Chapter 19
Jason
Two hours have passed since I stepped into the restaurant and locked myself in my office, not wanting to be disturbed while I work on staff wages.
I’m too angry, too irritable to deal with anyone’s bullshit tonight, especially after seeing those damn ugly bruises on Mila’s wrists just before I left home.
I was so furious I had to fight the overwhelming urge to hunt down the fucker who did that to her.
Something in my gut told me something was wrong the moment she showed up at my doorstep, looking exhausted and run down.
Her eyes were sad and puffy, and the thick layer of makeup she wore, as if trying to hide something, made her look unlike her usual self.
I was ready to believe her when she said it was from a restless night’s sleep, but then I saw the handprint-shaped bruises, and in that instant, I knew she was lying.
That was no accident. Someone had physically hurt her, and I didn’t understand why she tried to hide it.
I still can’t shake the disappointment of knowing she didn’t trust me enough to confide in me—that she chose to lie instead.
Is she so afraid of the person who did that to her that she feels compelled to protect them?
Last night, before leaving my house, Mila seemed like her usual self—smiling, laughing, and joking around with Jake and me as we sat by the pool, eating pizza.
The only time I noticed a subtle shift in her mood was right after she received a text from Dean.
Now I can’t help but wonder—was he the reason for the bruises on her wrists?
All I know is this: if he is the one responsible, there’s no doubt—I’ll be out for blood.
His blood. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he’d never gotten involved with her.
My hands ball into fists, the pen nearly crushed between my fingers. A burning rage seethes inside me, flaring hotter with every thought of Dean hurting her. If I don’t get the fuck out of here soon, I’ll end up tearing this office apart.
Switching off my computer, I walk out of the room, making sure to lock the door behind me, and make my way towards the bar to see if Chris and Gemma need an extra hand tonight. I need something to distract me from the chaos swirling inside my head.
When I arrive at the bar, it’s instantly clear that Chris has everything under control.
He always does. The guy might act like a clown ninety percent of the time, but when it comes down to it, he’s always someone I can count on to get things done.
“What’s up, boss?” Chris shouts over the counter.
I take a seat on one of the vacant stools, giving a brief nod to Gemma over at the POS system, before turning my attention to Chris. “Not much. Thought I’d join you tonight if that’s cool?”
Chris shoots me a puzzled look, but nods anyway. “Only if you bring these lemon, lime and bitters over to table seven.” He smirks.
Without argument, I nod, grab the tray with the drinks, and head over to table seven.
After serving the beverages to the customers and telling them to enjoy the rest of their night, I quickly stroll back to the bar.
“How’s tonight going? Any dramas yet?” I ask my bar manager as I settle back onto my seat.
“It’s been busy but uneventful, thank God. Gemma’s only been hit on twice today, so that’s a new record.”
I glance over at Gemma who winks, and I can’t help but chuckle.
Since we stopped seeing each other after New Year’s Eve, Gemma and I have slipped effortlessly back into our old friendship.
There’s no awkwardness between us; in fact, she would often update me on some of her recent flings.
There was even a rumour that she and Chris hooked up one night after work.
But neither of them has yet to confirm or deny it.
To be honest, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their professionalism at work— they can do whatever they please.
“Well, if you guys don’t really need me here, I think I might head off and finish the rest of my work from home.”
“Everything okay?” Gemma asks.
“Yeah. I just can’t seem to focus tonight. I’ll probably get more shit done at home than in the office.”
“We got you covered, boss. We’re all good here,” he assures me. “But before you go, can you deliver these beers to table four?” he adds as he places three beers onto a tray.
“What am I? Your slave?”
The little shit winks at me then walks away to the back of the bar before I can argue. I carefully grab the tray and slowly make my way to table four.
As I approach the table, I notice a young woman with short, sandy-blonde hair laughing along with two men. When she looks up and smiles at me, I instantly recognise her from the few times she’s come here with Mila. She must be the best friend—Sofia.
Their conversation halts immediately as I set their drinks on the table. Sofia and the guy next to her smile and thank me, but when I turn to the guy across from them, my hands immediately tighten around the tray. Dean.
“Well look who it is,” he says, with a shit-eating grin as he slowly eyes me up and down. “Just the man we were talking about.”
“Oh yeah? Still going on about how I only hire young attractive women?”
“Not at all. We were just saying how Mila hardly hangs out with us on weekends anymore because she’s too busy babysitting your kid.”
I don’t miss the snarky tone in his voice at the mention of my kid. It only makes me want to knock his teeth out.
“Well if that’s an issue for her, she knows she can always tell me herself and I’ll be happy to give her some time off.”
“Mila doesn’t have a problem with it. She loves spending time with Jake. It’s really not a big deal?” The comment, directed at Dean, comes unexpectedly from Sofia.
“It is a big deal because she already has a lot on her plate, and this fucker”—he gestures at me with his thumb—“is overworking her like she’s his goddamn personal slave!”
I don’t know what comes over me—maybe it’s the adrenaline from seeing Mila’s bruises tonight, or maybe it’s just hearing his irritating voice, but before I can think, I drop the tray to the floor and grab Dean by the collar, yanking him up until we’re face to face.
Ignoring the commotion around us and Chris rushing over trying to pull us apart, I grip Dean’s shirt even tighter.
“Listen here, you little shit! If you weren’t in my place of business right now, I’d wipe that fucking smug grin off your face with my bare hands.
” I lean in closer so that only he can hear my words.
“And if I ever find out that you’re responsible for those bruises on Mila’s wrists, I promise, I will fucking destroy you. ”
Dean’s eyes widen, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows sharply. When he doesn’t say anything, I shove him back forcefully, sending him sprawling onto his arse on the ground. Sofia and the other guy rush to his side, trying to help him get back on his feet.
I shake my head in disgust, then give Dean one final, menacing look before pointing towards the door. “Now... get your filthy arse out of my restaurant.”