Page 26 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
I raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “Amy’s a bartender. She works for us, you know.”
Nicole shrugs nonchalantly. “I know. She’s good at her job. And I can tell she’s got a good sense of humor.”
I glance over at Nicole, confused by her nonchalant attitude. “Youreallylike her, don’t you?”
Nicole chuckles softly, not looking at me as she reaches for her coat. “Who knows? She’s fun.” She turns to face me. “If you can do it, why can’t I do it?” She tosses me a wink.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, my eyes meeting hers. “I guess that’s only fair.”
We both share a soft smile, though the moment feels a little too loaded. Before I can say anything more, Nicole turns to leave.
“Just be careful, Noah,” she says over her shoulder, a slight grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “This is getting interesting, don’t you think?”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The weight of the situation is heavier than I’m willing to admit. I don’t know that I want to pick up the load and carry it, and the thought is strangely depressing.
Chapter Nine
Blossom
The bar is packed tonight.
A large conference is in full swing at the hotel, and the guests are here to unwind after a day of presentations and meetings.
Their chatter and laughter fill the air, and I can feel the pulse of the evening. I’m moving quickly behind the bar, sliding glasses in and out of the fridge, pouring liquor, and mixing cocktails with the precision of someone who’s been doing this for a while now.
Five drinks at once? No problem. I line up the glasses: two martinis, a gin and tonic, a mojito, and a whiskey neat. I work fluidly, mixing, shaking, pouring, all while keeping a smile plastered on my face.
The guests are always appreciative of a good bartender, and I’m happy to oblige.
It’s been a few weeks since I started working full-time at the Hudson Hotel, and things are starting to fall into place. The tips are decent, better than I expected, actually, but living in Manhattan means it never feels like enough.
I’m still barely getting by, still stretching every dollar as far as it’ll go.
Rent is high, food is expensive, and despite the tips, I’m always just one unexpected bill away from being behind.
But for tonight, at least, I push those thoughts away and focus on making the next round. I hand over the whiskey neat with a smile. A couple of guests cheer for their drinks, and I can’t help but feel a little proud.
This? This is the life I’m carving out for myself.
I’m reaching for a bottle of bourbon when the phone rings. It’s loud behind the bar, and no one else seems to hear it, so I sigh and step away to grab the receiver.
“Hudson Hotel, how can I help you?” I say, trying to keep my voice friendly despite the exhaustion in my limbs.
I hear a pause on the other end, then a voice Iimmediatelyrecognize speaks up.
“Blossom?” The voice is unmistakable, gruff and familiar in all the wrong ways.
Zack.
My loser ex-boyfriend from back in Carteret, Zack.
My heart drops into my stomach.
The knot in my chest tightens. What the hell is he doing calling the hotel?
I don’t have time for this. I don’t want to hear him, don’t want to feel the anger and disgust that come with his presence in my life.
