AllFreeNovel
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Imixupagin and tonic, add ice, and slide the tumbler to the customer sitting at the bar. I wouldn’t mind a shot or two myself to numb my mind from the nightmare I’m living. Alyssa suggested I not come in on my night off, but mixing drinks is distracting me from thinking of Finn every second of the day. I wipe the counter in vigorous circular motions. He’s answered none of my text messages. Obviously, he’s made his mind up. In his eyes, I’m guilty, and he has cut me out of his life.
“Hey, if you keep scrubbing like that, you’re going to wear a hole in the counter.” Alyssa sidles up next to me. “Do you need a break? You’ve been working non-stop for hours. I can cover for you before my performance if you’d like.”
I find another sticky spot on the counter to clean. Work is the only thing keeping me going. If I stop, I’m scared I’ll fall into a blubbering mess and never be able to get back up. “I don’t want a break. Thanks for offering though.”
“Are you sure? Earlier I saw you put cut lemons into the tiny umbrella drawer.”
“I did?” I pull the drawer open. Sure enough, slices of lemons are sitting on top of colorful umbrellas, soaking through the thin paper. “Shit.” I pull the lemons out. The umbrellas are unsalvageable, and I toss them into the trash.
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Alyssa gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
I nod.
To my left, someone approaches the bar. I turn and try to pull up a smile for the customer, but it freezes on my face. Finn is standing at the end of the counter. For a second, my heart fills with joy. God, I’ve missed him. One day without him feels like a year. I want to throw my arms around him and never let go. Has he come to listen to what I have to say? The glare he aims at me stops me in my tracks. No, I don’t think so. So why is he here?
“I need a drink,” he says and clicks his fingers at me. With his disheveled clothes, messy hair, and slurred speech, I can tell he’s drunk.
“Do you want me to deal with him?” Alyssa asks.
I shake my head. My heart races as I approach him. “Why are you here?”
He taps a finger on the counter. “I’m here to drink. Why else?” Sliding onto a stool, he glances at the stage where Angel’s dancing. “Maybe watch a show. She’s talented.” He makes circling motions with his head, following the stripper’s twirling tassels.
Rolling my lips, I take a deep breath. He’s never watched a stripper before. I know he’s doing this to hurt me.
Turning back to me, he looks at me with bloodshot eyes and snarls, “Where’s my drink?”
If I didn’t know how hurt he was, I’d get security to kick him out of the club for being such a dick. Instead, I fill a glass and pass it to him. “Here, drink this.”
Finn sticks his nose in the tumbler and sniffs. Screwing up his face, he scoffs, “It’s water,” and pushes it away. With the force it tips over, spilling water on the counter and onto the floor. I jump away before I get splashed. If Finn keeps behaving this way, my manager will throw him out.
“I’ll clean it up.” Alyssa rushes to me. “Go sort Finn out.”
“Thank you,” I say to Alyssa. To Finn, I point in the direction of the room behind the bar. “Come with me.
“Ooh, am I-I getting a private lap dance?” He gives me a cruel sneer. “I’ll pass. Been there, done that. Maybe there’s someone else I can try? Where’s Princess P?” He’s deliberately being cruel and trying to hurt me. It’s working. Tears sting the backs of my eyes. My heart aches for the love I’ve lost.
Clasping onto his bicep, I drag him to the breakroom. Thankfully, it’s empty. “Why are you here?” I ask again.
“Can’t a man go to a strip club whenever he wants?” He digs his hands on his hips.
“There are plenty of clubs in New York City. Why this one?”
“For the talent.” He loses his footing, stumbles, and quickly rights himself. Shaking off my attempt to steady him, he points a finger at my face. “You’ve been texting me, wanting to talk.” He spreads his arms wide. “Here I am. T-talk.”
How am I supposed to talk to him when he’s so drunk? But he won’t answer any of my messages, so what other option do I have? This might be the only time I can do it. “The photo someone sent you isn’t what it looks like.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve already said that. Tell me something new.”
God, he’s an ass when he’s drunk. “I tried. You wouldn’t listen.”
“How rude of me.” He waves a wonky hand in the air for me to continue.
“The night of the charity event, I overheard a conversation between Marco and Bianca. Bianca was angry at him because she got blamed for the Met Gala dress fiasco when it was Marco who put her up to it.”
Rubbing his brow, Finn frowns. “Wait…wait…wait. Dadmadeher do it?”
“Yes. I heard him admit he was involved. He threatened Bianca to keep quiet about it or she’d never work in the fashion industry again.”
