Chapter 15
The lunch rush always brought customers who handed out the best tips, and Lydia had learned early on that a smile went a long way to getting the cash to flow her way.
She wasn't flirting, not really, but she knew how to lean in, laugh at the right moments, and make the customers, especially the old-timers, feel like they were still charming.
Hannah called it "strategic sweetness."
Madison called it "survival."
She called it "freedom."
The more money she saved, the more independent she became. Her goals weren't lofty. She never dreamed of owning a car or a house. She thought of getting out on her own and paying rent, buying clothes, and having food to eat. Until now, she never had the chance to live independently.
Now, the room above the diner belonged to her.
One person was responsible for where she lived, her new job, and even her ability to take care of herself. She owed Baddy.
But that was not why she had sex with him. It wasn't.
She balanced three plates on her left arm, dropped them off at a booth full of truckers, and winked when one of them told her she was "a breath of fresh air." He tipped her five bucks before he even started eating. She pocketed it with a quiet thank-you and moved on.
Hannah slid past her with a tray. "Girl, you're killing it today."
"Trying," Lydia said, grabbing a pot of coffee.
Madison joined them at the counter, tying her apron tighter. "Trying? You're practically flirting with half the room."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "I'm being friendly."
"Friendly gets you a dollar," Madison said. "Flirty gets you five. Something...or someone has put you in a good mood."
Lydia snorted instead of denying. That morning with Baddy had put her in a good mood.
Despite being twenty years old, she had only had sex with one other person. At eighteen, she'd made the mistake of believing in a prospect when he talked pretty to her and bought her gifts. After sleeping with him for a month, she found another girl in his bed.
She chalked it up to having learned a big lesson, knowing better than to act like her mom around bikers.
Baddy was probably no different. He made no promises.
There were no sweet exchanges. They came together because they shared a moment.
They were both healthy adults with a sexual appetite.
She wanted to pretend, just for today, that he wasn't using her.
That he was right there in bed with her, wanting her, enjoying her.
She was halfway to refilling a cup when the bell over the door chimed, and she glanced across the diner.
Her body reacted before her brain believed what she was seeing. Heat rushed up her neck, stomach tightening, and her breath became trapped in her throat.
Baddy.
He walked in like he owned the place. Broad shoulders, dark hair, that unreadable expression aimed at her that made her feel seen and exposed all at once.
Her heart thudded painfully. There was no way she could walk without falling flat on her face.
It was almost as if she could feel his hands on her hips, his mouth on her skin, the way he looked at her almost convinced her that she was something he wanted, not something he'd used.
She didn't know if that morning meant anything to him. Didn't know if she was supposed to pretend it hadn't happened. Didn't know if she was supposed to act normal or avoid him or—
God, she didn't know anything.
She wanted to convince herself that sleeping with Baddy was nothing more than a moment, an experience, a mistake, or a one-morning stand.
Because she refused to be like her mother, she played it cool. She squared her shoulders. She was mature and could handle him.
But then why did her chest feel warm?
Why was she excited to see him?
Why was her stomach fluttering?
She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep moving, to keep working, to keep pretending she wasn't falling apart inside.
But instead of coming to her, Baddy walked straight to Patty.
Patty looked up, surprised to get singled out, then nodded and motioned him toward the back.
Lydia's stomach dropped. He hadn't come to see her.
Her boss and Baddy disappeared into the kitchen, where customers weren't allowed.
She inhaled deeply, shaking off her reaction to him. Why was he here?
She refilled coffee at two booths and returned to the counter when the kitchen door swung open again. Patty came out first. Her mouth was pinched into a thin line.
Patty's gaze found Lydia and quickly looked away. Lydia frowned. Her boss was upset.
Baddy followed her out, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
Lydia's breath caught.
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Lydia tried to keep her hands steady as she wiped down the counter, but her pulse wouldn't slow. Patty's frown still lingered in her mind, like a warning she wasn't allowed to hear.
And the worst part was that she didn't know if it had anything to do with her job... or with Baddy. Maybe it had to do with her having sex with him.
Maybe she wasn't allowed to get involved with a Royalla member. Maybe there were contingencies with her taking a job at the diner.
She kept her head down, pretending to refill sugar jars, pretending she wasn't watching them out of the corner of her eye.
Baddy approached the counter.
Her stomach twisted so hard she almost dropped the sugar jar. She forced herself to stand still, to breathe, to not blurt out every terrified question clawing at her throat. She looked at his chest, unable to look him in the eyes as he gave her bad news.
Was she getting fired?
Did Patty want her gone?
Did Baddy regret this morning?
He leaned closer. Close enough that she could smell the faint scent of leather and soap clinging to him. Close enough that her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.
She opened her mouth, then shut it without saying anything. She was afraid to ask. Afraid of the answer.
Baddy gently swept a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was soft, careful, almost tender. It made her knees wobble.
"Leave the window on the fire escape open after you get off work," he said quietly.
Her breath hitched. "Why?"
"I need to talk to you."
His voice was low, serious. Personal. Intimate.
Before she could ask anything else, he stepped back. And walked out of the diner.
The bell over the door chimed once, then fell silent. Lydia stood frozen behind the counter, heart pounding, hands trembling. She wasn't fired.
Patty wasn't going to kick her out. But she was no closer to knowing what was wrong.
He spoke as if her whole world was about to shift. She just didn't know which way it would fall.