“Oh, is it a secret? Am I not supposed to know?”
“There’s nothing to know.”
“I wonder what his father would say if he found out his son’s screwing the help.”
My eyes narrow, that overwhelming rage clawing up my throat, and when I finally open my mouth, my voice is scary soft. “I’m only going to say this once, Christian. Stop. Stop with the games, stop with the innuendos, stop with the threats. Stop making me uncomfortable in my place of work and stop pressuring me. It’s cruel, and it’s pathetic, and I’m over it. And if you do it again, I’m reporting it.”
Christian’s face twists, and he looms over me, using our height difference as an intimidation factor. “Listen,Violet,” he sneers.“I’m not sure you understand what’s happening here. I have the power toruinyou if you don’t keep your stupid little slut mouth shut.”
“I think you need to take a step back, young man.” The new interruption comes from behind me, and I turn to see Randall Bishop standing a few feet away, a stern look on his face. Christian stumbles back, eyes widening when he realizes just who’s talking to him. “That’s no way to speak to a young lady.”
“I-yeah. I know. I mean, I didn’t mean it,” stumbles Christian, all the while staring at Randall with enormous, disbelieving eyes.
“Oh, just shut up,” snaps Randall, before looking at me. “Are you alright?”
I nod, blowing out a shaky breath. “I’m fine,” I tell him, surprised to find that it’s actually true. Normally, the waterworks would come after a confrontation like that, but I feel surprisingly composed right now. Composed and fuckingpissed.
Randall turns back to Christian, his face hard. “Apologize.”
Christian’s face twists with incredulity. “Apologize?” he laughs. “For what?”
Randall takes a step forward, and though he’s average in build and stature, there’s something so damn intimidating about the way he’s staring at Christian. “You know, I’ve watched you at the club since you were a child, Christian McCoy. You were a disturbance then, and you’re a disturbance now. A vulgar nuisance who drinks too much and makes too much noise. I hate noise. And I hate drunks. I don’t care how much money your daddy donated to this club. I’ve donated ten times the amount, so if you don’t apologize to this young lady and agree never to bother her again, I’ll get you and your father’s memberships revoked. Is that clear?”
Christian nods slowly, a look of shock on his face.
“I’m a bit hard of hearing,” says Randall, “but not that much. Is that clear, I asked?”
“Y-yes, Sir,” Christian stutters.
Randall nods. “Now. Apologize, and make it good.”
Christian turns toward me before clearing his throat, glancing uneasily at Randall before meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry, Violet. I won’t bother you again.”
“Anything you want to say to him, Violet?” asks Randall.
Normally, I would decline. Normally, I would shake my head and stay quiet. But today is the day that I’m done taking his shit. Today is the day I’m done takinganyone’sshit. “All I want is to do my job and make people happy,” I say evenly. “From the first day I started working here, you put a target on my back and made that as difficult as possible. I’m a waitress, Christian. Not a prostitute. I don’t have to flirt with you and go out with you. It’s not in my job description. And I know money doesn’t buy class, but maybe it could rent some respect? And I realize that this is probably going to go in one ear and out the other, but next time a new girl starts working here, it would be better for everyone if you weren’t such a complete and totaldick.”
“Well said, Violet,” says Randall. He points at Christian’s chest. “Next time you see this girl, you better tip her tenfold what you usually do. Now get lost.”
Christian doesn’t think twice. Without looking at me, he throws down his cigarette and stumbles off toward the dining room with his metaphorical tail between his legs.
I turn toward Randall Bishop, ready to thank him, but he holds up a shaky hand.
“Don’t,” he says. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to put that boy in his place since the day he got here.”
“I can’t believe you actually came to the club,” I say in pure disbelief over what just occurred.
“Well, I have a friend here now,” he says. “Didn’t take much convincing.” He winks at me and turns on his heel, shuffling toward the club entrance with his hands in his pockets.
I’ve never been more relieved to slip into the solace of my car. The second the door shuts, I let out a breath that morphs into a sob, because while it felt good standing my ground against Christian, pushing back against Landon hurt. It hurt more than I ever could have imagined, because my heart’s caught up in the mess. Because what I’m feeling right now is so much more devastating than anger and betrayal.
I never should have given away my heart to someone who could break it.
THIRTY-NINE
I never hated Sundays until now.
From the start of my shift, my head’s on a swivel. Every time someone enters the room, I tense, waiting for the inevitable appearance of Dr. Deceiver, Dr. Disappointment, Dr. Doesn’t-Matter-What-I-Call-Him-Because-It’s-So-Fucking-Over. It’s been nearly a week since the incident in the parking lot, and not nearly enough time to process everything.
