Little Black Book(8)

By: Tabatha Vargo & Melissa Andrea



“Lucky for me, I am,” he winked.

I wanted to roll my eyes at his corny one-liner, but instead I forced a smile. “Great. Vick told me to find you so I could use the phone?”

He didn’t say anything as he pulled the cordless phone from beneath the bar and handed it to me.

“You work here?” he asked, when I took the phone.

“Started… right now, actually.”

“Glad to hear it.”

I dialed Trish’s number and gave him another forced smile.

When she answered, I gave her a quick rundown of my conversation with Vick and while I hated to ask her for another favor, I had no choice.

“Will you chill, Roz?” she snapped. “Kyle and I are practically BFF’s.” I could hear Kyle’s laughter in the back and suddenly wondered if leaving him with Trish had been a good idea.

She was easily every teenage boy’s wet dream and no matter how much I didn’t want to think about it, I’m sure she had some kind of effect on Kyle.

“Just don’t teach him any bad habits,” I warned.

“Never. Look, I’ll get him some McDonald’s and he can stay here tonight while we work. He’ll be fine, Roz.”

In the background I heard Kyle echo Trish’s words and knew I had no other choice. I sighed and agreed to her plan.

I hated to do it, even though I was assured he would be fine. Not to mention, Trish was nice enough to leave her cell with him, since it was his first night alone.

I was saved from having to engage in anymore conversation with Mike when one of the Clive’s girls brought me a uniform—at least I think it was supposed to be an outfit. When I unfolded the new shirt and shorts they were more like underwear.

Ten minutes later, I found Vick and stood there while she stared me down like I was a piece of meat.

“Turn around,” She ordered, and I did a full turn. “Let me…”

She took a step closer and grabbed the material of the shirt at my ribs. Then she adjusted it to show more of my breasts. It was the most uncomfortable thing I’d ever been through, but it got me the job.

“Perfect. Now find Mike again and he’ll give you the run down. Have fun,” she taunted before turning away.

The first night was brutal. I dropped multiple drinks and bumped into customers. I almost slipped and broke my leg, and a few times I got the order wrong. Vick didn’t believe in training, she believed in learning by experience, which meant I was thrown straight into a busy Friday night. I failed miserably.

Two hours in, I was sure I owed Clive’s more money than they owed me, but I wasn’t going to give up. I needed this job, and I wasn’t about to let it slip through my fingers—like half of the drinks I attempted to serve.

“Just keep smiling, Roz. The guys like you. You have that innocent thing working in your favor,” Trish said, as she slid beside me with a full tray.

“What innocent thing?” I asked loudly over the music.

She turned and winked at me before disappearing into the crowed.

Was I missing something completely obvious? I thought about this while I waited for the bartender to load me down with my order. The lights above were too bright—the music, too loud. I reached up and swiped at the sweat coating my forehead. I was exhausted.

The work shirt Vick had given me was two sizes too small and squished my boobs together. It didn’t help that I’d spilled several drinks down my front, giving everyone a view of my bra.

“She’s right. Your innocence works for you.” A deep voice sounded from beside me, startling the crap out of me. He was so close, he didn’t have to scream over the music.

I could feel his body heat against my bare skin, and it sent chills down my body. Peeking over at him, I caught a glimpse of a stylish black suit, before turning away and waiting for the bartender. I didn’t see his face, but it didn’t matter what he looked like. I needed to focus on my new job, not the men in the club.

It was obvious I was ignoring him and I heard his deep chuckle when the music paused before the next song started.

“You’re holding your tray wrong. That’s why you keep spilling your drinks.” This time I felt his warm breath against my neck. “Don’t use your palm, use your fingertips.”

Without him knowing, I adjusted my fingers beneath the tray and instantly felt the extra control my fingertips provided. I turned to look at him and was met with the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on.

His soft blue eyes were a deep contrast to his tanned skin and dark hair, which was styled in a strategic mess. He ran his fingers through it, pushing some strands out of his eyes. If that wasn’t enough, he grinned at me, showing off an adorable set of dimples. Perfect white teeth shined back at me, as he bit his bottom lip.

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