Bought For Love

Chapter Two

EMMA

“How’d you fare today, Emma dear?” Cosmo asked as I settled onto the stool next to the host’s stand.

I dug into my apron and pulled out a small wad of cash to count through it. I would have had another dismal day, except for the hundred-dollar bill in the midst of all the ones—the insane tip left by the redheaded hottie whose deep voice I couldn’t get out of my head all day long. Not to mention the freckles I wanted to trace with my lips. His lean muscles filled out the gray pin-striped suit he’d been wearing like it’d been made for him, which, judging by the tip he’d left me, was a real possibility.

Shaking my head in an attempt to get a guy I’d probably never see again out of my mind, I smiled at the man who’d been the host at The Purple Kitchen longer than I’d been alive. “Pretty darn good.”

“Excellent.” He flashed me an encouraging look. “You work hard for every penny you get. It was our lucky day when you were hired. You’re the best waitress we’ve ever had around here.”

“Aww, you’re the sweetest.” I jumped up and gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Only because you never give any of the guys who flirt with you the chance to be sweet to you,” he chided. “If you fell in love with one of them and got married, maybe you wouldn’t have to work quite so hard.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hard work.” My parents had been heavy-handed with the chores growing up. Waitressing for eight hours a day in a tiny diner didn’t seem too bad in comparison to all the stuff they’d had me help with at home and my grandmother’s house before and after school back in North Dakota. “Although my feet are happy when it’s the end of the day.”

“Be sure to put them up when you get home. And don’t forget to eat lunch,” he reminded me, just like he did after each of my shifts.

“Will do, Cosmo,” I laughed, heading out the door. It’d been hours since I had breakfast, the heavily discounted meal I got as a perk of working at The Purple Kitchen. The discount only applied to one meal per shift, or else I would have grabbed lunch to bring home with me each day, too. When I’d moved to New York City from North Dakota the week after graduating from high school, I’d seriously underestimated how much it would cost to live here and what I’d be able to earn without a college degree. All of which added up to a lot of lunches and dinners of Ramen noodles or tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich.

After a quick train ride, I walked a few blocks to my building and trudged up the stairs to the second floor. I unlocked the deadbolt and pushed open the door, surprised to find my roommate sitting on the couch.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah, because I was demoted today. They’re trying to avoid having to lay people off, and I lost ten hours a week,” Katie grumbled before taking a swig from the can of beer clenched in her fist.

“I’m so sorry.” Although we lived together, I didn’t know Katie all that well. I’d seen an advertisement she’d posted for a roommate the day I’d gotten off the bus. It’d taken half my savings, earned from six years of babysitting, to give her my first and last month’s portion of the rent, plus the deposit she’d wanted, but it’d been worth it to have a decent place to live with another girl who was familiar with the city because she’d grown up there. I’d thought we’d become friends and she’d help me with the transition from the small town where I’d spent all my life to the big city. I’d quickly discovered she was only interested in the money I gave her each month for the extra bedroom in her apartment.

“Which means I’m going to need to up your share of the rent by three hundred dollars each month, to help cover the difference in what I’m going to be earning from now on.”

She took another drink of her beer, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell in my lap.

“Three hundred dollars?”

“Yeah, it’s either that or I’m going to need to find a new roommate.”

“But—”

“Look,” she sighed. “I don’t want to be a bitch about this, but it’s not like I have much of a choice. I was damn lucky to get this place for as little as I pay, and I’m not about to lose it. Not for anything.”

“I can ask for an extra shift a week, but even with that I don’t know that I’ll be able to swing more than another hundred. Maybe a hundred and fifty a month.”