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The waitress sighed. “This is a pushy party. I’m so sorry, Amelia.”
I grinned. “It’s fine. But yeah, good luck. I don’t even know why they want the expensive shit. It tastes like gasoline.”
Shrugging since it was my last day and my give a damn was seriously busted, and all I could think about was when Adam would be arriving, I went back to manning the bar with Nadine.
Together we worked seamlessly, handing out drinks, fulfilling orders from waitresses, and cleaning up after ourselves.
“Is it just me or is this place busier than normal?” Nadine asked.
“It’s busier,” I agreed. “Not sure why, either. It’s Thursday night.”
There was a commotion at the door, and my eyes automatically went to the front of the room where the entrance was located.
What I saw did not make me happy.
Rogan entered with a smug smile on his face.
He jerked his chin in his bodyguard’s direction and said something at the front entrance. Moments later, he started to make his way toward me.
Or the bar.
But my bet was on me.
“You need to go,” he said. “The temporary restraining order means you need to stay at least one hundred feet away.”
Funny enough, despite saying words to my face, nothing came out of my mouth.
Hilton, his bodyguard, narrowed his eyes at me, almost taunting me.
I then turned to my girl who agreed to do all the talking when Rogan came in tonight.
“This is her place of business,” Nadine said. “You are the ones that showed up here, so you need to leave.”
“She can’t talk for herself?” Hilton jeered. “She needs you to do all her talking for her?”
“Not usually, no,” Nadine said quietly. “But you know just as well as I do that her talking to Rogan would give him grounds to call the police. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Rogan boomed, walking up to the bar and making himself known.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my dad and then to Adam.
Both replied, but my eyes were glued to the man in front of me who was looking all hot and bothered, and definitely not in a good way.
“We have the right to refuse service to anyone,” Nadine continued.
“I have a party in the back. I reserved the room. Money’s already been paid!” Rogan crowed. “I’m not leaving. She is.”
He pointed his finger at me accusingly, as if it was my fault that I was at work, doing my job.
Which was when Adam walked in the door.
He looked furious.
Walking up to me with more than half the members of the SWAT team at his back, he studied me, his eyes raking my body from head to toe.
Still, I didn’t say a word.
I did smile at him, though.
It probably looked as brittle as it felt because he stiffened even further.
The men at his back read their fellow team member well and started to spread out.
“Oh my God!” One of the strippers ran up, her boobs bouncing every which way as she hurried across the floor in her sky-high high heels.
I thought, for sure, that she was running up to Rogan.
He grinned, almost as if he’d expected it, too. But at the last moment she totally bypassed Rogan and ran right up to… Adam.
“You’re Mr. August!” the stripper cried. “Oh my God! I’m your biggest fan! Will you sign my breast? Oh, God. I’m so excited to meet you! You are my favorite month! Hey, will you take a picture of us?”
Then, as if in a dream, she handed her phone that she’d pulled out of… somewhere… to Rogan.
Only, the smile was gone off of his face and he was staring at the stripper as if she was holding a bomb out to him instead of her phone.
She shook it at him with emphasis. And I say with emphasis because the move caused her very fake boobs to jolt and sway with her movement.
“Please?” she pouted.
Rogan, in answer, slapped the phone out of her hand.
It went flying, skidded across the floor, and smashed against the nearest table before coming to a rest next to a chair.
That’s when the stripper gasped. “You did not just throw that. That was the iPhone 11 Pro Max in rose gold! I paid eleven hundred dollars for that!”
Then, before anybody could stop her, she walked right up to Rogan and slapped him across the face.
Things went poorly after that.
Rogan’s bodyguards, no longer distracted by a set of swinging breasts, moved. They all converged on the stripper at once.
Lynn’s bouncers moved as well as the SWAT team, intercepting what was inevitable.
Then, to make matters even more interesting, several of the other strippers started in, joining the fight.
And, like magic, the SWAT team backed away as if they just didn’t know what to do or where to start.
