Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(4)
“Is this job offer just for tonight or until you find someone permanent?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far. Are you in or not?”
“I’ll take it…but I want the position permanently. And it’s not because I’m giving in to your bribery. It’s because I’d actually like a job to supplement my income. I’m writing a book, and I blew most of the advance, so…”
He squinted. “You’re writing a book? I hope it’s not Bartending for Dummies?”
“Very funny. No. It’s a romance set in a summer house. I’m renting a share house locally for research purposes and currently living beyond my means. The job will actually be very helpful if I can write during the day and work at night.”
“A romance in a summer house. Sounds dumb as shit.” He took out a cigarette and lit it, blowing some of the smoke toward my face.
I coughed. “Excuse me? Why is that dumb?”
“I don’t know much about romance novels, but that sounds cliché as fuck.”
Thank you, Mr. Prick, for pointing out the obvious!
Cliché. As. Fuck.
How to make it original is precisely my problem.
It started out okay. The first three chapters were good enough to land me the publishing deal. Now nothing was coming out. Thus, the whopping seven words I’d written today.
He flicked some of the ashes on the ground. “By the way, you start in fifteen minutes, Shakespeare.”
“My last name is Mirabelli…Gia Mirabelli…for your paperwork purposes.”
He blew out more smoke and nudged his head. “Rush.”
“I thought you said I had fifteen minutes. Pipe down. I don’t need to rush.”
He looked up at the sky as if to question the gods as to how I could be so stupid. “Rush is my name, genius, and watch your mouth. I’m your boss, remember?”
I don’t know where my sass was coming from, but I felt full of it all of a sudden. Straightening my posture, I unleashed it on him. “At this point in time, it seems like you need me more than I need you. While this job is going to be helpful to me, I can take it or leave it. So, I say we agree to mutually respect one another. If you disrespect me, I’ll tell you to pipe down again.” I leaned in. “I’ll tell you to fuck off, too.”
I braced myself, expecting to get reamed for that. Instead, a wide smile spread over his face like a Cheshire cat. He placed his hand on my arm and led me away from the bar, which was now unmanned. He whispered in my ear, “Save that language for my ears only and watch yourself in front of the customers, please.”
That choice of words was odd. He was encouraging me to swear at him?
Shivers ran down my spine. The smell of cigarette smoke and cologne invaded my senses. Being this close to him made my body involuntarily react, even though I’d sworn off men after my bad one-night stand gone wrong a couple of weeks ago. But my reaction to Mr. Mean was a reminder that you couldn’t exactly choose whom you’re physically drawn to. Sometimes, it’s the last person you should be attracted to.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “How do I get paid?”
“Go freshen up. Do your job, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Is there any formal training?”
He put out his cigarette and blew out the last of the smoke. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s not that difficult.” He pointed to the hostess station. “See that standup table over there? You stand there, greet people, and you show them to a table if they opt not to head to one of the bars. If any of the staff has a problem or issue with a customer, they may come to you since you have the least to do out of everyone. Just wing it. It requires no skill, which is a good thing after your failed stint as a bartender. People learn by doing anyway. I’m a big proponent of throwing people into the fire, not wasting time trying to explain things—well, aside from having to drag you away from the bar today when you were losing me customers.”
“Sounds like a healthy work environment.”
He winked. “Don’t forget to smile, Shakespeare.”
I didn’t really have a role at The Heights. As owner of the joint, I wasn’t required to be here much of the time. That was what a manager and employees were for. But you could say I was a bit of a control freak. Plus, out of all of the businesses I owned, I favored the busy atmosphere of this place. It was where I felt most invigorated. So, I made it my home base.
Tonight, however, I seemed to be favoring The Heights a lot more than usual, and it was pissing me off. Every time I would catch myself looking over at my new hire, Gia, I would mentally scold myself. But she was hard not to look at. With long, wild dark hair, an infectious smile, and more spunk than she could contain in that petite frame, she stood out from the moment I’d first laid eyes on her. And she was wearing glasses, which for some reason I found extremely hot.
I didn’t live by a lot of rules. For the most part, I did what I wanted regardless of consequences. Smoking was an example. I knew it was terrible for me, but I did it anyway, even though I kept telling myself that I’d quit one day.
Lord knows I had the means to do whatever the hell I wanted in life. That was pretty crazy to be able to say at twenty-nine. The world was at my fingertips, and as a result, it was really easy to get carried away and mess everything up. But I vowed not to waste the opportunity my grandfather had given me a few years ago when he left me half of his estate, which included multiple properties out here in the Hamptons. Even though I didn’t live by many rules, I tried not to fuck up royally.