Page 11 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

Just then, the kitchen door opens again. I half expect another burly man, but the person who steps through the door is much smaller. And a woman.

But not justanywoman.

She looks a lot different than she did at the club, that’s for sure. Her dark hair is tied in a loose knot at the top of her head. She’s wearing a chef’s jacket and worn-out jeans, the outfit concealing her figure from view. Her brown eyes are filled with a weariness that wasn’t there in Las Vegas, and her lips are drawn into a frown.

But it’s her. It’s fuckingher.

Somehow, the gods of fate swung in my favor and sent her right back to me.

I can barely believe it.

Blake and Alex are saying something, but I can’t muster enough brainpower to focus on them. All I can see, all I can behold, is Charlie.

“You’re fired,” she’s hissing. There’s a new hardness to her voice. “More than that, you’re going to pay me back for every single thing you stole?—”

She suddenly stops talking, looking away from Troy and toward the doorway, noticing for the first time that she’s got customers. Her eyes meet mine, and blood drains from her face as recognition settles in.

The world collapses around us, leaving us alone. Westare at each other for what seems like hours. A slow smile breaks over my face, casting down the melancholy I’ve felt for the past few months. I know we’re both thinking the same thing.

Payback’s a bitch.

THREE

A DISH SERVED COLD (CHARLIE)

Paybackisa bitch.

It’s what Ken and I used to say when we watched movies and the villain got their comeuppance.

I’m living it now.

My world is crumbling around me, and the thoughts that are swirling in my head are moving at a million miles a second. The single most concerning thought is one that causes me to grow weak at the knees.

He knows.

He remembers what we did in Las Vegas. He tracked me down in my restaurant and is going to make me confess what I tricked him into.

It’s impossible to stop myself from trembling from head to foot, so I decide to do something more productive, like take in as much information as I can. Ken’s friends, Blake White and Alex Steinmann, are behind him. They have similar expressions of interest on their face, like he enlisted them to find me, and they just discovered their prey.

This is very, very bad.

“Are you guys staying for dinner?” Finally, Haley’svoice cuts through the silence. She sounds like the men have previously expressed interest in leaving.

Even if we’ve not had a customer all day, knowing they might be staying heightens my panic.Please leave,I pray silently.

“Sure,” Alex says.

My world crumples again.

He tugs on Ken, who’s still staring at me. The three men walk over to the farthest end of the restaurant and sit themselves almost out of my view. Haley bustles forward to take their order.

I pause, not knowing what to think. If Ken really came to bust me for Las Vegas, why isn’t he saying anything? What’s he waiting for?

The thoughts spiraling through my head are torturous. So much so that I almost forget about the awful situation I was dealing with before I saw Ken. But then Troy diverts my attention by letting out a loud huff.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he says in a much lower tone than before. “I’m going to go back to the kitchen and make whatever these gentlemen order. Going to forget all the trashy accusations you laid against me and forgive you for your rudeness. Thenwe can put this behind us.”

I stare at him, going from the depths of confusion to the heights of fury in just a moment. “Come again?”

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