Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Shut up. He’s not my type.” I turn away, grinding my jaw against that obvious lie.
“What, your type is… the opposite of tall, built, and stupidly hot? Plus rich based on that watch and the suit he had on.”
“Yes. It is. I like short, skinny, and poor guys.” I paused, tapping my cheek. “Actually, that sort of does describe Toby and Darren.”
“You do have a type. A really shitty one.” Bernie comes over and gives me a hug. “You should’ve told him all about your cute little nipples and—”
“You’re horrible.” I push her off, grinning. “But I do have cute nipples, don’t I?”
“I’d kill for your nips.” She cracks her knuckles and stretches. “Fuck, I’m tired. How about we open an hour late and take a nap instead?”
“Oh, you wanna lose an hour of pay, I guess?”
“You work me like a dog.”
“I am a very mean boss, I agree.” I laugh at her and we fall into our normal routine, getting everything ready for the day.
The rest of the staff filters in.
Fulco is first, grumbling and drinking strong black coffee. He heads straight into the kitchen and starts prepping for the evening. His dishwasher, Dominic, will show up in a few hours to help with the dinner rush.
Keely comes in next wearing sunglasses, a suitably low-cut top, and looking like hell. “Afterhours bars are the worst invention ever,” she groans.
Jamila’s last, looking and feeling about the same. “Please, Ash, put me out of my misery,” she whispers as she gives me a hug. “Sacrifice me to the hangover gods.”
“Seems like you sacrificed yourself,” I say, patting her back a little harder than necessary. “Come on, sit down, drink some coffee, you’ll be okay.”
I’m half-listening as Keely launches into the story of their night. Apparently, they met some Russian film executive that showered them in compliments and vodka. “Total weirdo,” Keely says, waving her hands in the air. “But, my god, so generous.”
“He tried to bring us home,” Jamila says, eyebrows raised. “Both of us.”
“He wasn’t even subtle! Said he’d pay us each a grand to fuck him for the night.” Keely glances over at Jamila. “I was tempted. I mean, you’re hot, Jams.”
“Thanks, hon,” Jamila says, blushing a little. “But he was a total freak.”
“We ditched him the second we left the bar. I mean, literally, we ran like our lives depended on it.” Keely frowns, tapping her chin. “It probably did.”
I sigh, exasperated. “Please don’t let strange Eastern European men buy you drinks and proposition both for a cash-funded threesome. When I was your age—”
“You were busy licking the floor of this crappy bar and working hard. Yeah, yeah, we know.” Keely rolls her eyes. “You’re only like six years older than me.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” I say proudly, chin tilted up. “Nearly a very adult thirty.”
“A little too adult,” Keely says, grinning at me. “Come on, Ash, don’t you ever want to go do stupid things?”
“Nope!” I heft a big black bag of trash onto my shoulder. “In fact, I love nothing more than being responsible. Hard work is my equivalent of… I guess, free vodka for you.”
“Doubtful!” Keely calls after me as I head out to the alley. “I love free vodka more than life itself!”
I slam open the dumpster lid with my shoulder and heft the bag inside. As the lid crashes down, I stand there a second, staring down at the dirty alley ground, thinking about what Keely said. She’s right—I’ve been living my entire life in the bar, taking care of it, running it, managing my people, growing the business—or mostly just surviving. I’ve barely had time for going out, for fun, and I’ve had a grand total of two serious boyfriends in the last decade.
Toby was my early twenties—he lasted two whole years. Then there was Darren, who lasted three years. I thought we were going to get married, but he disappeared on me the moment things got serious. I never did understand why he dumped me suddenly and moved out of state. Toby and I, we just grew apart—that stuff happens. But Darren? Even a couple years later, I still don’t get it.
Maybe Keely’s right and I need to loosen up. Maybe tonight I’ll go with them to the afterhours, have my usual glass of wine, skip the bath, and try to live a little. I nod to myself as I turn around, intent on heading back into Smoke to tell Keely that I am in fact very fun and I will prove it to her—
When I stop in my tracks.
Carson’s standing at the end of the alley.
I let out a shocked yelp before my hands fly up to my mouth. My heart’s racing wildly and I think I might pass out. He takes a step closer, looking concerned, but I hold a palm out.