“Is there a problem?” His smile is all sharp edges, nothing friendly about it. “Surely you can handle serving yourboyfriend’sfamily?”
The way he saysboyfriendmakes my skin crawl.
Across the room, Alfie is watching. His jaw is tight, shoulders tense—like he’s barely holding himself back.
“I can take it.” Becky tries again.
“I said Tara.” James’ voice leaves no room for argument. “Theyspecificallyrequested our best table. Let’s show them our best service.” Becky clicks her tongue at both the rejection and the insult. Her face is furious and I jump in before she says something stupid.
“It’s fine Becks, I got this.”
She searches my face for a moment before shooting a final glare at James and walking away.
Alfie breaks away from his family, approaching the bar. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “They thought it would be amusing. I tried to talk them out of it.”
“It’s fine.” It’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine.
“Tara,” James calls, “they’re waiting.”
I grab my notepad, straightening my shoulders. I can do this. I’ve handled worse.
“Remember your training,” James adds with that smile I’m starting to hate. “VIP customers deserve special attention.”
Alfie’s jaw clenches, but he keeps his promise. Doesn’t intervene. Just watches me walk toward his family.
“Welcome to Luzia,” I say, impressed by how steady my voice sounds. “What can I get you tonight?”
Drake’s smile is all teeth. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite bartender. Tell me, what do you recommend for celebrating…new beginnings?”
They all laugh like Drake’s just told the most hilarious joke. Even Lisa, who usually can’t be bothered to show genuine emotion, throws her head back in amusement.
“It’s just too perfect,” Lisa trills. “Our little bartender.”
I force my lips into something resembling a smile, gripping my notepad so hard my knuckles turn white.
“Sweetie”—Mrs. Spencer waves her manicured hand—“I’ll have a dirty martini. You do know how to make those properly, don’t you?”
“Mother.” Alfie’s voice carries a warning.
“What? I’m simply ensuring we get proper service. Oh! And I am so happy you’re feeling better.Nasty,that food poisoning is.” Her smile is razor-sharp.
“Tell me, Tara, what would you do for a good tip?” Drake drawls, thumbing through his wallet—thick with cash. “Though I suppose we could always tip extra for... special attention.”
“Drake, stop fucking around.” Alfie’s voice is deadly quiet now.
“Language, darling,” Mrs. Spencer cuts in smoothly. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene. Not here. Not in such a... public venue.”
The threat in her voice is unmistakable. I swallow hard, but the lump in my throat won’t go away. My eyes burn.
The others place their orders without another cruel comment, thankfully.
“I’ll get your drinks,” I manage, turning before they can see the tears threatening to fall.
I make it halfway to the bathroom before the first tear escapes. Stupid. I’m being stupid. They’re just words. Just people being awful because they can be.
I push open the bathroom door and freeze.
Marcie stands at the mirror, reapplying her lipstick with perfect precision.
