CHAPTER 6
Present Day
It was the next morning at 6:15 a.m., and I had just hung up the phone after talking to Officer Mills. Ha! That’ll teach Spencer to mess with me. I sat down for a quick second in my small kitchen to drink my coffee. And that’s when I started to second-guess myself.
I didn’t know what possessed me to call the police on Spencer and tell them he’d stolen my necklace. I mean, he had stolen my necklace, and I was in the right to call the police. It’s just I knew things would only get worse… a gazillion times worse if I involved the authorities. But there was no way on earth I was going to let him get away with robbing me of my most valuable possession.
As I was showering, I wondered if he was just trying to get back at me for how I rejected him three years ago. Surely, his man-ego must have been bruised so severely that he never recovered. Perhaps he had never been rejected before and he just couldn’t handle it.
I stepped out of the shower rather hurriedly, not paying attention to the water puddle beneath my feet. I slipped and fell flat on my ass. Damn floor and damn shower that didn’t have a proper seal on the shower door. I stood up and stared into the foggy mirror, two concerned eyes looking back at me.
Oh, God. I shouldn’t have called the cops on Spencer. This is so going to bite me in the butt, I just know it.
I hurried and got dressed so I could take the morning shift at Café Limone, trying to not wake Rose who was still sleeping. Her one arm was hanging off the bed and she was snoring so loudly I was honestly surprised she didn’t wake herself up.
I knew she’d have a killer hangover when she woke up as she was drunk off her ass last night, so before I left, I filled a glass of water and placed it on her nightstand beside the ibuprofen. I’d have to talk to her tonight after work. My third job was cleaning homes in the wealthier part of town. It was my best-paying job but also the most physically demanding. And the most stressful. The people I cleaned for required nothing short of perfection.
I arrived at Café Limone at 7:00 a.m. and threw my bag into my locker. I nodded to Hal, the owner, changed into my black flapper outfit, slipped my apron on, and started waiting tables right away.
“Everything all right?” Jen, my best friend at the restaurant, was cleaning the table next to mine. She was a middle-aged, blonde, full-figured, don’t-mess-with-me waitress who could sniff out anyone’s emotional disturbances. She had probably developed these super-human abilities because she was deaf in one ear and had learned to read not only people’s lips, but their very subtle facial expressions as well. When I interviewed to work here, Hal had asked me if I was ok working with a woman who was two parts sweet and three parts lethal. The first thing I thought when I met Jen was that if I ever was in a fight and could only bring one person with me, it would definitely be her.
“Yeah. I’m just tired,” I replied.
“You are the worst liar I have ever met,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll tell you later.”
“This ought to be good.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“You are the most stable person I’ve ever met. If something is bothering you, it must be big.” She sashayed past me holding a tray and vanished into the back in a hurry. The breakfast rush was about to hit, and we needed to have everything ready before then.
The restaurant had been jam packed since Hal remodeled it a couple months ago to a Great Gatsby theme, and I was hoping it’d be a good day for tips. I’d need it now that I was one job down.
I spent the first few hours running around like a mad woman, giving my customers the most excellent service you’d ever seen, smiling cheerfully, flirting, and being the best waitress I’m sure there ever was. It definitely paid off because by 11:00 a.m., I had already raked in over a hundred and twenty dollars plus change in tips.
Happy with my performance results, I headed to the bathroom and brought my phone with me just in case I’d missed a text or call from Rose. She hadn’t tried to contact me, but there were seven missed calls from a number I didn’t recognize. Area code 631.
Huh. I wonder where that’s from.
I googled the area code. I swallowed hard. I stared at the results for a moment in shock. Shit. It’s Long Island. How the hell did Mr. Dark Knight get my number? Officer Mills must have contacted him. And Spencer must have looked through my employee information at Hotel Seattle or bribed/forced one of the employees to give it to him. Dammit.
I sat on the toilet seat for an unreasonably long time. This is so not good. So not good. I had a sinking feeling him firing me was only going to be the tip of the iceberg when it came to how vengeful he’d be. And now that he had my number…? Ugh. I was screwed.
I finally dragged my ass off the toilet and washed my hands. Damn man. I’m not going to let that asshole come into my life and mess with me. I’m not the one who did anything wrong here. He did! He stole my grandmother’s necklace for Christ’s sake!
I finished up washing my hands and tossed my phone back into my locker.
As I was heading back out to the restaurant, Jen approached me.
“Give me the scoop in thirty seconds,” she said as she smoothed her hair back.
“I once rejected this guy…” We started back to dining area, and I leaned over and whispered, “Sexually, and all of a sudden he showed up at the hotel I work at… used to work at. He’s buying the damn place and he had me fired.”
Her pale blue eyes widened. “Oh shit. Now that’s just wrong, girl. Just wrong.”
“It gets worse,” I said. “Before I left the hotel for the last time, I cleaned out my locker but forgot my grandmother’s necklace. Somehow he got hold of it and told me he wouldn’t give it back to me unless I slept with him.”
“I have some friends connected to the Mafia. Do you need me to…” She dragged her index finger across her throat, pretending to slit it.
Coming from her, I didn’t know if she was being serious or was just trying to be supportive. I was leaning more toward her being serious. She had that don’t-mess-with-my-friend look in her eyes.
“No, it’s ok,” I said. “I called the cops on him and told him he had stolen my necklace.”
“The cops are useless. You’ll never get your necklace back. Best to take matters into your own hands.”
“And get this…” I continued. “Somehow he got my phone number and he’s been trying to get in touch with me.”
She stopped abruptly, gripped my shoulders, and stared into my eyes.
