Page 507 of Bad Seed


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“Yeah, boss. I’m good,” I said.

“You’ll be the only bartender until midnight, so try to keep up your energy. You eat yet?”

“Nope. You rolled me off the cot, remember?” I asked.

“Doesn’t sound very nice,” Nick said, mumbling.

“Here. Eat a protein bar.” My boss tossed me a piece of chalk, and I laughed. It was a literal piece of chalk. Booker was an asshole, but he was an entertaining asshole.

“What? Don’t like the protein bars I leave you on your desk?” I asked.

“No, now stop doing it. I like my chicken wings.”

“But your heart doesn’t,” I said.

“And she gives a shit. That’s nice,” Jacob said.

I looked at the three peculiar brothers and shook my head. What were they buttering me up for?

“I can hear the hordes of regulars about to descend. You three want anything? Because if you do, get your order in now,” I said.

“How much does a shot of you cost?” Jacob said.

“Okay, okay. You’ve proved your point. You can stop flirting,” I said. “It’s painful.”

“What if we don’t want to?” I stared into Adam’s ocean blue eyes and found nothing but sincerity in them. His voice was harsh, but his words were softening quickly. People started shoving through the front doors, sitting in chairs and calling out their orders. I slid out from behind the bar and ran around to them, writing shit down on my arm before I got to work.

And the entire time, the three brothers sat at the bar and talked to me.

“You sure you guys don’t want anything?” I asked.

“Beers would be great,” Nick said.

“Three beers coming up,” I said.

I popped open three beers and handed them out before I leaned against the bar. The fucking waitress was late, as always, and I was prepared to take every damn tip from every table I’d already served. She knew the drill. She only got paid for tables she worked. The more tables I worked meant more of a headache for me, but it also meant more money.

And I could fucking use all I could get.

The brothers sat there all night, talking and staring. Their company was nice, but I had no idea what the hell their plan was. They came in here, helped me with shit, then sat there nursing two, maybe three beers all damn night while making casual conversation with me.

Thankfully, my mother stayed the fuck away that night. If she hadn’t, she’d be all over these men in a fucking heartbeat. The embarrassment would have been too much. They made me laugh and kept me going until the bar finally started to wind down around three, then they took their leave so I could clean up and close down.

As I was heading to my car, I got a notification from my bank on my phone. An updated statement on my joint savings account with Lindy. I opened the attachment and jumped up and down in the parking lot like a mad women, when I saw that Lindy’s deposit had already hit.

After two years of working ourselves half to death and saving every single penny we made, we had all the money we needed to finally find our store.

Shit was finally heading the right direction.

CHAPTER 3

“Did you know Booker started closing the bar on Sundays and Mondays?”

“Lindy, I haven’t had coffee yet. I can barely hold this damn cell phone up against my ear,” I said, groaning.

“When did he start doing that?” Lindy asked.

“Uh, it’s been a few weeks. Why?” I asked.

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