“I hear you like to beat women, Johnny-boy,” I said. “A big, strong man like you against your five-foot-three fiancé? No wonder she ended up in ICU. You must be very proud of yourself for handling such a big threatening girl like that.”
His face dark with rage, Jon stood up, nearly knocking the table over with him as he moved. He was at least six-foot-five, if not taller, and had at least two hundred pounds on me. He could have crushed me like a grape with one hand if he wanted to. But, if there's one thing I don't do, I don't back down.
Men like him don't scare me. Especially in public. As I stared up at the mammoth man, not flinching, and not giving an inch of ground, a voice called to me from behind. My boss.
“Casey, come here, will ya?”
I winked at Jon and his friends, “Sorry, I have to get back to work,” I said. “I don't make millions of dollars playing a game.”
I turned to leave, and Jon reached out for me again. This time, I was expecting it and dodged his grip, waltzing over to my boss, Leon-- Tommy's father. He was standing there with his hands on his hips and a frown that went all the way up to his eyes. He was shaking his head. He didn't look happy.
“What is it?” I asked, giving him my most innocent, doe-eyed look.
“Were you antagonizing our VIP again?”
“No,” I scoffed. “Me?”
Though I knew if given a chance, Jon Lincoln would have a different story to tell. I just hoped Leon didn't ask him, because even though that massive pig bastard was way in the wrong, Leon was always going to err on the side of his paying customers. Especially customers like Jon Lincoln, who made millions of dollars each and every year, and spent a good chunk of it in this bar. “We were just messing around,” I said. “Telling some jokes. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Entertain the customers?”
Leon looked past me at the table of VIPs, then back to me again. He was not buying it. Shit.
“What have I told you about your attitude, Casey?”
I repeated exactly what he'd told me many times before, “If you want to keep this job, you can't get into fights with the customers. It's bad for business, no matter how cute you – err, rather I – look in a mini-skirt.”
I chuckled to myself picturing Leon in a mini skirt, but he didn't find it as funny as I did. Pity. I wish Leon had a sense of humor.
“You're on real thin ice here, Casey,” he said. “This is your last warning.”
That got my attention – and made my blood boil. That behemoth over there was the one who was in the wrong. He touched Sasha inappropriately and manhandled me – and yet Leon, let's that slide. The son of a bitch.
“You don't even know that I did anything wrong back there. ”
He motioned for me to look, and when I did, I saw the large group getting up and leaving the club. Jon was looking over at me with a look of pure hatred, as if he could shoot death rays from his eyes. Man, ‘roid rage makes people pissy.
“Err, well maybe that has nothing to do with me?”
Judging by the look on his face, Leon wasn't buying it. But still, I wasn't the one in the wrong. Leon just shook his head, his frown deepening.
“This is your last chance, Casey. One more incident and you're gone,” he said, his voice grim. “I should fire you right now, but Tommy insists you're one of the best we have. I'm only cutting you some slack because he's vouching for you.”
I looked over at Tommy and he waved, a big, goofy grin on his face. He'd been listening the entire time, and he was the reason I'd kept my job. Jesus Christ, I never thought I'd owe that brat a favor. I turned faced Leon.
“Got it. I'll be better, I promise,” I said, snapping him a little salute.
He grumbled and turned away, walking to the other end of the bar. I was left standing there simultaneously feeling like I'd dodged the Grim Reaper's scythe – again – and entirely pissed off because I hadn't done anything wrong but stand up for myself.
Keeping my mouth shut wasn't going to be easy. I've never been very good about submitting to others – especially powerful men. But, this job kept a roof over our heads and without it, I'd have been screwed. Sure, I could have gone to other clubs in the city, but Obelisk was the hottest nightclub in Beverly Hills, and the tips were unbelievable. To pay Los Angeles rent prices and to feed my siblings, I needed to stay there. That meant that I was going to have to do my best to zip it and keep my temper under wraps.
Why, oh why, did I have to get my daddy's temper?
It was the only thing I'd inherited from that son of a bitch.
CHAPTER THREE
MALCOLM
Mom and I were sitting at an ocean-side restaurant in Santa Monica that overlooked the Pacific. The air was saturated with the aroma of the sea as the waves crashed on the shoreline below us. In the distance, you could see the world-famous Santa Monica Pier, where my dad had brought me when I was little.