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The girl who’s been bartending here for the past couple of months is glaring past me at the group I just left, making me call her name a couple of times to get her attention.
I’ll never forget the conversation I had with her ex the day before I met Molly and I’ve avoided her as much as possible since then, but I have no choice but to deal with her tonight.
Pointing out the guys I’m buying for, I get her moving and hand the drinks out as soon as she lines them up. Throwing some money down when she finally puts all the drinks for Jasper’s table on a tray, I’m about to pick that up when she grabs my good arm.
“I’m staying in the new wing,” she says, her eyes flickering wildly between me and Molly. “Why don’t you come find me when you ditch Miss Goody-two-shoes?”
“Not interested,” I mumble, pulling my arm away and resting the tray on the soft cast that is still protecting my injury.
This time I carefully look behind me before I turn to carry the drinks back to where Molly’s sitting. Her face is flushed as she smiles at whatever story Mack is telling and I slide the tray down before I stand next to her, resting my arm around her shoulders.
I’m relieved that Mack’s telling the story about recommending Charlie for the job at The Garage and Connal’s reaction to meeting her. I’m a little impressed when Molly reaches for the shot that I had gotten myself and throws it back after clinking glasses with the others.
Since it’s going well, I figure it’s the best time to leave, so we say our goodbyes before they start telling stories that involve me. I can tell from the look on Flint’s face, that he’s guessed my strategy and that’s when I remember the envelope that I had seen her giving him that one day. I bite my tongue from askingabout it, but am determined to figure out what’s happening there.
Twenty minutes later, as we’re walking into the steakhouse at the resort that Russian works at, I miss a step when I see the hostess. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and the dark pantsuit that she’s wearing hides her tattoos and augmented tits, but I’d know her face anywhere.
She grins and narrows her eyes when she looks from me to the screen in front of her, before greeting me.
“Good evening, sir,” she purrs, blatantly ignoring Molly. “Do you have a reservation with us?”
“Yes, it’s under MacNeal,” I respond, in a tone of voice meant to relay that I won’t take any shit from her. Molly momentarily stiffens next to me, then looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Oh, Ryan MacNeal, is it? Yes, follow me, sir.” I swear to fuck she’s using the same goddamn velvety voice she uses when she’s coaching girls about how I like my dick sucked and all I can think of are Molly’s words from earlier,…we could just run for it.
After the hostess leaves us at the table, I see that Molly is frowning—completely understandable considering how Vixen, as the hostess likes to be called, totally ignored her existence.
“Well, at least she’s not our waitress,” Molly says under her breath and I’m about to respond when I see the waitress whoiswalking to our table.
What kind of fucking shit did I get myself into?
I catch a glare from the woman behind the bar as my eyes dart around the room, and with the exception of the male waiters, I’m pretty sure I’ve partied with all the other employees here.
“Mr. MacNeal,” the waitress says with glee when she comes to stand uncomfortably close to me, and I groan, knowing thatI had to give my full name and cell number to make the reservation. “I’m Cheri and I’m here to serve you tonight.”
“Molly, do you want something to drink?” I ask her, and when her gaze shifts from Cheri to me, I know I’m toast.
“Water,” she answers.
“Make that two,” I tell Cheri who raises a mocking eyebrow at me.
“Tonight’s specials are…”
“No need for that,” I say, cutting her off in the hopes of having a word with Molly.
“No, Cheri,” Molly interjects with a very distinctive edge to her voice. “Why don’t you tellmethe specials?”
Staring at the air above Molly’s head, Cheri proceeds to recite them with all the enthusiasm of a teenager at church, before turning on her heel and walking away. Almost instantly, another of the women that Vixen’s brought out to the clubhouse, walks over and fills my water glass. Since Molly’s is left empty, I immediately trade glasses with her, wondering if she’s about to throw it at me.
Her eyes never leave mine as she drinks half the contents; I sit across from her, gaping like a fish as I try to figure out what to say to her.
“The way I see it, we have a few options,” Molly says once she puts down the glass. “If we leave, they win and that would really piss me off.”
I gulp in reply, not entirely sure where she’s going with this.
“If I order the most expensive items on the menu, they’ll think they’ve hurt me and, again, that’s a win for them.”
“What do you suggest then?” I ask, starting to feel a little hope seep back into our date.
