Chapter 3
Chapter Three
I give Cali a quick wave as I pass the blackjack pit where she’s dealing this week, and walk up the few steps to the Mont Belle Lounge.
The few encounters I had with Lewis almost seem like they never happened.
I haven’t thought about him in days. Well, not much, anyway.
And I haven’t seen him. Which is a good thing, because his presence confused me, and I don’t need that in my life.
“Execs are coming in for some kind of meet-and-greet,” the waitress standing across from the bartender tells me.
Her name is Amber and she’s not handing off the lounge to me at the beginning of my shift like normal.
“They need two of us for the party.” She pops a maraschino cherry in her mouth and chews while she talks.
“I’ve got tables one through ten. You can have eleven through twenty, except fifteen. That customer’s mine until they leave.”
Like most Blue waitresses, Amber is pretty, with tawny, highlighted hair and blue eyes. She doesn’t look older than me, but she’s worked here a while. She has seniority, and that trumps all.
I glance at my area, located at the rear of the bar with the least amount of foot traffic. The only table occupied is the one Amber wants—and they have a bottle of Dom Pérignon.
Of course.
Dom sells for a couple hundred a bottle. The party will likely order another and Amber doesn’t want to miss out on a lucrative tip, even if technically she should hand over all my tables.
Sometimes I feel like I’m back in junior high. Everyone at Blue is out for themselves, cutthroat for popularity, or in this case, access to deep pockets.
It ends up not mattering. Executives soon jam Mont Belle, filling the tables, including my lowly ones in the rear. I’m happily adding up the tips I’ve earned so far and mentally applying it to my grad school fund, when the last person I want to see walks in.
I freeze, my heels sinking into the carpet. The A-hole, my two-timing ex, makes his way over, his pale hair purposely tousled, his too-far-apart eyes glinting like he sees something he likes. And yes, he walks like he’s got a rod up his ass. Thanks, Mom, for that mental image.
“Hey.” He checks out my uniform from top to bottom. “You look great. Didn’t know you were working here this summer.”
My throat clenches. Somehow, getting checked out by my ex is worse than from a stranger. “What are you doing here?”
“Just hanging with the boys. No girls allowed… unless you want to join us?”
He cannot be serious.
I never called him out on his two-timing. He probably believes I’d go back to him. “I’m busy.”
His gaze dips to my chest and holds for an overlong moment. “You sure?”
The A-hole has never seen my boobs in the light. There’s a possibility I was uptight with him in the sexual department. I can see how the girls served up on a platter—thanks to my stupid uniform—would be an ogling opportunity too tempting to pass up.
I still want to slap him. He screwed me over and he thinks he can waltz in here and pick me up?
I grind my teeth, mentally forming a cutting, ranting, screw-off reply—which takes too long because I’m no good at it—when Jaeger strides in.
I totally get why Cali flirts with Jaeger. He’s tall and built, and sort of difficult to miss.
Jaeger sweeps around and hugs me from behind, his mouth near my ear. “Play along. I’m your boyfriend until this loser takes off.”
I sag into his arms. Yes. The gods are watching over me today.
Cali was right. Jaeger and Mason are decent guys.
Jaeger lays it on heavy, nuzzling my neck. I’m trying not to laugh out of nervousness, and because Jaeger’s tickling the hell out of my skin. The A-hole’s face turns a purplish-red and he shifts from foot to foot, his jaw clenched.
“You think you can get away for a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon?” Jaeger whispers as if we’re just hanging, drinking a beer, not trying to make my prick of an ex-boyfriend uncomfortable enough to leave. “There’s something I want to show Cali, and you’re her best friend. I want your approval.”
Wait—hold up. Jaeger and Cali flirt, but is he serious about her? Cali and her jerk boyfriend just broke up a few days ago, so she is single now. This could be so awesome.
I nod and smile lovingly at my not-a-boyfriend for my ex’s benefit, who is still here. Persistent much? Delusional?
“I’ll pick you up at lunchtime,” Jaeger says loudly.
The A-hole grunts and stomps off. Both of us ignore him, but the second he’s gone, Jaeger releases me, dropping his lover-like stance.
“That was amazing,” I say. “How did you know to do that?”
His gaze flickers to Cali, who’s observing us from the pit. Is she upset? She looks upset. Jaeger flashes a broad smile my way. “Cali said you didn’t want that guy around.”
