Page 34 of Wicked Attraction

As was our custom, no one jumped to do the customer’s bidding because if we did, they would never learn the error of their ways.

“Hey, boys, what can I getcha?” I smiled at the table full of males, two men who were probably the fathers of the two pre-teen boys and an elderly guy who was probably a grandfather to the clan.

“Hey, waitress,” the bald man at the table to their right slurred. “Where the fuck are my pitchers?”

And we have a winner.With one hand on my hip, I turned to face the mouthy jackass.

“First of all, my name isn’t waitress, and there are two more servers on duty right now. Second, who took your order?”

“I called out toyou.” He pointed a finger in my direction. “With a body like that, you’re forgiven. Just get our fuckin’ drinks.” He laughed, but his friends seemed less amused.

“Right.” I turned back to the family table with my smile in place. “So, drinks to start?”

“Two beers,” the pre-teens said in unison.

“Root beers,” their fathers added at the same time while the elderly gentleman crowed with laughter.

“Two beers. Two root beers and a glass of Velvet Fire for me. Thanks, honey.”

I rattled off the specials and went to get their drinks as another bout of nausea hit. As always, it came on suddenly and ferociously. Luckily, I was at the drinks station, which gave me time to squeeze four lime wedges into a tall glass of sparkling water and chug it down while the bartender grabbed the booze.

“All right, gentleman, here are your drinks? Are we ready to order yet?”

“Not yet,” the grandfather smiled. “The boys need a quick lesson in Irish cuisine before they decide.” He winked, and I flashed another smile before moving on to the table with the bald drunk customer.

“All right, fellas. You want two pitchers of beer?” Baldy’s two friends nodded as their gazes raked over my body.

But Baldy wasn’t so easily distracted. “It’s about goddamn time you made your way over here. We’ve been waitingforever.”

“Then I’ll bet you’re really thirsty, so what will you have?”

He smacked his hand on the table, smiling when I didn’t even flinch. “A pitcher of dark beer and one of amber ale. Three shots of whiskey and your phone number.”

As if that would ever fucking happen. “How about a plate of nachos or loaded fries to go with ’em?”

“Just the beers,” he growled and then smiled. “So, about that number?” He reached out and grabbed my wrist, attempting to pull me closer, but I held my ground.

“If you don’t get your hands off me, the only number you’ll get is 911. Got it?”

His friends laughed, and his expression immediately darkened as he barked out a bitter laugh. “You and what army?”

“Just me,” I assured him calmly and took a step back. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

Some days, this job tested my ability to remain patient with drunk assholes. But whenever I got a customer like Baldy, I tallied up his bill in my head and imagined what I would buy with my earnings.

I had my eye on a rose gold ear cuff that sparkled with diamonds, and so I returned with an unflappable smile and set their drinks down in front of them.

“The name is Mo if you need anything else. Mo,” I repeated and tapped my nametag. I turned to walk away just as two uniformed officers entered Midnight mass.

“Officers. You here for food or booze, or both?”

“Yes,” the older one answered with a friendly smile and a laugh. “We’ll take the table in the back.”

He pointed to the spot where Jasper and Terry often sat when they talked business out in the open. “A word with Mr. Ashby and two IPAs.”

“Coming right up.” Before stopping for their drinks, I sucked in a deep fortifying breath as I made my way to Jasper’s office and let it out slowly as I knocked on his office door.

“What?” The one-word bark vibrated on the other side of the door, and I rolled my eyes. With each passing day that Sadie stayed in her coma, his attitude worsened.

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