Honestly, the only reason I work here is the money.
Waitressing in my twenties wasn’t exactly on my bingo card.
But neither was becoming an orphan at seventeen.
My life changed in a matter of moments when I got the call from the hospital that rainy night.
Moving from small-town California to LA was the only thing that made sense, even if it meant waiting tables and batting my naturally long, dark eyelashes for cash.
For the record, I’m not an eyelash batter. It’s just another unavoidable part of the job that keeps my electricity on and my diet one ladder rung above microwavable Ramen.
I open my booklet and cash falls out of it onto the floor.
“Damn, girl,” Lainey says, bending to help me pick up a few dollars. “You banked tonight.”
“Yeah well, the suits at table nine were easy money,” I say.
“Does that mean you’re coming out tonight?” she asks, and I snort.
“No way,” I shake my head.
“Girl! You never come out!” Lainey whines. “I think you forget that you’re young and attractive.”
“And you forget I work two jobs, and the other one starts in less than eight hours,” I remind her.
“Ah, yes. How is your sex-god of a day boss doing, anyway?” She teases.
I roll my eyes, the heat rising in my cheeks. “Sexy as he was the last time you asked.”
“Does he know you exist yet?” she asks.
“Nope,” I say.
“I don’t get it. How can you work at his house, cooking for him, cleaning for him, washing his laundry and making his bed, and him not notice you?”
“Easy,” I say. “One, he’s a millionaire, and I’m a housekeeper. And two…I don’t make his bed.”
“Still,” Lainey says as we make our way to the computer to clock out. “Surely there is something you can do to get his attention.”
“I don’t want to get his attention,” I tell her. “With my luck, it would be negative attention. Besides, if he was always watching me, it would make it harder for me to check him out all the time.”
Lainey giggles and tugs her wig off, stuffing it into her bag. “Well, wedding bells won’t be ringing soon, so come out with me tonight. One drink. One dance. Then you can go home and get all the beauty sleep forDominic.”
I shove my friend playfully, and she giggles.
“Are you two done acting like middle school girls?” Brynn asks. “Some of us worked doubles and want to get out of here.”
“Oh, Brynn?” Niko calls over, shaking his head. “You’re on inventory tonight. Did you forget?”
Brynn glares at him. “Did you forget I can’t work late tonight?”
“I told you three times, Nik. I’m catching a redeye to San Francisco tonight.”
“I don’t remember,” Niko says, his tone dripping with indifference. “What’s in San Francisco? I need you on inventory now. You know that.”
“It’s a family emergency,” she says impatiently. Brynn is the head bartender and everyone’s favorite waitress. She’s also the only one who has the balls to talk to Niko like that. Girls kill for jobs at bars like this, and to Niko, we are more expendable than toilet paper.
“Let me guess, someone died?” he asks.
