Page 22 of Bully

“Of course.” The kid gave a tight-lipped smile and backed away as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a cautious sip. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but I sure enjoyed the lightness of my choice and went in for another one. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t use the alcohol to keep my lips sealed amidst the judging company tonight.

Slipping my phone from my handbag, I glanced at the time. I was ten minutes late for dinner to begin with, and had been waiting for another ten, making Tamen twenty minutes late to the place he insisted I show up.

When the invite originally showed up, I thought perhaps he was telling me to show up somewhere to fire me for chucking the glass at his face. But the longer I waited, the heavier my stomach felt, a dread settling over me like a thick fog.

Tamen was a bastard; he’d already proven that much to me. As the minute hand on my phone screen clicked by, I couldn’t help but feel like being fired would have been a more merciful option, in his opinion.

Torture was more the man’s style.

Eyes from other diners kept falling on me and my half empty table, lingering on the scene as though they were already casting me out the longer I sat alone in their presence.

With a disregard for proper decorum, I dialed Tamen’s number and hit send. After two rings, his voicemail picked up.

Ignored.

“Bastard.” I hissed under my breath as the server started moving toward my table again. Tilting my head to the side, I cracked my neck and prepared for war. Determined not to be viewed as a victim, I would not let the surrounding snobs see me as one.

I knew what he was about to say.

I knew what Tamen had done.

And I was seething under the red fabric of the clown’s costume I was wearing.

“Miss, I’m so sorry. There’s a strict twenty-minute reservation window. We can only hold a table for so long before we need to give it to customers who are here and ready to eat.”

“Do I not count as a customer? I’m here and ready to eat.” Snapping, I stared up at him, pursing my lips and daring the young twit to challenge me. “I’ll take the menu now.”

“But—” He stammered, looking over to the side where a man in a tux stood overseeing the entire room with a disapproving glare aimed right at me. “Your reservation was for two.”

“Are you refusing to serve me?” I hissed, unbelieving of the situation I was in. Not only did I get stood up, made to look pathetic for Tamen’s enjoyment. But the restaurant was kicking me to the curb as well.

“We are.” The server whispered, probably as uncomfortable as I was. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fine.” I slid my phone back into my purse, intending to leave with my head held high, but when I stood up, the server slid a leather billfold from his pocket and awkwardly held it out for me.

“The bill for the wine.”

“You have to be shitting me, kid.” I seethed, but he simply shrugged. “This is absurd.” Taking the bill from him aggressively, I opened the case and saw the outrageous price of the unenjoyed bottle of wine I stupidly ordered, thinking Tamen would be the one to foot the bill. “Four hundred dollars?”

“It’s one of our mid-level bottles, Miss.”

“Mid-level, my ass.” I fished in my purse and pulled out my credit card, jamming it in his chest. “You have until I make it to the front of the building to run that before I decline the charges.”

He ran away from me like he was afraid I might sprint for the exit out of spite as I adjusted my dress and forced a deep breath into my lungs for my walk of shame after slamming the rest of my glass back.

I was going to murder Tamen Bryce.

As I began my shameful exit, I gripped the wine bottle’s neck bringing it with me and noticed the penguin suited man approaching from the restaurant’s side. I didn’t stop, if he wanted me to stop, he’d have to make me.

“Miss.” He called, as I blew past him, “Miss, you cannot leave with an open bottle of alcohol.”

“Why not?” I argued, raising my voice and drawing even more attention as I spun on him. “I had to buy it, why can I not take it with me?”

“It’s—” He stammered, glancing around at how everyone stared. “Against our policy.” He hissed in a whisper, trying to save face.

“Fuck your policy.” I snapped, tipping the bottle to my lips and taking a large swig.

“Miss,” He flushed, “This is a fine dining establishment, we will not tolerate this behavior from you.”

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