The bells at the front door jingled as I walked into Josie’s, the restaurant where I worked nights. My heels clicked softly as I moved through the cozy space—gold accents, crystal chandeliers, and a quiet jazz drifting through the air.
I wove through the elegant setting, amid the patrons’ low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses. I nodded at a few familiar faces—regulars who’d waved at me with bright smiles on their faces.
“Hey, Lettie.” Audrey cornered me in the hallway. “Congratulations, I heard you’re finally free from college life.”
I stared at her for a moment before murmuring almost to myself. “Damn, word travels fast.”
“The magic of social media, darling,” she answered, giving her phone a slight wave.
“Right. Well, thank you.”
“Got any plans for later?”
“No, I don’t,” I said, walking past her.
“You’re no fun at all, you know that, right?” she called out teasingly.
“I know,” came my response as I made my way to theStaff Onlydoor.
I pushed it open, inhaling the mouth-watering aroma of sizzling meat, freshly baked bread, and melted butter. The atmosphere shifted from refined elegance to frenetic energy as I moved through the space. I exchanged brief pleasantries with the chefs, dressed in their crisp white attire, before finally reaching the staff room.
“You’re fifteen minutes late,” Damon said to me the second I walked in.
“Good evening to you.” I shed my jacket and draped it on the hanger.
“What happened?” he asked, a glint of suspicious curiosity flickering in her brown eyes.
I was hardly late to work, so I understood why he was asking. However, I couldn’t understand the look in both his eyes and James’s. James was standing by the table, his gaze pinned on me as if he were anticipating my response.
“Traffic,” I answered, shifting my glance between the two of them.
Damon stroked his jaw and cleared his throat. “So it had nothing to do with you celebrating your freedom from college?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Dang it,” he cursed under his breath.
James laughed from behind. “Told ya!” He stepped forward, stretching out his hand. “Now, pay up.”
Damon shook his head, then reluctantly withdrew some cash from his pocket.
“Nice doing business with you.” James snatched the money, counting the bills with a smug smirk on his lips.
“Hang on, did you guys bet on me?” I asked, my brows arched in disbelief.
“Oh, yes,” James answered, neatly tucking the cash into his pocket. “See, Damon over here insisted that you were running late because you got caught up celebrating your final exams.” He let out a dismissive scoff. “Like you of all people would ever be caught up in anything other than work.”
“Ouch. That didn’t hurt at all,” I replied, my voice laced with sarcasm.
Damon stepped forward and placed his hands on my shoulders. He let out a soft sigh and said, “It’s official; you’re allergic to fun.” He kissed the top of my head. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, congrats, Lettie,” James echoed.
We went back to work, and for the next two to three hours, everything was fine—nothing out of the ordinary. Until, of course, they arrived.
I was serving a table when the doors opened, and they walked in: four huge men in impeccably tailored black suits. In all my time working at Josie’s, I’d never experienced such immediate silence. The second these strange men walked in, the entire restaurant fell silent, and heads turned toward them.
