Page 6 of Marked By Night

Apparently, it’s rude if you look at stupid people like they’re stupid.

Who knew?

“I’m sorry, sir, is something the matter?” I ask, my voice dripping with a sugary sweetness that I’m only capable of at work.

Customer service Sadie is a completely different bitch than regular Sadie.

The waves coming off him brush against my intuition, giving me goosebumps. Even sitting down, he’s almost as tall as me. Yet I’m not intimidated. Brutes like this are always slow, while I’m quick on my feet. Likely from the training I’ve been doing lately.

“Yes, ma’am. I need you to take this food back. I simply can’t eat it. The taste is horrid,” he says, scrunching up his nose. His voice carries across the dining room, making the last few patrons’ heads snap in our direction.

Nosey-ass people. I guess that’s small-town life for you.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I say again. “What’s wrong with it?” I eye the piece of fish he’s pointing to that’s nothing but crumbs.

“It’s too fishy!” he exclaims. “Fish. That’s all I can taste.” He makes another weird, scrunched face.

All I can do is stare at him, too stunned to react.

Did he—did I hear that right? Too fishy. How on earth isfishtoo fishy?

He waves his hand over his plate again when I don’t react, and I grit my teeth. If this guy thinks this shit is going to come out of my paycheck, he’s got another thing coming. Yes, Cruze makes us pay for orders when something is wrong. Pretty sure it’s illegal, but he does it anyway.

“Are you paying attention? I’ve given you a complaint. I demand an apology and my meal to be taken care of.” He watches my reaction carefully. I don’t give him anything. “Maybe I should call your boss over if you’re only going to stand here.”

Dammit, if Cruze comes over then my ass is toast.

“That won’t be necessary,” I say, reaching into my apron pocket to dig out his ticket, and check it over. Looky there, he did order fish. “I’m afraid you did order the fish plate, sir. I’m not quite sure why you’re upset.” His eyes narrow at my tone. Shoot, I’m losing him, lighten up a bit. “Because if it were me, I’d expect a fishy taste.”

Oops. So much for lightening up.

“You little bitch,” he hisses, kicking his chair back out of the way.

The loud clang reverberates through the dining room, and the people at the table behind us gasp but don’t move to get out of the way. Too engrossed in the show.

“First, you kick my son out without giving him a proper meal and now you’re going to treat me like this?”

His son? Who the—

“Oh, you mean the jock kid from earlier. He didn’t have any money. No money equals no service. Or have you forgotten that?”

His face starts to turn red and I sigh. Now I’ve done it.

“How dare you speak to me that way! Don’t you know who I am? My family is on their way to the big leagues,” he snaps. If his nose were any further in the air, it’d be in the clouds.

My sugary smile falls as I drop the act, fed up with his attitude. “Not with that crap dye job, fake suit, and watch you’re not.”

I cannot stand people like this. With their,I’m better than you attitude.I’ve got news for you, buddy. We all end up in the ground someday.

“You’re going to pay for this, little girl,” he says as the vein in his temple bulges.

Why do men always think the word little is an insult? I may be short, but dynamite comes in small packages, baby.

His large hand snakes out toward my neck, and my training kicks in. I drop, ducking under his meaty hand as I reach up and jab him in the throat with my thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an L with enough force to make him rethink his decision. His ruddy cheeks are so red with rage they’re almost purple as he splutters, reaching for my neck again like he wants to wring the life out of me.

Too bad I like my life right where it is, thank you.

Realizing I’m too fast, the man switches gears, snatching his plate of food off the table. My eyes widen as he tosses it at me, and I step out of the way.

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