Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
I’ve never been allowed to party, so unless it’s a rum and Coke or Red Bull and vodka, I don’t know what goes into these mixed drinks. And anyone who asks is stupid. You came to the club; you should know what you like.
I’ve flirted with everyone at my tables. Thankfully, Tyson isn’t a complete idiot and only gave me two tables tonight knowing I didn’t have any experience. But it is a Saturday and it’s been nonstop slammed. He also didn’t put with me another server to train me. He just threw me to the wolves. I feel like it’s a test, and I’m failing.
The lights hurt my eyes, and the blaring music has given me a headache. I don’t know how he chooses to work and live here.
Making my way over to the main bar, I step up to the wait station in the corner and hold up two fingers and call out “Bud Lights.” Beau is pretty cool. He’s been the most helpful. The other servers kind of stay away from me. There’s nine of us here tonight and I think they’re mad because two of them each lost a table. And one girl was already complaining about the schedule change when she demanded to see which section she has tomorrow night.
I briefly glanced at it, and I work every night for the next seven days. I have a feeling that’s how it’ll be from here on out. My husband owns it, so this is where I’ll be. I know he’ll make me hand over my tips to him every night once we close because that’ll just be another way for him to control me. I’ll work for him day and night and have nothing to show for it, except for bad eyes and migraines. Living the life.
“Here you go.” Beau sets the open bottles on my tray, and I thank him.
He gives me a huge smile and winks at me. “You don’t have to thank me every time, Lake.”
I blush when his eyes drop to my chest, and I nod my head in understanding. I’m sorry that I have manners.
Walking over to my table, I turn, and someone runs into the side of me. Beers are knocked over, and I gasp at the feel of the cold liquid splashing my face, neck, and hair.
“Watch where you’re fucking going!” Bethany snaps at me, before throwing her long dark ponytail over her shoulder, pushing her nose up in the air, and storming off.
I could tell from our first encounter in the bathroom that she was going to hate me. She’s made sure to remind me of that every chance she’s had tonight.
Turning back to the station, I set my now wet tray on the surface, and Beau gives me a sympathetic smile. “Here you go.” He passes me a handful of bar napkins, and I blot my face and lick my lips, tasting the nasty beer.
Well, so much for having a good night. Now I need another bath.
FIFTEEN
TYSON
I sit back in the corner booth inside of Blackout, reviewing paperwork while my staff picks up after closing. Every man who works for me is training to be a Lord.
The lower part of the totem pole, but a Lord nonetheless. Unless you’re like Ryat, Sin—another Lord I’m close with—or myself, high up in rankings, you have to provide a service as you go through your initiations while attending Barrington University. When I took on Blackout, the Lords came to me and asked if I could employ some while they go through initiations. I didn’t see why not. They saved me the trouble of going through the hiring process.
I look up to see Lake sitting at the bar, her back to me. “Come here,” I call out, not even bothering to use her name. She knows I’m referring to her.
Her back stiffens, but she makes no move to acknowledge me.
I pick up my cell off the table to turn on her collar but stop myself. Instead, I sit back in the booth and cross my arms over my chest. I watched her all night on the cameras, and she did better than I thought she would. “I’m going to give you to the count of five to crawl your ass over to me.”
That does it.
Her head whips around, her hair slapping her in the face in the process. She jumps to her feet, glaring at me. “I’m not fucking crawling anywhere in this place. That’s disgusting.”
As if she’d crawl anywhere else. “One.”
She huffs, her large tits rising with the action, and then places her hands on her narrow hips. My eyes drop between her legs, and I wonder if her underwear is as soaked with my cum as her leotard is from the beer that got spilled.
“Two.”
“I’m not fucking doing it, Tyson,” she snaps, her voice ringing out through the silent club.