Page 10 of Undercover Desires

“Bella,” I reply nervously.

“Beautiful Bella, it’s quite fitting. I’m Hugh, and we’re here every Saturday night,” he tells me, and the guy next to him nods his head in agreement.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hugh,” I respond, my smile remaining sweet as I turn to head back to Shelby for another tray of drinks.

I can do this. Hand out drinks, smile, make polite chitchat. Easy. My tummy twists nervously. I haven’t quite shaken off the uneasy feeling that I’m going to be found out at any second and exposed for who I really am. Every time a guy looks me over or starts talking to me, my anxiety kicks up a notch. I have to shake it off and play it cool or I will give myself away.

“This one’s for the executives, the far booth,” Shelby instructs, pointing toward them.

I follow her gaze, and of course, it’s Kobe’s table. Inwardly, I cringe, knowing this should be interesting. I paint on my sunniest smile and begin making my way toward the booth. I do my best to avoid making direct eye contact with Kobe, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze on me. Instead, I focus on a pretty girl with funky green hair as I carefully set the tray down on the table in front of her.

The rest of the table collect their mix of drinks so I don’t have to hand them out, but one remains. A tumbler of Macallan. I glance in Kobe’s direction, eyebrow raised, asking himwhy the hell aren’t you picking up your drink?

His eyes tell me he’s waiting patiently for me to hand it to him, smug-as-shit grin on his face. What’s his deal? I scoop it up and shove it toward him, wishing I could throw it over his head, wiping that expression right off. I don’t know why, but what Xavier revealed about him really has me pissed off. This guythinks he’s God’s gift to women, and yeah, he might be easy on the eyes, but the whole screw-and-run thing is so unattractive. It makes me feel sorry for all the poor girls he has hurt in the past. He deserves a drink in the face for it. But I hold back the temptation, biting the inside of my mouth so I don’t snap and give him a piece of my mind.

“Thanks, sugar.” He grins at me. His eyes lock in on mine, and I feel it right through my body. This is how he does it. Makes you feel like the only girl in the room for just long enough to get you on your back, legs spread just for him.

“No worries,” I reply, my tone sharp but polite.

The young girl with the funky hair looks at me with curiosity. “You’re Australian,” she squeals, way too excited about it.

I nod, offering a friendly smile. “Yeah, just moved here.”

“Bella was looking for work, so I got her a job up here,” Kobe chimes in, sounding as if he’s some kind of hero. I bet he thinks he is.

“That was so nice of you,” the pretty blonde sitting next to him says, her interest in him disgustingly obvious. It’s clear that she’s about to become his next target. The four of them must be here on some sort of double date.

“Bella, this is Jett, one of the other owners here and my brother, his girlfriend Hazel, and her friend Summer,” he introduces us.

His brother looks me over and grunts something that sounds like a hello.

“Nice to meet you all.” I smile sympathetically toward Summer, and she offers one back. Hope the poor girl knows what she’s getting herself into.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Bella. I’ve always dreamt of visiting Australia, you know, getting one of those campervans and exploring the red dirt roads. Have you ever done anythinglike that?” Hazel asks with genuine enthusiasm. At least she seems like a truly nice person.

I shake my head. “Nah, I grew up in the city, close to Sydney. I’ve never even seen the red dirt myself.”

Hazel looks hopeful. “Well, maybe when you go back home, you might.”

I consider it for a moment. “If I go back,” I reply with a shrug. “I’d better get back to work; it’s mad busy.” With that, I make a hasty retreat from the table, determined to avoid getting sucked into Kobe’s magnetic presence. I can feel myself slipping the longer I stand close to him.

The rest of my shift unfolds similarly. I help Shelby deliver trays of drinks to various tables, and when she doesn’t need my help, I linger at the bar with Xavier, pouring drinks and serving patrons. Whenever I serve Kobe, I try to keep the conversation light and cheerful without looking directly at him or touching him. He makes it as difficult for me as possible, forcing me to hand him his beverages personally, brushing a finger over my hand as he does. He’s openly flirty in front of his date. It’s getting increasingly uncomfortable, and I’m praying they call it a night soon so I don’t have to deal with the awkwardness anymore.

I place the tray back on the bar for Shelby. Shelby’s gaze remains fixed on Kobe’s table as she asks, “Is Mr. Rivera giving you a hard time?”

“I don’t know. Does he usually insist on having you girls serve his drinks personally?” I respond with a hint of sarcasm. One more round and I swear I’m going to lose it and throw it over him.

She shoots me a knowing look. “No, and I didn’t realize he did that to you. The next round of drinks his table orders, I’ll handle it. He’s acting so strange tonight. He’s on a date with my friend Summer,” she tells me, watching them. “She’s absolutelystunning, and I would have thought she’s his type, but he’s practically ignoring her.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “His loss. I met her earlier, and she seems really nice—way too good for him.”

Shelby nods in agreement. “I’ve told her that already. We all have. But she’s been convinced for years that he’s the man of her dreams.”

“Maybe after tonight she will see him for the dickhead he is!” I shrug, feeling sorry for her. Another poor girl falling victim to his charm.

“You can finish up, honey. It’s late, and you did well tonight,” Xavier encourages with a warm smile.

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling a sense of pride in my performance. This job is a far cry from the bar I worked at in LA, but I’m thinking I could get used to it. It’s a little confidence boost, and Kobe wasn’t wrong about the tips. I must have made a good two hundred in tips alone. That will go right into my fix-up-nanna’s-house savings jar.

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