Page 61 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“Yo, you good?” he says, amused. “You want me to cover it? I got you, fam.” His wink’s even cockier than the waitress.

Andrew shoots a shut-the-fuck-up glare.

But under the table, his wallet’s out.

Only a ten. Barely enough for the tip.

I step in front of Andrew, blocking Ricky. “WiFi could be actin’ up or some shit,” I say, sliding a folded bill into his lap under the table, my hand still shaking. “This is why you always carry cash.”

His gaze falls weak. “Allison⁠—”

“No, I gotta disappear for five minutes.”

“Disappear for five?” he says, a little disappointed. “You really about to walk off and handle that solo?”

A wayward laugh slips out of me.

“Yeah. I am. And if you tip her more than twenty percent after she put her hands all over you? That’s how you’ll be leavin’ this bar.”

I’m gone before he has a chance to get a word in, Little Death taunting me with every step.

But when I reach the hall,

I glance back at Andrew.

He’s staring down at the hundred,

humiliation in his fist,

knee bouncin’ uncontrollably.

Instead of disappearing into the bathroom, I tuck myself behind the frame, arms crossed, watching as he pulls his phone from his pocket, taps quick across the screen, then slides on his glasses as he stands.

He fixes his crewneck, those perfect shoulders flexing under cotton, eyes sweeping the floor.

The waitress is standing behind the taps.

He heads that way and calls her aside with a nod that says—we’re gonna talk.

As she walks over,

Andrew sinks a hand in his pocket,

standing with that lazy, Jersey lean.

I can’t hear the first thing she says,

but soon as Andrew opens his mouth,

the smile drains from her face.

“You crossed a line.

“Hands on a customer?

“While you’re on the clock?”

His thumb hooks back at the table.