She looked at me then, long enough to make my chest tighten. Something flickered in her eyes, something unsure and maybe a little hopeful, but then she blinked and pulled back behind that practiced shrug. “Well… thanks,” she said lightly, but the edge in her tone made it clear: I wasn’t off the hook just yet.
Before I could say anything, she turned her attention to a group of three guys who had just stumbled in, their umbrellas dripping all over the floor. Judging by their slurred jokes and the way they leaned on each other, it was clear they’d been bar-hopping for hours. I gave them a once-over, silently pleading for Anna to let someone else handle the table. These guys hadtroublewritten all over them.
But, unfortunately, Anna was on call. “Hiya, boys. How are y’all doing today?” She approached them with forced cheer.
The guy with the shoulders so broad that he must have bench-pressed kegs for fun, grinned like he’d just been served on a silver platter. “A whole lot better now that you’re here.” His eyes gleamed like a frat boy who’d just discovered a two-for-one special.
She took their order, and when she returned with their beer, one of the other men, Mr. Backward Baseball Cap, decided to kick things up a notch. He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer as if she were part of his order. “Hey there, darling. Why don’t I help you out?”
Help her? Seriously? With what? Being a sleaze? My hand tightened on my glass, and my body tensed.
Anna didn't need me to intervene; I could see that in the way she deftly shifted her tray away and peeled his hand off with precision that screamed,Don't even try it, pal.
"I'm good, thanks." Anna's voice was sweet but edged with a warning. "How about you focus on the drinks, and I'll focus on the service."
I should have relaxed then. She had it handled. But my jaw stayed clenched, my fists balled under the table.
The third guy chimed in, his bark of a laugh cutting through the air like a car alarm. "I bet with looks like yours, you get tips just for smiling. How about I add a little something extra when you're done?"
Anna straightened, her composure unshakable. But Mr. Backward Baseball Cap wasn't done. He reached for her hand, lifting it as if inspecting it for a prize. "You don't look like the kind of girl who'd turn down a better offer." He grinned at his buddies. "Why don't you ditch this place and come party with us?"
That was my breaking point. I shot up from my seat before I even realized what I was doing. "Enough." My voice came out firm, stripped of any pretense or the French accent I had been using earlier. It was just me—raw and furious.
Anna whipped around, her eyes flashing a warning:Don't make this worse.But I couldn't stop.
"You don't grab someone like that. Show some respect," I shot back, glaring at the guy. Every muscle in my body was tense, ready for a confrontation.
Mr. Broad Shoulders raised his hands, pretending to be the picture of innocence. "Relax, man. We were joking around. No harm done." He turned back to Anna, his grin faltering but still holding onto his bravado. "Didn't realize she had a bodyguard."
"I'm not her—" I started, but Anna's hand shot up, cutting me off.
"Thank you, gentlemen," she said, her smile tight, with forced politeness. "Enjoy your drinks."
The guys took their drinks to go and slunk off after tossing a crumpled bill on the table, leaving behind a palpable tension. Car Alarm Laugh let out one last bark of his grating guffaw before the door slammed shut behind them.
Anna let out a long, frustrated sigh and turned to me, holding the crumpled bill in her hand. "Great. They gave me barely enough for a bottle of water."
"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "But those guys were way out of line?—"
"I know they were out of line, Luke." Her voice was tight, controlled. "I deal with guys like that every shift. I had it handled."
"I know you did, but?—"
"But what?" She crossed her arms. "You thought I needed rescuing?"
The edge in her voice caught me off guard. "I wasn't trying to rescue you. I was trying to help."
"Help?" She let out a bitter laugh. "You know what would've helped? Letting me do my job. Those guys were drunk and handsy, yeah, but they were also about to order another round. That's twenty, maybe thirty bucks in tips. Tips I actually need."
Guilt twisted in my gut, but frustration bubbled up alongside it. "So, what, you're supposed to just smile and take it? Let them treat you like that?"
She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "This is my job, Luke. This is how I pay my rent. And when some guy in a ridiculous disguise jumps in like he's my knight in shining armor, it makes me look weak. Like I can't handle myself."
"I just don't get why you have to flirt with guys like that for a few extra bucks."
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I'd screwed up.
Her eyes narrowed, her anger hitting me like a punch. "Excuse me?" She crossed her arms, her stare withering. "In your world, you get paid millions to cozy up to your co-stars on screen, and you're judging me for a little banter?"
