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I know when the bachelor party arrives. They come straight in my direction and are annoying as hell. With every shot, they have a stupid saying.
“Here’s to losing your freedom!”
“To having your balls on a leash!”
“To having only one pussy for the rest of your life!”
I’m positive Satan invented bachelor parties.
I’m never getting married again.
14
Maliki
The bar is slammed tonight.
Money is flowing.
People are enjoying themselves.
Normally, I wouldn’t complain.
It’s what you want in your business.
What I don’t want is every motherfucking man flirting and drooling over my new bartender, roommate, my … whatever the fuck Sierra is to me.
Friend?
I shake my head, attempting to clear my thoughts, but it doesn’t help.
Shit.
Now, I wish I hadn’t started theno drinking on the jobrule.
My night is a circle of actions.
Ask someone what they want. Look at Sierra. Make their drink. Look at Sierra. Give them their drink. Look at Sierra.
She’s smiling, and the men love it. No doubt she’s killing it with tips, but she isn’t overly flirty or eating up the attention. What drives me insane is that they perceive her friendliness as interest.
Yeah, fucking right.
I’ve seen Sierra flirt.
I know what it looks like when she’s interested in someone.
Because she does it with me.
She’s flirted with me since her illegal ass sauntered into my bar. At first, it was almost comical. She couldn’t flirt worth shit, and though I was drawn to her, I never planned on anything developing with us. She was legal and, even though she tried to hide it, innocent.
So damn innocent.
Some men love innocence.
Me? Not so much.
Innocence leads to confusion.
