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Still, I couldn’t help making my smile overly saccharine as I grinned at him in the mirror, clasped a hand to my chest, and asked, “Please, dearest Jeremy, will you pretty please take me to Bill’s Diner in this most worthy conveyance?”

He frowned, sensing I was making fun of him but not smart enough to be sure.

Either way, he finally put the car in drive, and we started down the county highway toward Bill’s. Thank God.

Leaning against the seat, I tipped my head back, closing my eyes. I turned the volume up on the music, pretending to be asleep or that the music was too loud when Jeremy tried to make conversation several minutes later.

I only opened my eyes when the car came to a stop. I sat up and looked around, pulling the earbuds out of my ears.

“Where are we?” I asked, frowning when I saw we were in town, but still about half a mile from Bill’s.

“You should be nicer to me.”

I sat up straighter. Was he fucking serious?

“I’m late, Jeremy. Take me to work. Now.”

He hit the steering wheel and I jumped at the noise. “That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about. You need to be grateful. You wouldn’t have been able to get to work if I hadn’t come and picked you up.”

“It’s your job. You work for a company and that’s the service the company provides.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well it’s only me, Terry, and Ramirez who actually drive, so chances are, you’re going to get stuck with me a lot. And I’m thinking it’s time you started showing some gratitude.”

My vision went red for the second time that day. “And I’m thinking it’s time you go fuck yourself.”

I slammed the door open and got out of the car, yanking my purse behind me. But I wasn’t done. “I’m not going to take this harassment anymore, you small-dicked little bastard. Neither are the other women of this town.” I was yelling now and attracting stares again, but I didn’t care.

Jeremy’s face turned red with fury, but he was noticing the people watching, too. His window was still rolled down from earlier.

“Everyone in town thinks you’re a stuck-up bitch so just get off your high horse.” His face contorted in an ugly smirk. “You’re hot but no one wants such a whiny cunt around. Gossip is Kyle split town with Sandy. Now I see why.”

Then he drove off, spitting dust and gravel into the air. I flinched as some of it hit me, throwing up my hands to protect my face.

For a second, I could only stare after he left.

And all I could think was that my car was still at home. What if Jeremy picked up when I clicked on Uber to go back home?

That was it. I was officially never drinking vodka again.

I started trudging down the sidewalk toward work. There was nothing else to do except keep going forward, right? One foot in front of the other?

It took me another twelve minutes to walk the half-mile to get to Bill’s, and I was sweating by the time I walked in. I pulled my long, dirty blonde hair off my neck and tied it into a ponytail as I pushed the door open with my backside.

A loud cacophony of voices immediately greeted me. Shit. That meant the dinner rush was already hitting.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bill’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Get your ass in an apron and take over Section 4.”

Oh goody. So, the day from hell looked like it was just getting better and better.

I passed by Delilah and she lifted her eyebrows at me, giving me the warning look we passed each other when Bill was in an especially bad mood.

I nodded and scurried to put my apron on. Grabbing a pad and pen, I raced over to Section 4.

“How can I help you today?” I asked, smiling my sunniest smile at four large men in their 40s or 50s who’d crammed themselves into a booth closest to the TV we turned on in the evenings that blared ESPN.

“We have been waiting here ten minutes already and no one asked us what we wanted to drink,” complained the guy in the corner, his trucker hat slightly askew.

A red-faced guy nearest me, bald on top except for a few wisps combed across his shiny, greasy head, spoke up next. “But now we got this hottie who’s gonna work her ass off to make up for that if she wants any tip at all, ain’t that right, baby?”

He wasn’t even subtle about reaching around to pinch my ass. And the motherfucker pinched hard.

I couldn’t help the little yelp of surprise that escaped but he only grinned wider.

I smiled just as broadly back, already planning to ask Darnell to add some “special sauce” to whatever this fucker ordered.


Tags: Stasia Black, Alta Hensley Dark Secret Society Erotic