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She marched back to her minuscule office where she had a change of clothes. She closed and locked the door, then stripped out of her slacks and white starched shirt, and shimmied into hose and a pencil-thin skirt along with a burgundy top. Her hair remained the same, she never let it loose when she was working. Hell, the last time she’d worn her hair down in public was when she was with Ryker.
She opened her office door and almost ran into Noreen.
“Why are you wearing a server’s uniform?” she asked in that snooty tone of hers. Francois and Noreen were perfect for one another—they both had sticks up their butts and looked down on everyone around them. If Francois wasn’t God’s gift in the kitchen this damn restaurant would have failed the first week they were in business.
“I’ve had four servers call in sick tonight, and I’ve only been able to get two replacements, one who can’t make it for another hour,” Amy answered patiently.
“I can’t afford to have you flitting around the restaurant, catering to customers when I might need you for something important. Make the others fill in the gaps.”
“We’re booked solid and have a waiting list. One of our guests is a congressman and another is a Senator who is dining under an assumed name with his niece. Garth and Valentina are the servers who usually handle those kinds of tables and they’re not here, so I’m going to handle them.”
“I told you no,” Noreen said, her eyebrows floating up to her hairline, which was never a good sign.
“Noreen, if there is something you need me to do, I can do it before I go out on the floor. Just let me take care of it now,” Amy said reasonably.
“That is not what I said,” Noreen stepped forward and tugged at Amy’s burgundy sleeve. “I said get out of those clothes. I will not have my manager be seen serving food. That is not the kind of image I want to project in our establishment.”
Amy backed up. Having an angry older woman getting in her personal space was a hot-button for her. “Noreen, I need you to calm down.”
“I will not calm down. This is my restaurant. You are my employee. You will respect what I have to say.” She took another step forward and tugged harder at her sleeve this time. “Take this off immediately.”
Amy wrenched her arm away from Noreen, and they both looked down in shock as the blouse ripped.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Noreen screeched.
Amy kept backing up until she felt her desk hit the back of her thighs, Noreen stood right in front of her.
“Please j-just go,” Amy stuttered. “I’ll get back into my manager uniform, I promise.”
Noreen’s eyebrows lowered. “You better.” Then she turned and flounced out of Amy’s office.
Amy took a deep juddering breath.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She looked down at her sleeve with disgust. How could she have let Noreen get under her skin like that? She looked up at the ceiling, trying to halt any tears that might sneak past her guard.
Fucking mommy issues!
She yanked off the server uniform and pulled on her manager’s clothes. She took three deep breaths, then three more before she felt calm enough to open her door and face the night.
As soon as she walked down the hall she heard Noreen’s voice. She was talking to Francois, complaining about something.
I need to get the hell out of this place before I rip out her extensions.
The next night Amy wound her way up the stairs to the VIP area of the club. She stood in front of one of the biggest men she’d ever seen who had managed to stuff himself into a pinstriped suit.
“Ticket?” he asked.
“I’m with Lawrence Murphy,” she said.
“Sure you are. I need to see your ticket.”
“Amy!” Lawrence shouted from a couch behind the man. “You made it. Let her through Jimmy, she’s with me.”
Jimmy smiled down at her, stepped aside, and held his arm wide so she could see where Lawrence and the rest of his friends were sitting.
Besides Lawrence, she recognized two other people out of the eight or nine stuffed around a miniature table strewn with shot glasses. She looked for a place to sit and was pleasantly surprised when Jimmy brought over a chair for her. Before she even had a chance to cross her leg, Lawrence was leaning over to talk to her.
