“We’ve had a few regulars put in a good word for you. Keep up the hard work, and you’ll make bank. Head down to Carter and tell him you’re taking Lauren’s place tonight. She called in with a migraine, which is yet another reason I’m shadowing you.”
That’s a lie. I could easily have called in another more experienced girl and had them train her. This is purely for my own curiosity.
The night is spent mostly watching Bailey rule this position. She doesn’t need training, and she certainly does not need me tailing her. She’s a natural, and our VIPs seem to respect her—mostly. Some of these guys have more money than sense, making them grade A pricks. Nothing and nobody will ever make them happy unless they’re responsible for their bankroll increasing.
She doesn’t seem to notice the assholes of the bunch. She takes orders and ensures the glasses are always full, working the rooms with ease. In fact, I’ve never had a first night go this smoothly. It’s a bit perplexing. It absolutely takes all reason for me shadowing her away.
“Drew,” Samantha, one of the senior VIP girls, calls out. “Reese and his crew just showed up. They reserved room five, but I’m slammed with my rooms and helping out with the booths.”
“Where’s Amy?” I ask, wondering where my booth and high-top girl is.
“She’s on break.”
“Call her back early,” I demand, and she levels me with a you know that’s against the law look. “Fine. I’ll have Bailey take them.”
“The new girl? You’re going to throw her to the wolves?”
“I’m shadowing her tonight, so I’ll help out. Plus, she’s already proved she can handle them.”
Samantha quirks a brow and purses her lips.
“Whatever,” she drawls, walking off to tend to her customers.
“What’s wrong with her?” Bailey’s voice startles me, and I turn to her questioning stare in Samantha’s direction.
“Reese and his crew showed up, and she’s slammed. She asked if you could handle it.” I shrug.
“And? Is there anything I’m missing?” she asks, sounding a little self-conscious but standing tall despite it. It’s likely due to my staring at her like a damn predator. “I mean, I think I’ve done well since I’ve been working here.”
“You have.” I nod my head. “Better than most, I must admit.”
She chews on the inside of her lip, looking around the club before finally spitting out what’s on her mind. “Am I taking the table or what?”
“Do you think you can handle them?”
She bristles, placing both of her hands on her hips. “I’m more than capable.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you aren’t,” I defend. “It’s not your abilities that have me concerned. It’s the group of men. They’re . . . trouble, Bailey.”
“Oh,” she says, dropping her hands from her hips. “Well, I can handle them. I’ve done it before.”
I step toward her, reaching out on instinct and placing a strand of hair behind her ears.
“W-What are you doing?” she stammers, and I smile.
“Helping.”
She quirks her brow. “Touching me is helping?”
I smirk. “Bailey, you have no idea.”
She blushes ten shades of red before I continue. “I like your hair down, but keeping it off your shoulders will keep from getting hair in their drinks and food. These guys won’t be kind with an error like that.”
“Well . . . thanks.”
Outside of dealing with Reese’s rowdy group, the night continues on much like the first half. With me standing over her shoulder, Reese doesn’t give her a hard time. He also keeps his damn hands to himself because he knows better. I don’t have to do a thing. Bailey is on top of everything like a seasoned waitress. I’m impressed.
I’m standing outside of a room, answering emails when Bailey saunters up.
“I’ve got everything under control if you have work to do.” She motions toward my phone.
“You’ve done a great job for sure. I’m impressed, Bailey.”
“Then why are you still following me?”
I chuckle because what the fuck. This girl just called me on my shit.
“Maybe I’m enjoying myself.” I smirk. “Are you sure you want me to go?”
“I-you . . . yes,” she breathes the word.
“Enjoy your night, Bailey.”
10
Bailey
I stand outside of the VIP room, feeling shaken. Outside of a little of what felt like flirting, nothing had happened. He didn’t touch me, yet my skin is on fire as if he did. The words he spoke weren’t anything earth-shattering or inappropriate, but it was the way he said them. His husky voice. He left me feeling off-kilter.
He’s your boss.
Living life as a recovering addict, I’m always trying to avoid chasing highs. If it isn’t pills, it’s some other thrill. Having an addictive personality means I desire anything that’ll make my body crave it.
Drew Lawson makes me yearn for things I haven’t in a long time, and that’s a serious problem.
I shake the thoughts of Drew out of my head and work my ass off the rest of the night. Anything to keep my mind preoccupied. When the place is cleared, and everything is clean, Carter and I head to what has become our booth in the little diner down the street.