“Not at all. Thank you. I owe you one.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. His eyes flicker to the side without quite catching on Cali this time. “But I could use your opinion. I was serious when I asked if you’re available tomorrow.”
“Totally, anything you want.”
“Great, except—um—maybe don’t mention it to Cali? I mean, she’ll know we’re going somewhere, but if you could keep what we do between us, I would appreciate it.”
“Okay.” Very mysterious, but whatever this is, it’s for Cali and I’ll help any way I can.
Jaeger takes off and I return to work, but my mind isn’t in it.
It felt good to unleash some payback on my ex.
True, I had help. Okay, a lot of help, but still, I’m fired up.
I don’t like to think I cower before men, but the truth is, I tend to avoid confrontation with guys—disregarding warning signs and discovering too late that the A-hole had a girlfriend back home being a case in point.
I’m probably scarred from not having a father figure. Excellent.
A sharp pause in the atmosphere has my mind snapping to attention. The man I just served is staring, an indulgent smile playing along his lips. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, what?” Jesus, get it together. Bad enough I let a guy nuzzle me during my shift. Executives are in the lounge. I need to keep my head in the game. These people could be the ones signing my paychecks.
“I asked your name.”
This man looks familiar. He’s wearing a loosened blood-red tie and white dress shirt, as though he just left his glass-encased office.
I’m sure I’ve seen him in the lounge before.
Good looking and young. Older than me, but not as old as the suits I typically serve.
The man he’s with is equally put together, and they are totally out of place in my section at the rear of the bar.
But between the executive meet-and-greet and our regulars, they didn’t have much choice.
“I’m Gen.”
His gaze slides over the length of me, then returns to my eyes. A calculating smile pulls the corners of his lips. “Jennifer?”
My shoulders curl in. “No, it’s Genevieve.”
“Where’re you from, Genevieve?”
“Dawson. I just graduated.” Dawson’s only a couple of hours away. Most people around here have heard of it.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Drake Peterson, head of finance.” Literally signing my paychecks and I was zoning out in front of him. “How do you like working at Blue? Everyone treating you well?”
“They’re great.” No way am I telling this guy about the waitress pettiness.
“Good, well, maybe you’ll stay on. Some of the waitresses have been here a while, but with the right connections you can do well.” His gaze drops to my chest again. Gah.
Between my ex and now Drake, I’m being tested, I swear.
“Thank you. So far, I’m doing okay.”
In reality, I could use a break to regroup after the A-hole encounter. I glance at the time on my watch, which I remembered to wear for once. I typically rely on my iPhone, but given I can’t squeeze anything more than boobs and ass in this uniform, I’m rolling old school.
I serve a few more customers and check in with Amber.
She scowls as I give her the rundown before going on break.
She’ll have to take over my crap section for a while, which means more work, less money, and she’s understandably unhappy about it.
Even with the exec overflow, the majority of my clients are low tippers, but Amber will just have to deal.
On my way out, I notify my tables I’m leaving. “Amber will be your new server,” I tell Drake and his friend. “Is there anything I can get you before I go?”
“You’ve taken good care of us, Genevieve.” Drake reaches inside his coat pocket. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.” He hands me a business card, a thick gold band with a dark sapphire glinting on his finger.
I mumble, “Thank you,” and walk away, shaking off the dirty feeling he gives me.
I peer across the floor before stepping down from the lounge and spy Cali beside Zach. They’re busy shuffling and counting, or whatever it is they do, the pit boss hovering like a guard dog. I don’t want to get Cali in trouble, but I’d love to vent about the A-hole.
Cocktail waitresses move in and out around the blackjack tables, taking orders and clearing glasses.
Nothing unusual about me going over there—unless the person serving Cali’s table sees me.
A senior waitress might think I’m trying to steal customers and decide to haze me with something other than princess references.
The things I stress about on this job—seriously junior high.
Screw it. I walk up to Cali’s table and wait off to the side.
One of her customers leaves and I flag her through the hole in the crowd, mimicking biting into a sandwich.
I gesture to the basement entrance and she nods stiffly—which is odd.
Cali is laid-back. I’m the uptight one in our duo. Is she stressed?
The place is packed tonight. Understandable if she can’t meet me, but I hope she does. The A-hole’s presence is cause for a best-friend gossip session.
On my way to the employee door, I run into Nessa. “Hey there,” I say with a smile. “What are you up to?”