Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“And yet, here we are.”
He thinks for a moment, his shifty eyes darting about as he tries to get on my good side. “I’m sorry, Massimo.”
“What has she done that’s got you so worked up about her?” I ask, not interested in his apologies.
“She can’t pour a drink. She spills shit on customers. And on her first night, I caught her coming out of an occupied peep show looking all hot and bothered. If there’s one thing we shouldn’t tolerate, it’s staff getting off for free.”
My interest in this conversation has suddenly piqued.
So my little monster likes to watch.
My cock is showing some interest too.
Bianca looking hot and bothered as she flees a peep show is something I wouldn’t mind seeing.
“Did you discuss this with Bianca?” I ask.
“I told her she isn’t to visit the arcade.”
“And has she been into the arcade since you told her not to?”
“No.”
“Then where is the problem?”
He frowns. “I don’t like her. She’s up to something. Something just doesn’t feel right. You need to fire her ass.”
Sometimes Dario doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.
I suddenly wonder if he’s hit on her and she’s turned him down.
No, he wouldn’t go there with her because he knows she’d probably knee him in the balls for trying.
I cock an eyebrow at him. “You’re telling me how to run my business now?”
Again, Dario’s eyes widen with fear. “I’m sorry, Don Massimo. I mean no disrespect.”
“So you keep saying. How about we clear this matter up right now so you can fuck off and leave me to continue with more important matters. Bianca is here until I say she isn’t, got it? Just like you are—which is looking like it might not be very long if you keep coming to me with this shit. Have I made myself clear?”
Dario pales. “Yes, Don Massimo.”
“Good, now get the fuck out of my sight and go do your fucking job.”
He retreats out of my office and I lean back in my chair.
Bianca might still be the enemy but I’ll be fucked if I let some squirrely piece of shit talk smack about her.
12
BIANCA
It’s another busy night, and again, I struggle to keep up. As usual, I fuck up one order after another, and even manage to tip a dirty martini down the shirt of an actor whose face is familiar but whose name escapes me. He laughs it off, but it just adds to the big pile of stupid I already feel. I have to face it, I suck at this job. But I’m not going to let it beat me.
If I want to eat, I have no choice.
I feel him the moment he walks in. But I suspect everyone does. He’s like an approaching storm, dark and ominous and thrumming with insurmountable power.
Massimo’s wearing black pants and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, revealing two forearms covered in tattoos. When he walks, it’s with the confidence of a man who knows he is king.
Women and men alike turn to watch him as he walks deeper into the club and takes a seat in one of the booths.
Natalie collides with my shoulder as she reaches for the ice scoop. “Less perving and more serving.”
Whatever.
I turn to my next customer who orders two glasses of a ridiculously expensive whiskey for himself and the cheapest bottle of sparkling wine for his date. He’s all expensive suits and heavy cologne, while she’s as pretty and sweet as they come.
“It’s supposed to be date night,” she says, looking crestfallen. “Surely we can indulge a little. I’ve never had real champagne before. Perhaps I can tonight?”
“Darling, when you bring home the bacon, you can have anything you like from the top shelf,” he says in a voice dripping with condescending bullshit. “Until then, you get what I give you.”
He’s a jerk.
And going by her dejected expression, this isn’t the first time.
I slide his two glasses of Macallan across the bar and turn to retrieve her champagne. Except I don’t get the cheaper sparkling. I grab her a bottle of the expensive stuff. Real champagne that makes you hear angels sing with every mouthful.
“That’s not what I ordered,” the jerk growls.
“No, but like your very lovely date said, it’s date night. And around here, that means something, so it’s on the house.” I give her a wink and she smiles brightly.
But the jerk balks at the offer and decides to be a dick and look the gift horse in the mouth. “That’s ridiculous. What moronic business gives away a free bottle of expensive champagne? It’s easily a hundred-dollar bottle.”
I nod toward the two glasses sitting on the bar between us. “It’s the same price as those two whiskeys.”
He doesn’t appreciate the innuendo. “Does your boss know you give away hundred-dollar bottles?”
“Of course not. If my boss knew what was happening, he’d throw you out for being a dick. He treats the ladies how they’re meant to be treated; it’s why all the ladies love him. Me, I’m half your size, so throwing you out seems like a lot of effort. Besides, your date looks like she could do with a fun night out, so I’m going with the free-bottle option instead. But those whiskeys, they’re not free, mister, so that’ll be a hundred dollars please. Cash or card?”