Page 11 of Never Date A Player
“Nah.” He shakes his head. His eyes flicker to the side without quite catching on Cali this time. “But I could use your opinion. I was serious when I asked if you’re available tomorrow.”
“Totally, anything you want.”
“Great, except—um—maybe don’t mention it to Cali? I mean, she’ll know we’re going somewhere, but if you could keep what we do between us, I would appreciate it.”
“Okay.” Very mysterious, but whatever this is, it’s for Cali and I’ll help any way I can.
Jaeger takes off and I return to work, but my mind isn’t in it. It felt good to unleash some payback on my ex. True, I had help. Okay, a lot of help, but still, I’m fired up. I don’t like to think I cower before men, but the truth is, I tend to avoid confrontation with guys—disregarding warning signs and discovering too late that the A-hole had a girlfriend back home being a case in point.
I’m probably scarred from not having a father figure. Excellent.
A sharp pause in the atmosphere has my mind snapping to attention. The man I just served is staring, an indulgent smile playing along his lips. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, what?” Jesus, get it together. Bad enough I let a guy nuzzle me during my shift. Executives are in the lounge. I need to keep my head in the game. These people could be the ones signing my paychecks.
“I asked your name.”
This man looks familiar. He’s wearing a loosened blood-red tie and white dress shirt, as though he just left his glass-encased office. I’m sure I’ve seen him in the lounge before. Good looking and young. Older than me, but not as old as the suits I typically serve. The man he’s with is equally put together, and they are totally out of place in my section at the rear of the bar. But between the executive meet-and-greet and our regulars, they didn’t have much choice.
“I’m Gen.”
His gaze slides over the length of me, then returns to my eyes. A calculating smile pulls the corners of his lips. “Jennifer?”
My shoulders curl in. “No, it’s Genevieve.”
“Where’re you from, Genevieve?”
“Dawson. I just graduated.” Dawson’s only a couple of hours away. Most people around here have heard of it.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Drake Peterson, head of finance.” Literally signing my paychecks and I was zoning out in front of him. “How do you like working at Blue? Everyone treating you well?”
“They’re great.” No way am I telling this guy about the waitress pettiness.
“Good, well, maybe you’ll stay on. Some of the waitresses have been here a while, but with the right connections you can do well.” His gaze drops to my chest again. Gah.
Between my ex and now Drake, I’m being tested, I swear.
“Thank you. So far, I’m doing okay.”
In reality, I could use a break to regroup after the A-hole encounter. I glance at the time on my watch, which I remembered to wear for once. I typically rely on my iPhone, but given I can’t squeeze anything more than boobs and ass in this uniform, I’m rolling old school.
I serve a few more customers and check in with Amber. She scowls as I give her the rundown before going on break. She’ll have to take over my crap section for a while, which means more work, less money, and she’s understandably unhappy about it. Even with the exec overflow, the majority of my clients are low tippers, but Amber will just have to deal.
On my way out, I notify my tables I’m leaving. “Amber will be your new server,” I tell Drake and his friend. “Is there anything I can get you before I go?”
“You’ve taken good care of us, Genevieve.” Drake reaches inside his coat pocket. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.” He hands me a business card, a thick gold band with a dark sapphire glinting on his finger.
I mumble, “Thank you,” and walk away, shaking off the dirty feeling he gives me.
I peer across the floor before stepping down from the lounge and spy Cali beside Zach. They’re busy shuffling and counting, or whatever it is they do, the pit boss hovering like a guard dog. I don’t want to get Cali in trouble, but I’d love to vent about the A-hole.
Cocktail waitresses move in and out around the blackjack tables, taking orders and clearing glasses. Nothing unusual about me going over there—unless the person serving Cali’s table sees me. A senior waitress might think I’m trying to steal customers and decide to haze me with something other than princess references.
The things I stress about on this job—seriously junior high.
Screw it. I walk up to Cali’s table and wait off to the side. One of her customers leaves and I flag her through the hole in the crowd, mimicking biting into a sandwich. I gesture to the basement entrance and she nods stiffly—which is odd. Cali is laid-back. I’m the uptight one in our duo. Is she stressed?
The place is packed tonight. Understandable if she can’t meet me, but I hope she does. The A-hole’s presence is cause for a best-friend gossip session.
