CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CLASS IS IN SESSION
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CLASS IS IN SESSION
LUNA
My inner panic was for nothing. There wasn’t a flicker of recognition from either man. No lowered brows or tilted heads while they tried to place where they’d seen me before. Just friendly smiles.
A change of clothes, hair left down, and some makeup, and I’m in disguise. I’m beginning to understand how Superman got away with being Clark Kent.
“New bartender, right?” one asked. At my nod, he gestured to the side. “This is Andy. I’m Kodie.”
“I’m Lo,” I introduced.
Andy pointed, and I again braced for the ah-ha moment to ruin it all. But all he said was, “Harlow and Lo. That’ll be easy to remember.”
Kodie didn’t seem to care about the word play or anything else besides me—a new toy in the workplace dating pool. “If you get hungry during or after shift, come see me in the kitchen. I’ll hook you up.”
“Okay,” I lied. I would be getting food. The number of times items from the menu had randomly popped into my head was sad. But I wouldn’t go specifically to him unless it was for the case.
Bars and restaurants had their own unique ecosystem of socialization.
Most of the time, that ecosystem was built on flirting to pass the time, get priority treatment, apologize for messing up, or simply the desire to hookup.
That often led to hurt feelings, jealousy, and a whole ton of messy drama.
The last thing I needed was to make enemies because I encouraged attention from the wrong person.
Or worse, accusations of favoritism that put a target on my back and made it impossible for me to do either of my jobs.
I needed to walk the impossibly thin line between friendly enough to be included so I can hear the gossip that ran almost as rampant as the serial dating and withdrawn enough not to be the focus of said gossip.
Easy.
Or the opposite of easy, but whatever.
The guys continued on toward the kitchen, and Harlow waited until they were far enough away to warn, “That’s gonna happen a lot.”
“I know. I’ve got experience.”
“Being hit on? I don’t doubt that.”
I laughed. “No, working in bars. I know how it goes for anything with a pulse and the promise of breaking up the monotony.”
“Wow, did you attend the Rhys Walker School of Romance? You have the same cynicism.”
“Not cynicism. Realism. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a tattooed hottie with a laser focus that says the rest of the world ceases to exist.”
Her smile grew into a grin that quickly settled into a blissful look of contentment. I thought that was the end of it, but then her voice lowered again. “So the shared outlook is a coincidence and not because there’s something happening between you two?”
That time, it wasn’t just laughter. It was a cackle that burst out of me. “No.”
“Because I thought I caught a vibe.”
“The only vibe is him wanting me out of his hair.”
His gorgeous, luscious hair that I want to run my fingers through.
Her gaze went over my head as she weighed her words before tentatively voicing them. “If he flirted with you and it pissed you off, I get that. But a lot of his charm is just automatic from working in this kind of customer service.”
I wish he would flirt with me.
What?
No, I don’t.
I must be ovulating. I always get hormonal around then.
Do I ovulate with an IUD?
I should really know this.
Having no control over my inner thoughts was bad enough, but I must’ve been really off my game because my expression was far from the controlled, bland one I wanted.
My nose scrunched in disgust at myself.
And disgust that he was flirty and charming with everyone else, yet I got insults.
Harlow read my displeasure and rushed on. “Not that it makes it okay. Tell him it bothers you, and he’ll stop. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that you don’t have to read too much into it.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “Trust me. He has the tendency to put his foot in his mouth so much, I’m beginning to suspect he has a fetish or a kink.”
“He does, but not for feet. I don’t think, at least.” Her cheeks instantly flamed as red as her hair. “And we will ignore that I said that and remember that you’re a friend, and that’s why I’m chatty, so you can definitely still trust me.”
I wasn’t sure which part I was most caught on.
That Rhys did have a kink, or that Harlow called me a friend.
Calm down, Quasimodo, it’s not like this is the first friend you’ve ever had.
I let both go. “Don’t worry, I still trust you’re not taking notes for a featured segment. Be chatty with me all you want. It’s only fair. Your girl likes to yap.”
Her brows rose. “That’s surprising. You seem so… you know.”
“Serious? Angry? So uptight, you could stick coal up my butt, and it would be a diamond by dinnertime?”
“I was gonna say badass,” she said through laughter.
