Page 19 of Brittle Heart

I take the next order from the guys and slide six frosty beers onto the table, assuring them, “I’ll be back with the rest,” before returning to the bar.

“Check out that big, round ass,” one of them drawls to his friends. “I bet it shakes for hours if you give it a good slap.”

What a fucking asshole. Seething, I get the remaining beers.

I hate that I’m working and can’t set that jerk straight.

“Here’s the rest,” I say, setting the beers from my tray onto their table. “Anything else?”

The offensive guy shares a smirk with his buddies before turning to me, saying, “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s on the menu.” His gaze roams my body.

“You couldn’t afford it even if it was,” I say, but it only earns me a chorus of chuckles.

“What’s it gonna take to get into those pants?” he slurs as his finger catches one of my belt loops, pulling me closer.

I swat his hand away. “I already have one asshole down there. I don’t need another.”

I turn to leave, but a hard slap lands on my ass, making me jump. “See? Told you it jiggles.” The guy guffaws with his buddies.

I’m ready to slap him back, my hand raised in the air when Donny’s shout reverberates across the bar. “Costa!”

I let my hand drop and glare at the guy once more before turning and walking toward the bar where Cindy and Donny have mysteriously reappeared.

Donny grips my upper arm, leading me through the door into the kitchen. He releases me abruptly, causing me to stagger a few steps.

“Did I just see what I think I did? Were you about to slap a customer?” His voice is loud and furious.

“That asshole hit me first!” I protest, spreading my arms wide in disbelief.

“Just because your virgin ass isn’t used to getting some action, you can’t act like a nun around the patrons! Cindy gets catcalled and hit on all the fucking time and takes it like a trooper, and for once, a blind fucker makes a move on you, and you turn into a prude?”

I can’t believe this guy. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Carolina,” Matteo interjects in a low voice, attempting to grab my arm. I jerk it out of his grasp, giving him a sharp look.

“No, I won’t just let this slide. I’m the only one in this godforsaken bar who actually works, and you’re telling me I can’t even defend myself?”

“Defend yourself from what? A guy who’s drunk enough to find you attractive?”

“That’s it, I’m fucking done with this shit show,” I yell.

“No, this shit show is done with you. You’re fired. Get your stuff andget outof my bar,” Donny shouts.

Cindy steps closer to him, clinging to his arm. “Donny, you can’t fire her. We need her,” she whispers, but he shrugs her off.

“Go be useless somewhere else.” He snarls at her while I remove my apron and crumple it into a ball before tossing it at Donny’s feet.

* * *

The night air is cold as I walk to the 7-Eleven, still fuming.

Who does he think he is?

I’ve endured a fucking lot in my life, and I know how to just take it and shut my mouth, but I’m not going to be told my body must be available while I work and anyone can just touch it if they want.

If I thought I could be a prostitute, I would be. The pay would be much better.

Howie is sitting in our usual space, and I let myself fall beside him, the concrete hitting my butt hard. I drop my head into my hands.

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