Page 35 of Made in Malice

Mickey winks. “Smart girl.” It makes me wonder if it was some sort of test, but somehow, I feel like I would have passed even if I would have taken the drink.

We’re slammed for the next fifteen minutes with orders. I even run out of buckets to serve the bottles in, but they still get delivered six bottles at a time. Mickey hastily pours into two glasses at the same time, barely spilling anything as he finishes his last two mixed drinks and backs away from the bar for the patrons to grab their orders.

Amanda comes jogging up and leans over the bar, trying to get one final order in, but Mickey shuts her down with a shake of his head and his finger pointed to the clock.

“Shoot, he was a good tipper too.” She pouts as she spins to go tell the customer it’s too late.

“So, aside from the dickwads, how was your first night?” Mickey flips the towel off his shoulder and starts wiping the bar. I bet it’s not even a conscious thought, because it seems more like a habit.

“Good, it went by fast,” I answer, telling him the truth. Bobcat’s was busy, but nothing like this fast-paced environment. Hooker’s doesn’t even serve food after ten.

“Think you can handle Friday next week? It’s even busier.”

“I’ll manage, as long as I’m not slowing you down.”

“Ha! It might just be that you’re prettier than a picture, so nobody cared about the wait, but I got no complaints from anyone tonight, and that’s got to be some kind of record.”

I grin. Like I said, this place is good for my ego and my wallet. “What can I do to help with closing?”

“Be still my heart.” Mickey feigns at grabbing his chest. “If I were forty years younger and didn’t have my Molly, I might just put you in my pocket.”

I roll my eyes, but I smile while I do it. Mickey’s eyes go up above my head, and his expression shifts. “You take care of them idiots?”

I look over my shoulder, then shift to the side when I realize Jimmy is standing right behind me.

“You know them?” he questions instead of answering Mickey.

“No,” I reply, giving him the truth, but his eyes narrow as if he thinks I’m lying. “I don’t, but I think they go to the same school I do.”

“What school is that?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Cadieux,” I admit softly. Honestly, I’m not sure he can do much more than read my lips since the bar is still pretty loud as people finish their drinks while chatting, but I know he understood when one corner of his lip lifts in a sneer.

Dang it, I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to tell him where I went to school. Guys like them probably come in causing trouble all the time.

“I just transferred in,” I defend, hoping I’m not going to lose my job because I go to school with them. “I didn’t ask them to come, I didn’t even want them to know I worked here.”

Jimmy misunderstands me. “Are we not good enough for you?”

“No.” I put conviction behind the single word, offended that he would think that of me, but I guess we are judged by the company we keep, and it could look like they are my kind of people since I go to school there.

“What then?” he demands, his arms crossed over his barrel chest.

“Quit giving her a hard time, you jackass. Anyone with eyes could see she didn’t want anything to do with them rich pricks,” Mickey defends.

“I didn’t want them coming in here and giving me crap. I get enough of that at school,” I explain a little too honestly.

“Why do they give you shit?” Jimmy’s gaze isn’t any less shrewd.

“Because I’m not like them,” I answer with only a little of the truth. The real reason they don’t like me is a mystery only Morningstar could solve, but I doubt he ever will, at least with any real motive other than he hates me because I was born into a family he despises for yet another reason I may never know.

“That island is a dangerous place,” Jimmy warns, but I’m still not convinced he believes me.

“I’ve been told,” I agree.

“Those founding families think they can get away with anything,” he continues.

“Like what?” I don’t mask how curious I am to know more about the island, the founders, and even the school.

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