Though I reminded myself that when you were dating a rich, powerful, charming Navy SEAL, just about anything could happen.
Christmas with Boss Brothers (Billionaire Bosses Menage Collection)
My Christmas Gift (Book 1)
Chapter One
Monsters, giant cats and vampires spin around me as I rush from table to table during the last hour of my day shift at Kennedy’s, the newest and therefore busiest restaurant in an already fast paced city.
I bump into an evil fairy and groan. I’ve already had to wipe fake blood off of my white apron before it stained, and still I look like I had an accident with a kitchen knife.
“Don’t bother.” Charlie, bartender and my favorite coworker, says as I reach for a napkin on the bar counter. “It’s Halloween, a bit of fake blood isn’t going to hurt.”
“A bit of fake blood is going to stain.” I argue and thank him as he dips the end of a napkin in a glass of water. “And you know David would take a new apron out of my paycheck. Cheap ass.” I mutter and finish wiping it off. Charlie fixes his long dark ponytail and shakes his head.
I continue my rounds like a robot, laughing politely when appropriate and focusing only on my assigned tables. It’s one of those lucky nights where my shift ends before any of my tables are finished eating, and I’ll be able to pass them over to my best friend and least favorite coworker Camila when she clocks in.
“Remy, no costume?” Scott Picton, my regular, comments when I get him and his friends their beer. “You could throw those curves in anything and make some extra money on the side.” Scott runs a hand across his much too small chin and raises an eyebrow.
“You’re disgusting.” I look him in the eye and gesture at the table full of guys in tattered clothing and cheap makeup. “And zombies are overrated, sweetie.”
They take their turn ordering, throwing a few casual remarks about Scott’s disastrous flirting.
“Number eight, no mustard.” Scott says and asks me what I’m doing after my shift.
“Nothing with you.” I respond sweetly. His friends make a commotion as I take their menus.
“One of those days I’ll get that sweet caramel skin in my bed sheets.” Scott says.
“Bet it tastes like burnt sugar, huh?” Another one of the guys makes a grab for my hips and I sway from his touch. I saunter back to put their order in.
“Don’t know how you do it.” Charlie says as he gets a platter ready of cocktails and shots. “Every day these assholes eat you up with their eyes. Even after watching you reject all of them they just keep coming back for more.”
“College ain’t going to pay for itself, Charlie.” I take the platter on one hand and deliver it to my next table full of even more drunk guys competing for my attention. Half the time their eyes are concentrated on my breasts and the deep cleavage my tight satin shirt reveals, and the rest of the time I catch them fixated on my behind as I walk away.
A year and two months ago, when I first changed into my uniform for the first time, I had been conscious of it being too tight and constricting these bigger curves, not too mention taming my corkscrew curls that I’ve wasted thousands of dollars of product learning how to manage. Amazingly, throwing my hair into a bun on the top of my head and wearing tight clothes got me not only unwanted attention, but some very wanted cash tips.
The last hour of my shift flies by and I introduce my tables to Camila. They’re notably disappointed when her tiny frame and thick spanish accent offers to refill their drinks, but as the clock on the wall behind the bar chimes in a new hour I only care about the tip she’ll end up splitting with me.
My apron comes off and I grab my purse, waving goodbye and leaving before someone inevitably calls my name. Camila had asked about my Halloween plans and why I’m in such a hurry to leave and as Scott made a fuss about his burger I managed to slip away unnoticed. I couldn’t tell her I had plans, she would call me out on that lie in an instant, but I didn’t feel like telling her the truth. Tonight is the first night I’ve had off in a month, and I have a hot date waiting for me in my tiny studio apartment. Boxed wine, pajamas, and the newest release of my favorite romance novelist.
I walk up the busy road that Kennedy’s is on, ignoring cat calls and avoiding running into groups of costumed characters migrating to their next party. I’m across the street from the subway station when my phone rings.
I consider waiting until I’m home to even look at it, but my dad has been overseas for business for a while and I haven’t talked to him in over a week. I step into a quieter alleyway and unlock my phone, groaning when my boss’s name flickers across the screen.