Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
That gave me just enough time to walk there.
Leaving the house with the kids, I started down the road and they took off in the opposite direction.
I’d just turned the corner of the road we lived on when a sight greeted me that I hadn’t expected to see.
I narrowed my eyes and a pang of unexplained anger hit me at the sight.
Posy.
On his bike.
But with him on his bike was a black-haired beauty that had incredible hair, great boobs, and a smoking hot body.
I dropped my head so that he wouldn’t see me staring and started walking faster toward the diner.
Anger was in each step I took, and I cut the walk down from ten minutes to seven just by sheer anger alone.
The bike stopped somewhere beyond the diner, and I refused to look up as I made my way to the diner’s front door.
Lenny had the place opened up already, and my potential new hire was already at the bar with a cup of coffee in her hands.
The jingle of the bell had both Lenny and the woman looking up.
Since I likely looked like a customer and not the boss, she smiled and turned back to Lenny.
“How would you say you learn the best?” I heard Lenny ask her.
I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to appear to care who I hired.
“The fucking hard way,” I muttered as I walked past, shoved my shit underneath the counter overly hard, and then walked to the coffee pot.
I started a new batch because I knew that Tony and his boys would be in shortly, then walked up to the counter and said, “Are you okay with working shitty hours, and making barely above minimum wage for an hour?”
She blinked at me, startled by my abrupt question.
She frowned, looked from me to Lenny, then said, “Um, yes?”
She probably wasn’t okay with it, but when she said she needed money under the table and wouldn’t bother interviewing if I wasn’t okay with that, I figure she just needed a job.
“You keep all your tips, we don’t tip share here,” I said. “You’ll also be responsible for opening. I’ll get here when I get here.”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“What’s your name again?” I asked.
“Fiona,” she answered. “Fiona Bradshaw.”
I nodded. “Fiona, you’re hired.”
She blinked. “Just like that?”
“You were early, you are dressed conservatively, and you’ll take barely above minimum wage. As long as you don’t steal from me, we’ll make a good pair,” I told her honestly as the door jingled.
I looked up to find Tony there and I smiled. “Hey, Tony.”
The door jingled again, and my smile died.
Posy, a guy I’d never seen before, and the girl walked into the diner.
They walked to a table that was in the back of the dining room, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from uttering a few choice curse words.
Tips.
Think about the tips, Searcy.
“When do you want me to start?” she asked.
“Now,” I answered. “You think you can get Tony all set up? His crew usually orders easy breakfasts and coffee. They tip well, though.”
I gave her Tony because I knew he’d be nice to her.
And, looking at how fragile Fiona looked, she might need gentle and nice today.
She looked like one of those owls that were motion activated. Her head was on a swivel, constantly looking around as if she was expecting someone to jump out at any second and say, ‘boo!’
She also had dark circles under her eyes that I couldn’t tell if they were the end of bruises or just lack of sleep.
Her porcelain white skin looked damn near breakable, too.
Her long sleeves and leggings hid everything but her neck, face and hands.
I had a distinct feeling that if I saw underneath the layers, she’d probably be bruised.
Why else cover so much skin?
That was another reason why I’d hired her so quickly.
I knew what down on your luck looked like, and Fiona definitely had the look.
Reluctantly, I walked up to the table housing two bikers—both with their club cuts on the backs of their chairs instead of on their backs for some reason—and the woman.
The woman was gorgeous.
Black hair, blue eyes.
She was tanned, but not overly so.
She was everything that I wasn’t.
Put together, she had nice clothes and not a single hair was out of place despite her just being on the back of Posy’s bike.
“What can I get y’all?” I asked abruptly, not bothering with a greeting.
I kept my eyes anywhere but on the man that fascinated me and simultaneously made me so angry I could spit.
The real question was, why did seeing him with another woman make me so angry?
The man sitting with Posy today looked fancy.
Well, not really “fancy’”as much as polished.
His jeans fit, and they weren’t worn in all the right places like Posy’s were. He had on a t-shirt that said NO BULL across the front that showed off clearly defined muscles. However, that shirt looked brand new, like he hadn’t worn it a single time yet. Meanwhile, Posy had on a shirt that was smeared with something brown, that I was sincerely hoping was dirt and not shit.