“I’m that, too. Professional-me and personal-me are very different.”
That was the truth. What I didn’t share was that only my family saw personal-me. Some people heard it, but that was different.
Like breaking out my mostly unworn wardrobe, having a reason to break out my equally unused personality was a lot of fun.
“I’m gathering that,” she said. “Let me show you my pre-shift routine.”
Unfortunately, we’d spent too much time chatting because we barely made it to the bar when Rhys filled the entryway to the hall. “Shift meeting in the kitchen.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll have time after,” Harlow reassured.
We hightailed it into the kitchen. The first half of that walk was rushed so I wasn’t the last to arrive and have all eyes shoot to me.
A nightmare in the making for so many reasons.
The last half was somehow speedier still as I rushed to find out what smelled so amazing. If I could’ve floated through the air to follow the scent cloud, I would have.
Harlow and I entered along with a small cluster of employees. It was the primo outcome because it allowed me to stay toward the back without looking like an antisocial bitch.
The rest of the kitchen staff left their stations to join the huddle. And joy of joys, Kodie didn’t come empty-handed.
“This everyone?” Rhys asked as he scanned his employees. His gaze hesitated on me before he eventually finished the visual sweep. “Since I know no one will pay a lick of attention to what comes outta my mouth till you get free food, I’ll let Kodie and Amara start us off.”
Kodie stepped forward with his metal tray and a set of tongs.
He spoke as he walked around to hand out samples.
“Cool. So the burger special today is a cheesy double-smashed with caramelized onions, garlic aioli, and this bacon that’s been candied with Dr. Pepper.
If you don’t wanna try it, cool. More for the rest of us.
But your customers are gonna ask what it tastes like.
Smoky. Sweet. Salty. And to balance the sweetness, Amara baked hot sauce-infused buns. ”
One of the women in the same tee and comfy pants the cooks wore broke off from the group.
She returned a second later, holding two reddish pastries that she handed to each side of the semi-circle.
“Rip a piece and pass it down. These were a pain in the ass to bake, so we have a limited amount. There’s a countdown on your order screen that’ll let you know when they’re gone.
Do me a favor, ask the customer which bread they want.
If we get a bunch of send-backs because their palate thinks bell pepper is spicy, I’m going to be annoyed. ”
I waited until I had both to eat them and nearly moaned from the taste.
Maybe I will have Kodie hook me up with snacks.
At the extended silence, I looked to the front to see Rhys’s focus on me. It was likely time for him to introduce me, and I was glad that he’d waited until I wasn’t stuffing my face.
When he started talking, though, it wasn’t about me.
“Look. I know last week freaked everyone out. It freaked me the fuck out, too. We know this city. We talk shit about this city but would throw down if some tourist talked shit about it. There’s good and there’s bad.
What’s inside this building is better than good.
And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let some prick ruin that.
So I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here, too. ”
“You paid us for the week,” someone said, earning quiet chuckles.
“True, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful you didn’t take that money and run. We’ve made a lot of upgrades to security. I’ve always said pair up when you’re walking to your car after shift, but that’s nonnegotiable now. Everyone gets a bouncer escort, got it?”
There was a murmur of acknowledgement from the group who all looked touched by the words he backed up with action.
I wasn’t even a real employee, and I wanted to get all misty-eyed.
From everything I’d garnered, none of what he’d said was performative bullshit. He was that good of a boss.
It added another unknown to my long list.
Why did he have such a hard time keeping employees?
My brain was a whirl as I scanned the group—my new coworkers—for any subtle signs of fear or discontent. I was so focused on them, I nearly missed the topic change.
“You might’ve noticed a pretty face around here,” he said.
And my discreet scanning turned to outright staring as I looked around for who he was talking about.
But he gestured right to me. He was calling me the pretty face.
Harlow did just warn me of his autopilot charm, but this seems like a bit much.
“This is Lo. She took pity on me and agreed to help out for a bit till I can get more staff in here.”
It was the perfect thing to say, but he didn’t leave it at that. Oh no. Because of-fucking-course he didn’t.
A wide grin split his face and made his dimples deepen to new, uncharted levels of attractiveness. “She’s also my girlfriend.”
A room full of wide eyes zeroed in on me.
Yup.
A nightmare.