Johnny runs the bar, has done for a long time. I trust him down there and know when he’s on, shit runs smoothly. This is not good.
“Okay, so who do you have?” I open the file and a smiling woman looks up at me. In her photograph she has aqua-colored hair and bright pink lips.
“Tell me her hair still isn’t blue.”
Falcon laughs. “Oh, it is. Told you he wouldn’t be impressed.” His smile doesn’t fade as I look up to Creed who’s more than likely the one responsible for hiring her.
“She’s discreet and good at what she does. Johnny recommended her.”
“Okay, I get it, she’s fine. But she needs to change her hair.”
“Not going to happen. Tried that.”
I groan. “Why won’t she change her hair color?”
Falcon laughs louder. “She told Creed the drapes need to match the carpet.” Falcon hits the desk as he laughs even harder. I cringe, knowing if she said that to Creed, he would have instantly walked the other way. “And then Creed looked shocked and walked away so quickly it killed me. I laughed for fucking ages, and now he won’t even speak to her,” Falcon says confirming my theory.
I look up at Creed, and he shrugs.
“Her name is Olympia? Is that a fake name?”
“No, it’s real. Olympia Cavanagh is her full name.”
“Anything else?” I ask checking through her file.
“Yes, but that’s the main issue, the rest we handled.”
I nod. They all get up and start to leave as the lights downstairs start to dim. I step over to my window—the one where only I can see down but they can’t see up—and that’s when I see her. Olympia. She’s at the bar, her bright aqua-colored hair is the length of her shoulders. She’s singing, I think, as she washes the glasses, dancing.
Very unprofessional.4OlympiaThey say when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade. Yeah, well fuck that lemonade, I want vodka instead. Okay, I take that back. I should just make lemonade because, I mean, that’s what my papa would want for me, to be a good little wholesome girl and make lemonade. Not the girl who works in a place where they sell sex, and God only knows what else. And what fucking great sex there is in this place, it’s even given me ideas. And the owners, let’s not get me started on the owners. Johnny pre-warned me they were delectable, and he was not joking. They are, and so much more. Though, I’m yet to meet one. The one which Falcon described as the big boss. If he is the big boss, I wonder why he hasn’t been here for two weeks?
“Enjoy your day, sweetheart.” Creed’s mother walks by with a baby in her arms. She’s nice, way nicer than her son, which, by the way, I don’t have any idea how she could possibly be his mother because that man is scary.
“The boss is back. So, best behavior, blue,” Falcon says walking past.
I flip him off, making him laugh.
“Do that to him, I dare you. Actually, I’ll fucking pay you to,” he yells over his shoulder. I turn to where Falcon looks before he walks off again, and a man is standing there, dressed immaculately in a suit, but his eyes stare me down.
“You need to change your hair.”
Jesus! If a man had the power to drop you to the floor with his voice alone, this man has that power, plus, let’s not forget the looks. But his words, well, I don’t agree with them, and he says it as if he isn’t leaving room for me to argue—he obviously doesn’t know me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not going to happen. I was hired with blue hair, I’ll be fired with blue hair.”
He shakes his head. “Get the fuck out then.”
I’m shocked, but I won’t argue, especially since he’s the boss. I grab my purse and push past him to walk out. My name is yelled, but I have no reason to answer.
Echo jumps in front of me, his hands touching my shoulders. He’s the nice one I’ve come to realize. “Ignore him, you’re not fired.”
I spin around to the man standing still in his perfectly pressed suit.
“Yes…” he nods his head, “… she is.”
I go to push past him again, but Echo stops me.
“Creed,” he yells.
We all turn as the door opens and Creed walks in, stopping, and taking in the scene. I was told when I was hired that Creed is in charge of the women, but the boss is in charge and oversees everything else.
“Olympia, will you please get back to work behind the bar.”
I look to the guy in the suit who’s eyeing Creed. “He doesn’t want me here.”
“D, back the fuck off. She’s good.”
The guy who I now know as D waves his hand to the bar, watching me.