“Whatever you do, don’t answer his calls,” she said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I know men like him. You never know if he’s recording your conversations and will later use it against you.”
Would Spencer do that? No… Or maybe he would. I mean, he had gone off the deep end by stealing my necklace and firing me.
She continued, “Men like him only play to win some stupid game and all the rules are rigged in their favor.”
“But then I’ll never get my necklace back. I just know it.” I moaned at length.
She nodded, a sincere expression on her face. Her arms fell to her sides.
“I see your dilemma,” she said. “Let me ask you this. Do you think he’d actually give you back your necklace if you did sleep with him?”
In all my worry, I hadn’t actually considered that. But now that I did, I knew I had yet another problem.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said.
“You girls about done here?” Hal had caught us being “Chatty Cathys” on the job, as he called it.
“Sorry,” we said in unison, then scurried into the dining area to get to work.
Halfway through taking one of the regular’s orders, I about had a heart attack when I saw who walked in through the front door. Spencer Asshole King. And his Victoria’s Secret girlfriend or whatever she was. His black eyes scanned the restaurant, a perpetrator after his next prey. I considered diving under one of the tables, but I gathered it wouldn’t look too professional of me and it might get me in trouble with Hal. Being out one job, I figured I’d best be on my best behavior.
Before I had taken the customer’s entire order, I quickly excused myself, whirled around, and made a beeline toward the back area.
Was Spencer being here a coincidence, or was he here for me? I hoped, prayed, begged to God almighty that it was a coincidence. Even so, I still had three hours left of my shift and there would be no way of avoiding him.
Maybe if I was lucky enough, he’d be seated at a table that wasn’t one of mine.
I peeked into the dining room through the window in the door and saw Spencer talking to the hostess.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jen said, coming up beside me. She peered out the window and followed the line of my gaze to Spencer.
“Is that the guy?” she asked.
I nodded, solemnly, as if I had just witnessed the signing of my own death sentence.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with him?” she asked.
I hit her in the arm, harder than I intended.
She laughed and rubbed her arm.
“You deserved it,” I said.
“Who’s the girl?” she asked, still rubbing her arm.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
She squinted at me.
“I don’t.”
We continued to watch while the hostess seated them at one of my tables. I cursed beneath my breath as I tried to come up with ways in which I could get out of work.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take over for you.” Jen secured her apron around her waist and headed into the dining area. The emergency had been delayed for a few minutes, but how was I supposed to get through the rest of my shift unnoticed?
Then an idea came to me. When Hal first remodeled the restaurant to a Gatsby style, he wanted all the waitresses to wear bob-style wigs. He had purchased a dozen or so, and even though we ended up talking him out of it because the wigs were itchy as hell, I thought I remembered that he kept a few.
I ran to the back and was able to locate a silver wig. I put it on and made sure I pulled the bangs down as far as they’d go. Make-up. I needed make-up.
I went to my locker and dug out a bright red lipstick I had used when I first started working here. I also applied more mascara and enough eyeshadow to make me look like a raccoon. Looking in the mirror, I was rather proud of myself. I was sure even Rose wouldn’t have recognized me.
I went back to the door leading into the dining area and peeked out the window. Jen was still talking to Mr. Dark Knight, a.k.a. Sir Robber, but to my horror, so was Hal. How the hell did he get roped in? And was Spencer trying to get me fired from this job, too? Was that why he was here?
Jen glanced over her shoulder and our gazes locked. She excused herself from the table and headed my way. I took three steps backward to make room, but unfortunately, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and so I bumped into something. There was a loud crash behind me as porcelain plates shattered against the white marble floor. Just as Jen swung the doors opened, I locked eyes with Spencer. My insides clenched automatically, and I hated that they did, but not a second later, Jen grabbed my wrist and pulled me with her to the back room, releasing me from my Dark Knight. She closed the door and faced me.
“Is he here for me?” I asked.
“No. I don’t think so. Apparently, he knows Hal from some business deal way back when and it’s sheer coincidence, or a sick twist of fate that he’s here.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and threw my head back with a groan.
“Even God hates me.” I covered my face with my hands, just wanting to cry.
“Listen.” She took my hands in hers and looked me in the eyes. “You’re going to fight and get your necklace back.”
“But how?” I asked.
She thought for a moment. “I don’t know how yet, but we can outsmart him. I just know it.”
“Okay.” It felt really good to have someone in my corner. And with Kickass Jen on my side, I almost believed that I’d be able to outsmart my tormentor.
“Now, go home. I’ll cover for you,” she said.
“I can’t. I lost my job at the hotel, remember?”
“I’ll sweet talk the devil and he’ll give me a good tip. I’ll donate it to your necklace cause.”
“Jen…”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” she insisted.
“But Hal…”
“I’ll tell Hal you’re sick.”
I glanced at her, wondering exactly how bad of an idea this was.
“Trust me… I’ll make sure you’re not in trouble with Hal. And it will be my pleasure to get a hefty tip from Mr. Hot and Horrible and then use it against him.” She squinted as if she enjoyed the thought of our new scheme.
And I had to admit, in some crazy way, I enjoyed the thought of it, too.
Just as I was heading out, my phone rang, and I saw that it was Paul calling. Dammit. Couldn’t the man take a hint? I’d rejected him every day for a month and to say he was getting on my nerves was an understatement.
I walked down the busy street toward the bus stop, weaving through other pedestrians. Once the phone stopped ringing, I went into my contacts and blocked Paul’s number. I was done with him. And not only that, I was done with any man who was being annoying, mean, an asshole or who drained my energy in any way. It was time to level up in a big way and kick any man who wasn’t a Gentleman to the curb.