Page 17 of The Alpha's Assistant & The Dom Next Door
“You’re right.” Brock nodded and got up, gesturing at the bartender. “Buy the lady as many drinks as she wants. Any her friends might want, too. Put it on mytab.”
Naomi frowned, defeat sitting poorly on her pretty features. “Where are yougoing?”
“To show some love with the only thing I have a whole lotof.”
Chapter13
Three MonthsLater
“See to it that you get itdone!”
“Yes, Mr. Cornwall.” Erica sighed as she walked back to the kitchen, her arms loaded down with a tray full of dirty dishes. As she bumped open the door with her hip, the heavy, humid stench of a 24-hour diner in full swing hit herhard.
She made her way to the back to drop off the dishes, and as she walked, she tuned out the ache of her back and neck and arms and feet as she often did, by replaying the final moments before she’d walked out of Brock’s lifeforever.
It felt trite and melodramatic now, but at the time she’d felt she had to take a stand when she’d discovered that he’d gone ahead and pried into her father’s affairs, somehow illegally finding out what medical treatment he needed, then paying for it. Even after she’d specifically told him not to do it, he had, and that had been the last straw. She’d told him so at the office, in front of half the eavesdropping staff, watching the stunned look cross his face before she’d walked out and never goneback.
“I wouldn’t mind a billionaire of my own,” Gabby, her only friend at the diner, quipped as she and Erica crossed paths, she on the way to the kitchen, Erica on her way back to the main floor. “At this time of my night, my feet start screaming for money as much asmercy.”
Erica gave her a rueful smile and went about her job efficiently, bussing tables even though she was ostensibly a waitress. With no waitressing experience under her belt, the only way Cornwall had hired her had been when she swore to do anything at all. Brock had paid for her father’s bills, and there had been nothing Erica could do to change that. Frankly, it would have been stupid to try, after the fact. Her father was getting the best possible care and even then, there were days when he was doing well, then there were days when he was back at death’s door. Every time she thought that he was going to pull through and be able to go home with her, something would happen and his health would take a turn for the worse once more. It seemed like a never-ending nightmare that she could never wake upfrom.
But though Brock had paid for all the bills he’d assumed would come with treatment, he hadn’t realized the extent of the care. Those were the bills Erica now labored to pay off. She’d started by selling her car and now caught the bus to work. Regular night shifts, and she just barely managed to keep a roof on her head and the extra medical bills up to date. Food was a hit or miss, but she rarely wanted any after scraping people’s leftovers all day. That had been Cornwall’s deal. He’d hire her, and he’d pay her marginally better than minimum wage, but she would do anything from scrubbing toilets to waitressing. And shedid.
A group of rowdy customers walked in and Erica rushed to wash her hands before going to attend to them. “Gentlemen,” she greeted them as cheerfully as she was able. “What can I get started for you this evening? Somecoffee?”
The largest man in the group, a good 300 pounds, at the very least, gave her a slow once over and Erica groaned inwardly, knowing exactly how this was going to go. “I know what I want to get started, sweetcheeks.”
Keeping her smile grimly in place, Erica repeated, “Coffee? I just made a pot. Why don’t I go ahead and bring you allsome.”
“That’s not the some I want,” Lardo drawled, eyes lingering on herbreasts.
“That something is taken,” she replied with as much false warmth as she could muster, and waving her hand with its fake wedding band. Sometimes that did thetrick.
Lardo laughed uproariously and slapped his friend on the back, almost sending him straight into the sugar stand. “Bring us coffee, sugartits.”
Swallowing a sigh of relief, Erica turned to go, only to feel a hard, firm squeeze on her left cheek. It was all she could do not to scream, but she needed this job. Between this night shift and a temp position doing data entry, she was making it. It wouldn’t always be like this, she vowed to herself, as she poured four cups of coffee with shaking hands and fought the urge to poison them with the toilet cleaner she’d been using earlier. She had interviews. Seemed like next to nobody was hiring, but she at least hadinterviews.
One day, I’ll get on my feet, she promised herself, scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve before returning to her only customers for the evening. If she was extra nice to them, they might even leave a nicetip.
“Here you go. Fresh, hot coffee,” she chirped, placing a mug in front of each burlyman.
“I’m pretty hot, baby,” a guy with a bad case of cystic acne, somewhat covered by a scraggly beard, informed her. “Want to feel howhot?”
“Married,” she said again, waving her hand once more. “My husband gets awfully jealous and you boys wouldn’t want me to get in trouble at home, I’m sure. Now. What sounds good fordinner?”
There was a jingle behind Erica and she called out, “I’ll be with you in just a minute. Have a seat anywhere you’d like,” before looking at hercustomers.
“I’d like to eat you,” Acne informed her, his eyes directed to the apex of herthighs.
She clenched her hand around her pen, praying for control of her temper. “Our blue plate special is blackened catfish and a side of jambalaya. I highly recommendit.”
“How much for a taste?” Lardo pressed, darting a meaty hand out for another hungrysqueeze.
“Honey, I am way too expensive for you,” Erica said sweetly, praying that her slip of the tongue didn’t elicit atantrum.
Instead, he seemed to not even hear it, so intent was he on feeling her up no matter where she stood. And if she moved to the left, Acne was there. If she moved a little further, the silent men she’d dubbed Red Nose and Yellow Teeth, took theirturns.
At her wits’ end, she heard the jingle again and turned, not seeing anyone. Apparently her other customer had been uninterested in waiting around. Erica glanced at the clock 5:45 a.m. She just had to make it till 6:30.
