“You should.” I smile.
I giggle internally as Sullivan sees him out. Ashley will love having a guy as flirty as Jones coming in. She’ll have him overflowing our tip jar without him even realizing what’s happening.
Sullivan storms back into the room, having removed his tie and jacket. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a tense, flushed neck. He stops in front of Molly and me and stands with his hands on his hips.
“Uniform,” he grumbles. “Do you want me to provide one for you, or do you have something more suitable to wear while you’re working for me?”
“Um…” I hand my baby doll to Molly. “Can you please rock him to sleep for me? You’ve done such a good job with your baby. But he’s struggling to drift off,” I say softly.
“There, there, baby,” she coos, taking over beautifully as I stand to face Sullivan, keeping my voice a whisper.
“What do you mean? Do you want me to wear a uniform?”
“I don’t…” He purses his lips, hands still braced on his hips. “I don’trequireyou to wear a uniform. But you cannot wearthat.” His eyes drag over my pink shirt and skirt again before he snaps them away, his jaw clenching.
I look down and finally understand what it is that’s bothering him. My cheeks heat as I adjust the straining material, trying to close the gaps between the buttons where the material gapes.
“It shrank when my dad washed it. I know…” I swallow down the humiliation. “I know my figure doesn’t exactly suit the style, but?—”
“The style is fine,” he barks, before his eyes flick up to the ceiling and he runs his tongue over his lips. “I just… I can’t have you wearing it.”
I nod, my cheeks burning. Ashley has a new one coming for me. One that will fit and not show every curveand bump.
“It’s…” Sullivan’s head drops down and his eyes snag on my shirt. He grimaces, like the sight angers him. “You wearing that… It’s… distracting.” A vein in his temple throbs and he breathes in deeply, like he’s trying to maintain control.
I frown. “Distracting?”
His pupils flare, and a flash of something that looks like heat, but can’t be, blazes through his eyes. It’s gone in an instant.
“Um… okay, sure. I’ll bring my own clothes next time.”
His shoulders relax and his jaw slackens. “Make sure you do.”
10
TATE
“I’ll makesomething special tomorrow, I promise,” I tell my father while I clear our plates of spaghetti from the table that I created from the meager contents of our refrigerator.
“Best damn spaghetti I ever ate.” My father grins, batting away my comment.
I shake my head with a smile and finish tidying up. My first paycheck from Sullivan dropped into my account as we were sitting down to eat. I’m glad I hadn’t taken a mouthful, because I’d have choked. The amount in my account was more than the contract said to expect. And it was quickly followed by a curt text message from Sullivan telling me the extra was an advance.
He's crazy, he must be. He’s barely even needed me the past three days since I went to his place. Molly’s been with family. Sullivan manages her care well. I doubt he’ll have much need for me at all. Still, I can’t complain. Not when the money couldn’t have come at a better time.
“I’ll see you later. Be careful while I’m gone,” I say, pressing a kiss to my father’s whiskery cheek.
“I’m not dead yet, Tate.” He chuckles.
I grab my grocery list and purse and head toward the door. “Keep it that way,” I call back with a grin.
“Do you think he’ll give you a key to his place? I’d love to get a look around a billionaire’s pad like that.”
“I can bet my left kidney that Sullivan Beaufort willnevergive me a key to his place.” I shake my head, smiling at Ashley’s crestfallen expression before returning my attention to my phone.
We’re taking a breather after the morning rush, and I’m checking The Masked Maestro’s social media.
“Oh, oh, oh!” I squeal, thrusting the phone under Ashley’s nose. “He’s doing another show in a couple of weeks.”
