Page 194 of Waiting Game

“How’s the turnover?”

She frowns at me. “Why are you asking?”

“Because we’re about to hit November and I stopped…” I clear my throat, not willing to finish that sentence when Burrows’s in the car. “You know. And I’m not going to be able to figure skate for a while.” I’m skating more than I ever have with these daily classes on top of practice. “I need to rest up. How are your savings looking?”

“Turnover’s improving.” Her gaze is soft as it settles on me. “Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I do,” I grouse, but I snag her hand in mine, raise her fingers to my lips, and press a kiss there. “I don’t want you working yourself to the bone.”

“That’s what you gotta do to survive in this city.”

My nose crinkles.

It wouldn’t if you’d let me keep on paying you…

Not that I say those words aloud.

I do value my balls.

See above:Mum didn’t raise no fool.

My classes don’t even cover a quarter of what I originally paid her, so when the money from her time as my private cam girl runs out, I’m going to have to do something.

I may still be sticking to our original agreement and I haven’t told Gracie yet, but it’s only a matter of weeks until I do.

And for the first time in months, though Gracie will have stuck a death threat on me for betraying her, I’ll be able to breathe easyandplan accordingly.

CHAPTER 37

MIA

“What are you doing here, Jason?”I demand as I walk into the bar later than usual thanks to an overrunning kissing session with Cole at his apartment.

Jason beams a smile at me. “I figured you were messing, Mia.”

“Why would you ‘figure’ that?” is my cool retort.

He flushes and, around him, the barflies he hangs with duck their heads as they focus on the screen in front of them. “I’ve been drinking here for years!”

“And? You’ve been mistreating staff for all that time too. Chuck let you pull those stunts but I’m not Chuck. I gave you plenty of warnings?—”

“What warnings?” he bites off.

“If you chose not to heed them,” I continue like he didn’t speak. “…then that’s on you. Not me.”

His nostrils flare. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Sure I can. It’s my name on the license. I can do whatever I damn well please.”

He jerks to his feet so fast that his stool tips onto the tiles with a slam. “You won’t get away with this.”

“You come in again,” I snap, “and I’ll call the cops.”

When he smashes his bottle of beer on the floor, I don’t even bother wincing. Dionne and Jarvis do, but I’m used to worse.

He storms over to me, gets in my face, and snarls, “You think I’m going to let some frigid cunt talk to me the way you do?”

I stare at him, and because he’s taller than me, I rock my head back. I’m not scared though. I was raised in this damn bar—I’ve faced worse than this dick.

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