Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Jesus,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
What the fuck was she thinking? Why would she do that?
“I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to know,” Nate said. “Everyone signed the same employee handbook when they got hired on, so they know, personal lives stay out of this building. If that becomes a problem, I’ll call people in here. Is it going to be a problem, Sean?”
I looked at him, promising, “No, I’ll handle it. She won’t do that shit again.”
“Good. Because if you’re not happy about something here, I expect you to come to me about it. I thought I communicated that to you already.”
“You did. I don’t know why she came in here. I got no clue what her deal is.”
I was sure as fuck going to find out, though.
Nate nodded, accepting my response. “So, everything’s good then? With J.R., the schedule, your pay. The fact that your face isn’t on a billboard.”
“Yeah. Please, don’t do that,” I rasped.
Jesus. I would hate that fucking shit.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he informed me, then he sat forward to pick up the phone. “All right. You done?”
“Yeah.”
“You come in here yelling at me like that again, you’ll be out of a job.”
“Got it.”
Getting my cue to leave, I turned and moved out of Nate’s office, pulling the door closed behind me and getting Shayla’s attention when I did it.
She was standing at the bar filling a cup with ice and immediately went stiff seeing me and the office I was coming from. Her eyes widened.
I shook my head and moved into the kitchen.
“I’m heading out. You got this?” J.R. asked.
“Yeah. Go.”
“Cool, man. Later.”
“Later.”
He moved past me and stepped out.
Nothing was cooking or needing my attention, so I went to the counter and watched Shayla take the drink to the one patron we had. He was eating now. After saying something to him, she turned and locked eyes with me, flattening her hands to her stomach and looking regretful. Then she walked over.
Slow. As. Fuck.
“What’s your problem?” I asked when she finally reached the counter. “You went in and told Nate to double my pay? What the fuck, Shayla? Did I ask you to do that?”
She shook her head.
“Explain. Now.”
“I’m just…not in the best mood today,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, I picked up on that when I saw you assaulting the menus like they personally did you wrong or somethin’.”
They just wouldn’t line up properly.”
I stared at her.
Her shoulders dropped on a sigh. “I went to my parents’ house last night to visit, and I finally got to ask Dominic about your dad.”
There it was—the reason she was pissed.
“And it just made me so angry,” she continued. “Him leaving you with that horrible woman and then going to make another family…how could he not take you away from her? How could he not go and at least check on you? I don’t understand that. He’s just as much of a monster as she is. He’s just as bad.” Cheeks burning, she shook her head. “I left my parents’ house pissed off, then I went to bed pissed off, I came in here pissed off.” Her eyes softened. “I don’t know what I was thinking going to Nate, though. I shouldn’t have said anything. That isn’t my business.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed, drawing my arms across my chest.
“I just want you to have the best of everything, Sean, because you deserve it, and that includes this job. I want people knowing how talented you are. I thought the advertisement thing was a good idea.”
“You think I’d want that? My face on a fuckin’ billboard?”
“I don’t know. It might be kinda cool.”
I glared at her.
“Okay, okay,” she huffed, looking down. “Maybe I went a little overboard in my suggestions. To be honest, though, I only gave him two of the six ideas I had. I was also going to recommend we change the name of this place to Sean’s Grill or something equally awesome.”
I felt my mouth twitch.
This fucking girl. Christ.
Going to Nate was just another way of her having my back. And I knew Shayla—she would’ve done that shit even if I had known about it ahead of time and asked her not to. That was just how she was.
And I did not hate that about her.
Still, she didn’t need to be doing it again. I wanted to keep working here.
“I got a good setup here, Shayla. I’m good with this job, all right?”
She lifted her head.
“You bringing me food and swapping tacos for furniture is one thing. But going to Nate behind my back when I did not ask you to step in? Don’t fuckin’ do that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She pressed her hands to the sides of her face. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I ain’t mad at you. I’m not sure I know how to be,” I told her, and hearing that, she lowered her hands to the counter and began to smile, then lost it. Her nostrils flared, and a second later, her face tightened in rage. “What now?”