitch—and I can’t wait.
NINE
jade
I can tellby the smug look on Reeve’s face when I show up to the restaurant on Sunday that he doesn’t plan on taking it easy on me during our training.
I walk past without acknowledging him to stash my stuff in the office, and when I come out, he’s laughing it up with one of the line cooks, the gross one all the female staff hate because he does nothing but leer when one of us walks in. When he and Reeve notice me, they go silent and give me a long look.
“If you want to know, check my OnlyFans,” I say tartly. As I turn to go, I see them exchange an amused glance before Reeve follows after me.
“So we’re going to be spending our evening together, huh?”
I stop in the hallway outside the office to look in the mirror. “That’s the sentence that’s been handed down.”
“Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you do. But don’t worry, I can teach you everything you need in one shift if you pay attention.”
I smirk in the mirror but don’t look at him. “This is a formality, okay? I’ve been a server before.”
“Bet you never made the kind of tips I make.” Reeve leans against the wall and watches me adjust my tie.
“Maybe, but I bet you can’t teach me how to be a big shiny football star in one shift, can you?”
“That’s not the only reason I get big tips. I know how to talk to people; I always have. You gotta use whatever you have to charm the customers. You, for example, might want to consider a shirt in the next size down.”
I whip my head toward him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not being a pig here. I’m just reminding you how men are.”
I shake my head. “You’re gross.”
“Look, I don’t care if you walk around this place wearing a garbage bag. You want to make more money, I’m telling you how.”
“You’re a true hero. Now can we start already?”
Reeve isa different person when he works.
Not completely different—he’s still charming and annoyingly sure of himself—but there’s a professional side to him that takes me completely by surprise. He’s smooth with the customers, but deferential when he needs to be. He doesn’t give me shit when I screw up, which I do; turns out, being a server in an upscale restaurant has its quirks. And he doesn’t make a single pigheaded comment about me or the customers, not even the twentysomething Barbie lookalike whose enormous boobs are basically sitting on the table in front of her and her fiftysomething date for all to ogle.
Near the end of the night, just when I’m feeling confident, he lets me take the lead at a table of three, but my mind goes blank on the nightly specials, and when the guests ask for dishrecommendations, I completely space on the menu. I feel like an idiot. But Reeve acts like nothing happened, except I notice he walks a little closer to me as we leave the table. I find it oddly comforting. Back at the server station, I quickly grab what we need for the next table, but he stops me.
“Hold on,” he says. “Your tie.”
I look down at my tie and, to my surprise, he reaches out and gently adjusts the knot. Even though our skin doesn’t make contact, the feel of my shirt collar brushing my neck as his hand tightens the tie makes goose bumps break out all over my body. The two seconds it takes him feel much, much longer as I stand rooted to the spot, watching his fingers work and feeling their effect all through me.
He nods when he’s done. “There. All good.” He walks off toward our next table and I follow, wondering how he managed to neutralize my embarrassment with a simple twist of my tie.
And then it’s all over as soon as our shift ends, and the Reeve I know and loathe returns.
“I thought you were gonna be better at this, actually,” he tells me as we clock out in the office.
