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“Not a damn thing from your restaurant.” I cross my arms.
Fabio clicks his tongue. “I know how grumpy my pet gets when she’s hungry; I’ll have the chef make you a little of everything.” He grabs his phone, sending a message.
“Not your pet, and nothing from the chef’s tasting menu,” I warn, and he laughs. But of course Mr. Psycho thinks that’s funny.
Chapter
Thirty
Kat
The next morning, I get ready for the gym, making sure to prance around naked in front of the spy camera just to fuck with Fabio.
If this were a game of Texas Hold’em, I would one-hundred percent be guilty of playing on tilt—letting my emotions cloud my decisions. Good thing it’s not, because dammit, I’m going to win.
My phone buzzes, and I eagerly grab it, expecting the message to be from Mr. Psycho; instead, it’s from my date.
Don’t take this the wrong way. On second thought, DO take this the wrong way. You and your boyfriend are CRAZY. No pussy is worth getting killed over. I’m blocking your ass.
“Hey, he’s not my boyfriend,” I grumble, tossing my phone in my gym bag.
My first stop is a different convenience store to buy emergency smokes, and I storm out when I’m denied yet again.
Arriving at the gym in a foul mood, I stash my bag in the locker room and hunt down Taylor. “What’s with you?” she asks.
“Am I crazy?” I wonder.
She shrugs. “Yes, but only because all hot girls are a little bit crazy.”
“Worth the risk,” Gavin interjects, sidling up beside us.
“Have you no shame?” Taylor chides.
“None.” He winks at her.
Taylor rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna hit the treadmill,” she says, walking off.
“Hey, what’s the word about Inferno’s party?” I ask Gavin.
“I floated your name as a dealer; hopefully, you’ll hear something,” he tells me.
“Great, thanks.”
Someone snags Gavin’s attention. “That’s my training client. Hey, you haven’t signed up for more personal training.”
“I’ll get on that,” I fib. “Talk to you later,” I say, making a break for it.
Arriving at The Diamond, I scan my badge, but it doesn’t work. I scan it again; it beeps red. Frustrated, I scan it a third time, but still a no-go. “What the hell?”
“Won’t work,” Fabio says.
I grit my teeth, spinning around. “Why not?”
“Because you’re no longer an employee at the casino,” he informs me.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My offer, remember? You’re my new pit boss,” he tells me.
