Page 2 of Dark Prince

“Hell yeah, I am, and don’t you forget it!”

I grin as I make my way back across the dining room. The kitchen staff is the third thing that keeps me entertained. Come to think of it, there isn’t a single part of this job that doesn’t have the potential to entertain me, and I take full advantage of that. There’s nothing worse than being bored for eight hours at a stretch.

“Here you are sir, one bowl of hot soup. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

The guy grunts and waves me off. I make the rounds, filling up glasses and whatnot, take a few dessert orders, and swing back through the kitchen. My section is beginning to empty out.

When my shift is just about finished and all of my customers have cashed out, I head for the kitchen. I know my feet and back and head will be aching in a little while, but for right now I’m still running on adrenaline and customer service pep, and there’s no room for boring physical complaints.

“Remember gazpacho guy?” I ask Ronnie as I hang up my apron.

“Hotpacho,” he corrects me with a grin. “Yup. Lemme guess, no tip?”

“Hundred percent tip,” I tell him. I laugh at his astonishment and grab my purse off the hook.

“Girl, you must be some kind of magician,” he tells me. “I always think,‘tonight’s gonna be the night she gets stiffed by some dickwad’, and yet you never do.”

I shrug. “It’s all about reading people.”

“Yup,” he agrees. “And that’s why you’re out there and I’m in here. I don’t read people. I read tickets and steak.”

“Never tried to read a steak,” I admit as I loop my bag strap over my body. “I think you must be a little bit magic too.”

He smirks, then turns around and grabs a couple of to-go containers off the counter. “You might think so, but these people sure as hell didn’t. Picky eaters, I swear. You want some go-backs? There’s nothin’ wrong with them, these people just hate cilantro.”

“They must have that tastebud soap gene, poor things,” I say as I reach for the containers. “Thanks. You rock.”

He bows exaggeratedly, grinning at me. “I do what I can. Now get out of here before Angela decides that you’re working a double.” He shoos me toward the back door, and I leave with a smile. As I step outside, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my sister.

ME: I have food! You on your way?

An automated message comes back right away.

CASSIDY: The person you are attempting to text is currently driving. If this is an emergency, please reply, ‘Urgent.’

“Good girl,” I say with a smile, indulging in a bit of pride.

I basically raised my little sister. It pleases me that all of my lectures about the dangers of texting and driving have had an effect.

Cassidy is supposed to meet me at the little park across the street, since I’m not about to pay valet fees just to get picked up from work. The parking attendants would let me get away with it, but if my boss happened to see it happening, we’d all be in trouble. Not that Angela is a tyrant or anything, she’s just a stickler for the rules. I can respect that.

I glance left and right as I reach the street, not bothering to walk the half block north to the intersection. There’s not much traffic, only a few cars passing by, so I start to cross during a gap. All I can think about is how I’mthismuch closer to enjoying my free food with my sister. It’s been a long day, and all I want is to eat, shower, and lie in bed watching Netflix until I pass out.

But just before I reach the other side of the wide street, the roar of an engine catches my attention.

Headlights flood my vision, and I look to my right and see a car barreling toward me at what has to be twice the speed limit.

Shock glues my feet to the asphalt, my heart lurching into my throat.

I have a split second to realize I’m about to die, and then—

Something slams into me from behind.

The food flies out of my hands, and the breath I was holding gets knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground hard. I roll across the pavement as screaming brakes fill my ears, bits of food rain down from the early evening sky. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the expensive ingredients splattered on the windshield of the car that nearly took me out. I catch a glimpse of the mess before I roll onto the sidewalk, still tangled up with whatever it was that hit me.

No. Not whatever.Whoever.

Strong arms come into focus around me, and I look up into a pair of the most shockingly gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen. Amber sunbursts flare around the pupils, surrounded by the deepest, warmest brown irises that remind me of rich dark chocolate. The stranger’s lashes are thick and dark, framing his eyes perfectly to make them pop even more. His hair is a brown as deep and rich as his eyes, cut to perfectly accentuate his strong jaw.

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