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Cruz still had fire in his eyes, but he remained impressively calm as he turned to the right and met Dave’s challenging stare head-on. “You know, I’ve been coming here for about ten years, and it’s rare that I see an employee last from one Christmas to the next.” He ran his gaze along the length of the restaurant. “You barely even decorated this place for the holidays. What kind of operation are you running here?”
“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me how to run a business,” Dave said.
He was standing next to me now. As usual, his hulking form forced me to straighten my spine and square my shouldersin response. I realized now I always did that automatically—making myself bigger just to send the message that I could handle whatever he would toss my way.
“I manage a team of a couple dozen people at properties across the country,” Cruz said. “I’ll put my turnover rate up against yours any day.”
“Not the same.” Dave crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the guy. “Try running a business like this one. Nobody wants to work these days.”
“Nobody wants to work for tyrants,” Cruz said. “I’ll bet you pay your servers minimum wage, which means technically the customers are paying them. That makes me her boss, not you.”
He had a good point. Tips from Cruz and that other rich guy would well exceed my earnings from Dave tonight.
“If I didn’t have this place, you wouldn’t be here to tip her,” Dave said. “I hire the kitchen staff and the bartenders that make your drinks and food. The taste of that food is what keeps you coming back.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Cruz snatched up his phone and scooted out of the booth. “You’ve lost my business for good.” Once he was standing, he leaned around Dave and said to me, “If you want to hear my offer, come on over to Whiskey Dick. They’ll be getting my business from now on.”
I stared after the millionaire. Offer? He hadn’t mentioned he had an offer, had he?
Once Cruz was gone, panic set in. He was my lifeline, my safety. Now there was nothing keeping Dave from lighting into me.
He turned toward me and opened his mouth. That was exactly when something in me snapped. It was something that had been bubbling beneath the surface for years. My entire life, really.
I was done. This was the end of men pushing me around. This was the end ofanyonepushing me around. I reached behind me, untied the apron, then held it out to him.
My boss kept his arms crossed, staring at me. His mouth closed and he tilted his head slightly, as if daring me to say the words I’d utter next.
“I’m done,” I said. “There are a million bosses like Cruz Kemper who would appreciate me. Find someone else to work your Christmas Eve and New Year shifts. Maybe they’ll stick around long enough to finish training.”
When he didn’t take the apron, I tossed it on the table next to me, then turned and walked to the back. I’d just grab my purse and keys and head out the back door—the one a couple of kitchen staff used to sneak joints in the alley between rushes. Dave didn’t know about that, and hopefully, he never would. If he did, he’d fire the entire kitchen staff on the spot and deal with the repercussions later.
I heard the door to the back room slam open just as I reached the door to the outside. That just pushed me out faster. I’d stop by and grab my last paycheck when Dave wasn’t around. I’d then hope like hell I never ran into him again.
2
CRUZ
Iwasn’t a fan of Whiskey Dick’s food, but anything was better than dealing with that asshole at Lamplighter Lounge.
I settled into a table near the front door and ordered a Scotch on the rocks, hoping this time it wouldn’t be as watered down as it usually was. At the last minute, though, I asked the server to make it a double. I needed something to calm me down after what had happened a few minutes ago.
It wasn’t the altercation with Dave that was getting to me most. It was that woman, Jordana. I’d had my eye on her for months. At first, I told myself it was sexual attraction, plain and simple, but no, there was something about her that elevated her above other women. A worldliness in her eyes. A tough outer shell that masked a vulnerability beneath. I wanted to get past that outer shell and see the real her.
But tonight, something else had kicked in. It was so powerful, it shook me to my core. I wanted to rescue this woman from whatever hell men like that boss of hers put her through. I wanted to treat her like royalty, make her my queen.
Yeah, I definitely needed the strong drink the server set in front of me. She took off with my order—a steak sandwich—justin time for the door to the bar to open. My gaze shot straight to that door, sure I’d end up being disappointed. But there Jordana stood, that shoulder-length head of wavy blonde hair and those bright green eyes that made me forget my own name.
She took a deep breath, stretching the constraints of that white T-shirt she wore. She didn’t have a coat on, which was crazy. Had she walked here from Lamplighter? It was freezing out there.
After glancing around, her gaze landed on me again and she walked straight to my table. “I quit. I’m probably screwed, but right now, it feels good to be away from that man.”
I was struggling to take in her words, so I just nodded. Something about her behavior told me she hadn’t just escaped an asshole boss. This went beyond that.
“Need something to drink?” I asked, scanning the area for the server.
Jordana nodded. “Maybe a big vat of alcohol. I’ll just get drunk and sleep it off tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Had she said she didn’t have Christmas plans? No, just that she was working. From that, I’d assumed she didn’t have plans, but she probably was spending tomorrow night and the next day with her boyfriend or fiancé. There was no ring on her finger, so I’d assume she wasn’t married, but there was no guarantee of that, either.
