Page 1 of Dangerous Refuge

1

ALLIE

Nothing this entire night has gone my way. Standing next to the fryer in the kitchen, I dab my red apron with a towel, trying to get the grease splatters off it. I hate waiting tables, but it’s the only job I could get at the time, and now the only thing I’m experienced in. Moving nine times in the past five years has meant nine different jobs, nine different apartments, nine times explaining to my son that things have to change again. I really want this to work out, but I really don’t want to keep dealing with rude customers like the one who just wiped his fried chicken down the front of my apron just to prove how greasy the food was.

“Jerk off again?” Dana asks, slinging her tray into the large sink to be washed. She better than anyone knows how rude these people can be.

“Yeah, this time they smeared their food down my apron. I’ve about had it.” I shake my head and toss the towel to the side. I’m going to wear this stain until I get home because I don’t have a way to wash it out here.

“Looks like the cute guys at table six aren’t giving you a hard time at all.” She wags her eyebrows as she gets a clean tray and adds plates of food from the line onto it. When it’s full, she leans her hip against the stainless-steel table and crosses her arms over her chest. “You need to get you a good-looking, rich man to be your sugar daddy. Then you don’t have to keep doing this job.”

“Yeah, well you have a boyfriend. Why do you stick around here?” My sarcastic comment bounces off of her without an answer as I pick up the tray of drinks I need to deliver to said table of gentlemen, who—if I do say so myself—are extremely good-looking. Only one of them is wearing a ring too, despite a few of them being more mature than me.

I carry the tray into the dining room, avoiding the very rude customers as they pack up their things to leave. I won’t get a tip from that table but hopefully these handsome fellows will make up for that.

“I have that fresh round of drinks for you guys,” I say, balancing the tray on one hand as I set each man’s drink in front of him. The one with Dark smoldering eyes who has had his gaze fixed on me all night is at it again. He stares, drinking me in as his tongue traces along his bottom lip. I like the attention, but I know I’m no good for him. Paul will catch up with me at some point—probably soon—and I’ll have to leave again. It’s just the way things work.

“You’re a tall drink,” the man says. His voice is scratchy, like he’s a sixty-year-old smoker, or maybe he screams a lot and he’s just hoarse. But when he speaks it sends a warm rush of arousal through me. He’s the best-looking one at this table in my opinion, permanent five o’clock shadow, dark wavy hair he has slicked back, and blue eyes that promise I’d be in for a pleasurable time if I flirted back.

“Thank you, but I’m not really looking for anything right now.”

It’s true; I’m not. I can’t. Not with Rico needing me to keep him away from his father. Paul will come after me; I will be forced to move. If I start something up with a guy, I’ll just want to stay, and then what will happen? Rico’s father will win, and I can’t let that happen. Not after what happened to us.

“You know, the best things happen when you’re not looking for them. Just ask Dom over there.” His eyes dart at the man with salt-and-pepper sideburns. He looks stern, grumpy even, not at all like this man who is speaking to me now.

“I appreciate that advice,” I say as I set his glass in front of him and his eyes trail over my curves. It makes me tense, my pussy tingling a little because of the attention. I haven’t had sex with a man in five years—dildos don’t count and they don’t cut it either. I just can’t break down and have a one-night stand either. I’m too principled, too picky.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have an amazing figure?” He leans back and studies me. “You see women out there trying to do all these crazy things to make themselves more attractive to men, but you have this natural beauty.” He gestures the length of my body and all I can think is how on earth does he think this ugly pinstriped waitress uniform is attractive.

I’m covered in grease. My hair is falling out of my bun. I have a run in my hose. My makeup is probably smudged from sweating too much, and I know there are bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and worry. He’s either the smoothest talker who just wants a quick bang and run, or he’s blind.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I am not rude at all. I don’t want to be mean to anyone. I just can’t let myself feel that. I can’t be flattered by him—I am, but I can’t allow myself to respond to it. “Can I get you fellas anything else?” I ask, stepping back.

“How about your number?” another one of them says. “Sven is lonely and he’s really a good guy if you give him a chance.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I’ll be back with the check in a bit.”

I walk away feeling lighter. It’s nice to be admired and wanted, but it will only lead to more heartbreak for me. I have a feeling that I’m just going to be a lonely cat woman when Rico grows up and moves out. I’ll have my ten orange tabby cats and a dozen litter boxes spread around my tiny apartment where I hide out from life in general. It’s literally fate or something.

I brush my hair out of my face and force a smile as I leave behind the idea that I could escape my dreaded future by snatching up one of those handsome men. The table I’m heading to has been nothing but trouble all night, but I still have to check on them. I weave between the other patrons in the dining room with my tray tucked under my arm and force a smile.

“That potato soup is almost ready for you. I apologize again that it had bacon in it when you requested no bacon. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

The woman seated at the table across from whom I can only assume is her very miserable husband scowls at me. “He’s already finished eating and I haven’t even gotten my food. The soda tasted like syrup, no carbonation, and you didn’t even bring me silverware when you seated me. I think you’ve done enough.” Her hair is in such a tight bun it draws her eyes back at the corner, which is comical, but I don’t laugh at her.

“I’m sorry again, ma’am. I’ll go check if the soup is finished now.” I turn, heading for the kitchen, though I would rather she just complain and leave. I’m not getting a tip from her, and she’s already told my manager I did a poor job tonight so far. It isn’t my fault the cook prepared the wrong potato soup, but try to convince an unhappy customer of that. I hate waiting tables when I get blamed for mistakes someone else makes.

“Sheesh,” Dana says as I walk into the kitchen. “You can hear that lady all the way in here.” She rolls her eyes and hands me a tray with the bowl of soup sitting in the center, complete with a new bunch of silverware and napkin.

“I know right?” I hand her my empty tray and take the one with soup.

“Look, just go give her the soup and then we’ll go have a smoke or something. You need a break.” Dana is sometimes a lifesaver but today, she really is.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?” I croon, offering the first real smile of the day. “Now, let me go feed the dragon.”

With my back to the door and tray in hand, I back into the dining room, passing by the handsome men who let out a few catcalls. I use the boost of confidence as I approach the woman with her food. I don’t know what causes it, but my foot snags on something and I lose my balance. It feels like my knees will buckle, and in order to keep my footing, I reach out and brace myself on the back of a nearby empty chair. Unfortunately, I also tip the tray holding the soup, which inevitably slides back toward me and spills down the front of my apron, drenching me in broth and chunks of potato.

I gasp, straightening as the bowl and tray fall to the ground. My apron, skirt and shoes are covered in the soup and there is nothing left to put on the table in front of her. The soup is hot, but not scalding. I quickly untie the apron and peel it off before the moistures soaks through into my shirt, but the hem of my skirt is soggy.

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