Page 70

He mumbled a curse before answering DeAndre.

“I’ll be there,” he replied before hanging up and switching lanes for the next exit. “I’m sorry, Sugar,” he apologized.

“Don’t apologize. Shit happens, and the restaurant comes first.”

He shook his head and took the exit.

“It’s not supposed to.”

“If you take me out of the equation, you would’ve gone to help him without any hesitation. I can always burn through your money another day,” I said, trying to make him laugh, but he wasn’t taking the bait. “He said you’re short on waitstaff. I can wait tables.” He raised a brow skeptically. “Believe it or not, my father once owned a restaurant, and I did a little bit of everything. I filled in as a hostess, a server, and I expedited the line a time or two.”

He shook his head.

“It’s alright, Sugar. We got it. But thanks for the offer.”

The ride to my apartment was silent—tense from Hart’s foul mood. We arrived at my apartment and parked in front of my building.

“I’ll make it up to you, Sugar,” he promised.

“I’ll see you soon,” I replied, grabbing my backpack and jumping out of the truck. I watched him speed off and peel out of the parking lot.

“Why does that man have to be so damn stubborn?”

***

I parked in a parking garage a block from the restaurant and slipped on a pair of black patent leather pumps that paired nicely with my server’s uniform: a black dress shirt tucked into a black knee-length skirt, a black tie, and pantyhose.

I checked my reflection in my rearview mirror and swiped gloss across my lips before leaving to clock in for my shift at Andre’s. I found the restaurant’s back entrance, where Hart was smoking, dressed in a chef’s uniform, and having a heated conversation with DeAndre.

“I don’t give a shit, D. If you can’t handle the restaurant without me constantly stepping in, then we’ll need to hire an assistant GM. When the hell am I supposed to have time to myself?”

“I hear you, man, but you’re acting as if it’s my fault people called in.”

“I know,” Hart eventually relented. “Send out an email reminding everyone of our call-in policies. Inform them that, due to our recent staffing issue, we will be hiring more waitstaff and the new staff members will undergo cross-training for host positions. They’ll think twice about calling in when their money is affected.”

I whistled, catching the men’s attention. DeAndre took one look at me and smirked.

“It looks like the cavalry has arrived.”

Hart’s brows creased as he finished off the remainder of his cigarette. He extinguished it and tossed it into what looked like a large coffee can by the back door. He frowned as he took in my appearance and said, “Vera… my office… now.”

WAG Material

Hart

Strawberry or cherry. It didn’t fucking matter what her lip gloss tasted like because she tasted like Heaven either way. She attempted to pull away from me, and only succeeded in pissing me off.

I grabbed her tie and jerked her back towards me. She whimpered through soft, wet lips and threw her arms around my neck as our lips reconnected. My hands smoothed down her back until I reached the waistband of her skirt. I tugged her shirt out of her skirt and was met with frustrating resistance when she wrestled away from me.

“We can’t do this right now. We have to get ready for dinner service,” she said, panting and tucking her shirt back into her skirt.

“I told you I didn’t need your help.”

“Fuck you, Hart. You do need my help.”

I smirked.

“Say it again.”