Tempted

“How the hell should I know? Piss them off again?” Carter doesn’t like to take Reese’s shit and often puts him and his friends in their place, but I know that’s not it. Reese is still probably pissed because I set him straight earlier in the night.

I caught Reese eyeing Bailey as she walked past his room. Then add to that his come-ons and inappropriate suggestions, and I wanted to throw his ass out again. This is becoming a pattern I need to stop. He’s so drunk, he flip-flops back and forth from staring at her like maybe he’s seen her before and wanting to undress her.

Once again, I was forced to watch his table, and yet again, I called him on it. He was his typical egotistical self. He threw out a few veiled threats, and here we are again at an impasse.

His douchebag friends thought they’d get some side action. Typically, this wouldn’t bother me, but knowing what I know about Bailey, that shit ain’t going to fly. My conversation earlier tonight with Reese basically went like this: The new girls aren’t to be fucked with, Reese. Touch them, talk to them, or even glance in their direction, and you’re out.

I lost five great servers last month because of his shit. I’ve talked to the girl once, maybe twice, but knowing what I know, she doesn’t need Reese’s baggage, and she needs this job.

Her eyes are haunted. She has demons. Can’t he see that? Doesn’t he see what I see?

I’m not going to let Bailey be his next casualty.

“No, I really haven’t seen them. They were rude to my new trainee, Bailey, when you were gone, though, and tonight, I could tell they were at it again.”

I raise my brows. “Does that really surprise you?”

“No. They’re a bunch of dirt bags, and have you seen that girl? She’s the hottest server you have.” He hoots. “Then there’s the whole—”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her,” I cut Carter off. I don’t want to talk about something else. “What’s her story?” I ask, trying to sound aloof. I know all about her already, but he doesn’t know that. I’m intrigued, and maybe he knows something a Google search didn’t find.

He looks at me for a beat too long. I can tell he has something to say, and it pisses me off that he’s hesitating to share it with me. You know exactly what he’s thinking.

“What? Out with it, Carter.”

“Listen, Drew, you’re my boss, and you’re a cool guy, but don’t mess with this one. I know you can have any girl in this club, but I can assure you, Bailey is not your type.”

“What exactly would you know about my type, Carter?”

“You forget that not long ago, before you owned this place, you were just another partier hanging with us low-life wannabes, hitting the powder.” I scowl to show that he’s riding a thin line with this conversation, but he continues. “I know the girls you go for, and I know who you steer clear of, and I’m telling you, Bailey is one you’ll want to avoid. You should avoid her, considering.”

“And if I don’t?”

“She isn’t a money-chasing whore like Monica, and she isn’t the confident A-list girls you play around with on the weekends at your galas. She’s not Alexa, man.”

I jerk back as though he hit me. His words clearly hit his mark and aren’t wrong. I’m not sure what has me more pissed—the fact that he’s right or the fact that he’s brought up Alexa. But either way, it has my hands balling into fists at my side. “What the fuck do you know about Alexa?”

“I knew her. You keep forgetting that at one time you weren’t my boss, Drew. She was my friend. She was hooking me up with all the agents until that night.”

I see red. “Don’t ever speak of that night again. Do you fucking hear me? Never,” I seethe.

“I’m only saying she was my friend too. I miss her every day, and you tend to forget that part. I’ve gotten to know Bailey, and though she’s damaged, she’s a good girl. She doesn’t need anyone messing with her or confusing her for someone she’s not.”

“I don’t remember asking you for your opinion on the matter. If you want to keep your job, you’d best remember who pays your damn bills,” I snap, feeling off-kilter for more reasons than just his words.

Carter throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m done. You make your own bed.”

I contemplate his words. He hasn’t told me anything I didn’t already know, but I want to know the rest of her secrets. I want to know the girl behind that face.

He obviously knows them, and I want to ask, but given his reaction to everything, it’s not a good idea. It’s clear that they’ve become friends in the short time she’s been working here. I’ve missed a lot this past week, but I definitely want to catch up where she’s concerned.