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She held up a finger as she kept chewing.
Oh, this was because he’d told her not to speak before swallowing?
Pequeña mocosa. What a little brat.
“You seem to be having problems swallowing,” he whispered to her. “Maybe I can help with that.”
She frowned slightly, looking confused. For a moment, doubts stirred. How old was she?
Christ, if Martin had put an underaged kid in the back room with a bunch of cold-hearted murders and criminals . . . he was going to fucking kill him.
She swallowed.
“Finished?” he asked in an overly-patient voice. He could be a patient man. Not often, but sometimes.
Now was not one of those times.
He wanted to take this girl over his knee and teach her a hard and fast lesson about putting herself at risk.
“Yep. Oh, and to answer your question, I work here.”
“Not anymore.” He smiled at her. He was doing her a favor. This wasn’t the place for her.
“What . . . what do you mean?” For the first time, she looked unsure.
“I mean, you’re fired. Go gather your things up and leave.”
“I . . . you can’t fire me!”
“Sure I can. I own this place.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“This isn’t the place for you, kid. You need to go home to your mommy and daddy. I’m sure it’s past your bedtime.”
She sucked in a breath. “How old do you think I am?”
That’s what was worrying him.
“Old enough to know better than to work somewhere like this. And young enough that your daddy ought to paddle your behind for trying to act older than you are.”
“I’m twenty-two!”
Okay. That was better than he’d thought.
“Are you?”
“Yes. You can check with Martin.”
“Don’t think that I won’t, Pequeña,” he murmured.
“I am not a little girl.” There. That was an accent. He’d thought he’d caught it before. It seemed to grow stronger when she was upset. Or was she trying to disguise it, and she’d slipped up when she got mad?
Because Catherine Smithson didn’t sound like she would have an accent.
“Aren’t you?”
“I’m not. And I don’t live with my parents. I need this job to pay my bills.”
Should he believe her? Probably not. And yet, he did.
“All right, you can keep your job. But you need to do as you’re told.”
“As I’m told?”
“Yes, cut the sass.” He lightly grasped hold of her jaw.
“You shouldn’t touch me.”
“There’re a lot of things I shouldn’t do. But this is my world, my rules. You understand? You can leave now and I’ll never touch you again. Never try to find you. It will be like we never met. Or you can stay and abide by my rules.”
“So basically, I can leave and lose my job or stay and put up with you thinking you own me?”
“Pretty much.”
He waited for her to storm out. Hell, if she was feeling brave, she might even decide to complain about him to the cops. Still, he didn’t think she would. And it didn’t matter if she did, he could make anything disappear without breaking into a sweat.
However, he was starting to see that he didn’t understand this girl at all. Because instead of fleeing in the face of his arrogant ultimatum, the brat stood her ground.
“I’m staying.”
“Don’t make a foolish mistake. I don’t make threats that I can’t keep.”
“You won’t hurt me.” She didn’t sound so sure, though.
“Anyone is capable of hurt, of harm. Don’t ever underestimate people. Even a seventy-year-old granny can murder someone in cold blood under the right circumstances.”
“You’re comparing yourself to a seventy-year-old granny?”
“I’m saying that you shouldn’t trust me. Definitely don’t trust any of the men in that room.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I saw the way you looked at them. You touched Vince. He’s a dangerous man. They all are. And you do not belong in that room.”
“So you want a new server?”
He brushed her hair behind her ear and he swore that she shivered.
“Don’t get me wrong, Pequeña. I like you serving me.” The image of her on her knees in front of him, her mouth open as he fed her his cock . . . yeah, he liked that idea a lot.
He wasn’t sure if her shiver was one of fear or arousal.
“Do you treat all of your employees like this?”
“Only those that interest me,” he lied. Fuck. He needed to be careful here. He didn’t want her to think that he was interested in her. “That’s what you agreed to by staying. You’re still free to go.” He forced himself to take a step back and waited.
What would he do if she left?
You’ll let her go, idiot.
But she stood there, staring up at him. He should tell Martin to get a new server. Should tell him to keep her well away from here on these nights.
However, he knew he wasn’t going to do that.
“Very well,” he said when she didn’t move. “You will serve those assholes drinks, but that is it. You will not smile at them, you will not make eye contact, you will not touch them. And you will do up these damn buttons.” He reached for her shirt, roughly doing up each button until her shirt completely covered her.
