Fumbled (Playbook #2)(89)
He leans across the bar, his voice dropping a decimal. “If I’d known you went for extras in the parking lot, I would’ve left a bigger tip.”
“What?” I repeat, trying to comprehend what the hell he is saying to me.
“I mean, you’re hot in an urban, exotic way, but I can’t believe TK Moore would turn down all the ass he’s offered for you.” He leans back on the barstool, his eyes dropping to my chest. “You must be working with something like magic. I wouldn’t mind a taste.”
Okay.
So no.
I try to count to ten, I really do, but I only make it to three.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I screech, having it up to here with everything in my life.
The conversation floating around the room dies and all eyes turn to me. I vaguely hear the sounds of barstools pushing out, but I don’t look away from Jacob. The cocky smirk he’s been wearing since he walked in starts to fade and he looks a little nervous.
And rightfully so, since I’m two seconds away from a five-to-ten-year sentence.
“Did you seriously come in here to harass me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm me down. “I don’t know what you heard, but there isn’t enough money in the world for me to ever do anything with you.”
“Whoa.” His friend, the kind, chubby one with an admittedly kick-ass mustache, butts in. “I think you need to calm down a bit.”
Big mistake.
“Me, calm down?” I turn angry eyes to him and watch as he visibly shrinks into his seat. “Your friend here just called me a prostitute!”
Not that I have a problem with prostitutes, make your money, honey. But that’s not the point here.
“You were a stripper.” He makes the unwise decision to defend himself.
“I was never a stripper!” I pound my fists on the bar, and the empty glasses lined up fall over from the impact.
Before I can say another word, all of my girls are behind me and Brynn is at my side. Brynn might seem like a delicate flower, but you don’t fuck with her bar or her people. And these douchebags are messing with both. She squeezes my hand but doesn’t step in or fire me.
“You know Moore is gonna fuck you over, right? He can get any piece of ass in Colorado, hell, probably the nation.” Jacob regains some of his bravado. “You need to leave him before he leaves you. I wasn’t the only guy in the club who wanted a chance with you.”
Is he hitting on me?
“Are you hitting on me?” I’m not even about to try to work out his thought process on my own.
“I think you’re hot.” He shrugs, then leans forward again, taking my not yelling anymore as encouragement.
“Wait.” My eyes go wide and I take a step back, thinking about the flowers I’d received. What are the chances a person who knows me as Poppy and Serena and hints for me to break up with TK randomly wanders into my job? Plus, it’s clear to anybody with a set of eyes that this guy’s out of his mind. “Are you the one who’s been leaving the flowers and notes at my house?”
“What?” His back goes straight and all gloating leaves his face.
“I called the police,” I tell him, my voice quiet but deadly. “You think it’s funny? Threatening me and making me scared in my own house?”
He’s white as a ghost when I finish, and his eyes have tripled in size.
“No!” He shoots out of his seat, grabbing my arms. “I didn’t do it!”
Brynn’s no longer an idle support behind me. Before I can even register the pain from his fingers digging into my arms, liquid flies over my shoulder and into Jacob’s face. “Get your hands off her now,” she growls, her tone one not to be challenged.
Jacob lets go and his friends start pulling him away.
“It wasn’t me! It was Rochelle!” he shouts, panic lacing his voice as soda drips down his face. “We’ve had a fling for the past few months. She’s been fucking with you, leaving notes at your house, spreading all sorts of rumors on the Internet and shit. She called me last night and told me to come in today. Said you had a thing for me.”
“That bitch!” Sadie takes the words right out of my mouth.
Dammit.
I should’ve known.
Now I’m even more pissed because I feel stupid!
“Get out,” Brynn cuts in, pointing to the door after I stand frozen, saying nothing.
They don’t hesitate, they take off running, the one friend who was quiet through this mess slapping Jacob on the back of the head as they go.
“Take Poppy home,” Brynn whispers to the crowd behind the bar when the door shuts behind them.
I don’t hesitate. I untie my bedazzled money pouch, hand it to Brynn, and walk to the office to get my purse.
When I push through the door and walk back into the restaurant, my girls are all waiting for me, worried looks marring their beautiful faces.
I know they think this is going to push me over the edge, but they’re wrong.
What they don’t get is I’m used to having crappy luck and getting screwed over. I wasn’t used to going to nice dinners and waking up to my to-do list being taken care of.
“I’m fine,” I say, answering their unasked question.
“You know what you need?” Sadie asks.