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Dahlia clamped her lips. It wasn’t hard to figure out who the woman was ranting about. While most of the staff seemed cordial to Sloane, no one went out of their way to talk to her. It could’ve been chalked up to her management position. But they seemed friendly with Aaron. The woman must’ve been referring to Dahlia. She glanced up at Trey, who was standing at the edge of the door, staring at her. He lifted his chin toward the main floor. A direct command and one she’d follow. She forced a smile and gave a short wave. Something flashed over his hardened face. It seemed to ease for a mere second.
When Trey cocked his brow, she turned and rushed down the hallway and over to the bar. She hadn’t gotten a chance to store her bag in the breakroom, so she bent over and tucked it into a bottom cabinet.
“Let’s go, Dahl,” Misti said, smacking her ass and passing by. It was official. She’d won Misti over. According to Killian, it was in record time. She was finding not only her place at the Bowery, but she’d found her people. They weren’t super close, but Dahlia felt enough of a bond to inquire with Misti.
“Can I ask you something?”
Misti started lining up some glasses. “Sure, what?”
“Is there a rule about wearing your uniform outside the club?”
Misti stopped, turned, and knitted her brows, obviously puzzled by the question. “What do you mean?”
“Just out. Like if you went out to eat after work or had to take a cab or bus, would you have to change?”
Misti laughed. “No. It’s like free advertising for the Bowery. I know plenty of servers who wear it to bars after their shifts. Apparently, it gets you some free drinks. Never heard of anyone being told they couldn’t.”
I was. Trey had insisted that she didn’t.
Interesting.
****
It was rare for Trey to use the public or employee entrances. He’d had no such intentions, but when he walked Dahlia over and heard the shouting, he’d closed the door behind them, stopping a few feet away from Sloane’s office door. He’d dismissed Dahlia and waited until she cleared the hallway before walking closer to the door. It seemed someone was unhappy about the schedule. And Dahlia.
Contrary to what most people believed, Sloane wasn’t solely in charge of the schedule. It was true she handled most of it, with the exception of the balcony. But it was Trey who’d instructed Sloane to give Dahlia several shifts each week. It was no secret she needed the money, and she worked hard. Killian and even Misti, who didn’t like anyone, had requested Dahlia. It was a smart business decision.
There may have been other reasons, but none Trey would voice to anyone.
It was Sloane and Aaron’s job to handle staff disputes and complaints, but this one had him taking a special interest. Your friend? It could only be one person.
“This is bullshit, Sloane. She’s been here two weeks, and Dahlia’s worked almost every fucking day.”
There it was. Confirmation.
“I didn’t cut your shifts. You’re still working the same as you did for the past few months, April.”
“Yeah, at bar two. The tips aren’t nearly as high back there. Bar one was mine, and she just shows up on her first day and gets it? That’s bullshit!” April shouted. “I mean, seriously, whose dick is she sucking to get that kind of treatment?”
Trey straightened to full height as his blood started rushing through his veins. It was an unnatural and protective reaction. He shouldn’t have felt it, but he did. His possession had his anger rising at a rapid speed.
There was a long stretch of silence, and Trey stepped forward, assessing the room while staying out of sight. April was standing in front of Sloane’s desk where she was seated, and Aaron was standing next to his desk with his arms crossed and scowling.
“Why are you looking at me? I’m married,” Aaron said.
April scoffed. “Like that matters to women like her.”
“Well, it matters to me, and I don’t like the insinuation. It’s insulting to me, my wife, and Dahlia.”
“I don’t give a shit, and can you even insult a whore?”
That comment was a mistake. One April would feel. Trey’s reach was far and wide, and he was about to show April the consequences of her words. All it would take was one call, and she’d be blackballed from finding any employment in the city. And Trey would be making that call.
Sloane sprung up from her chair and shot out her hand. “You are out of line, and I’ll remind you, still on probation.”
Too many people counted Sloane out as being a pushover. He knew better. The woman had her quirks. A lot of them. But one thing he respected most about her was her ability to handle a situation. However, this wasn’t her fight. It’s mine.
Trey stepped forward, making himself known, his hard glare aimed at April.
