Page 15 of Roar & Lizzy: A Forever Kind of Love

Chapter 5

"Roar," shouted Brage, his vice president. "The blonde you hired is inside the bar asking to speak with you."

Roar put down the hammer. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty." Brage held open the door of the clubhouse.

"Damn." He walked over and wiped his face off with a towel.

He'd meant to be at the bar early. While last night was a test run that the Slag members were more than willing to help out with, he wanted to make sure he had a couple men set up to keep an eye on everything tonight as customers walked off the street to try The Fire Ring. He wouldn't leave the employees unprotected.

He punched Brage on the shoulder. "Feel free to finish putting the sheetrock on that half wall."

Brage walked into the clubhouse as Roar strolled out.

By the time he crossed the alley, the music from inside the bar had reached him. He pushed through the door, went down the hallway, and peered through the open doorway of the breakroom.

All the women, except Lizzy, were inside talking, not paying any attention to him. He continued on, going past the kitchen, and entered the main room.

Lizzy stopping straightening one of the tables and turned toward him. He took in the new style of uniform, approving on the spot. The form-fitting T-shirt with the rolled sleeves and cutoffs were picked with her body in mind.

She hurried over, her gaze flickering everywhere but at him.

His wait to find out her problem was short lived.

"I went home after work last night and counted my tips." She leaned in closer. "There was a little over a thousand dollars in my apron pocket. One thousand and thirty-six dollars, to be exact."

He studied the intensity in which she gazed at him, trying to figure out why that would be a problem. "There were a lot of orders last night."

"No, there were a lot of your friends here, making orders for you. There was no grand opening. Nobody off the street walked in." She flattened her palm against her forehead. "The Fire Ring wasn't officially open, so why would you let your friends tip me?"

"You worked and earned that money." He shrugged. "Do you think I'd open up a business without letting my employees figure out what works best on how to serve the customers? To see if the new equipment in the kitchen worked properly? To make sure my servers could handle a crowd?"

Her neck stiffened and her head went back. "Last night was a test?"

"One that you passed." He looked at her. "You were impressive. Despite the demands and not working with the other women before, you kept the Slag members happy, and that's not always an easy task, I know. Tonight should be easy, and slower."

"Tonight's not a test?" she asked.

He shook his head, amusement hitting him at the relief coming over her expression.

She blew out her breath and turned slightly as she absorbed all he told her. He enjoyed the side view.

"Is that all you needed?" he asked.

She glanced at him. "Yes, and although I can see why you'd test us, there might've been a better way to go about doing it. Just so you know."

"Is that right?" He rubbed his jaw through his beard.

Yes." She smoothed the tiny apron covering the front of her shorts.

"Ja." At her gaze narrowing in confusion hearing him speak Norwegian, he left the room, leaving her wondering.

She proved herself as someone who could run the show at The Fire Ring. That pleased him.

Honest and worried about being overpaid, she seemed genuinely upset when he'd entered the room. At the kitchen door, he looked back at Lizzy. She held on to her bottom lip with her teeth, but there was a smile under the surface.

His mood lightened. He'd made her happy.

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