Leveled: A Novella (Saints of Denver #0.5)(27)

Sliding down in my chair, I whined, “I don’t want to. I’ll spill their drinks all over them. They’ll complain to Sasha, and then I’ll get fired.”

“You haven’t dropped a glass since your second day. You can balance a tray. You’re getting more orders filled than any of us expected of you. And you have the men captivated.” She pinned me with a sincere stare. “You’re doing great. Even Lev thinks so.”

Whining Mina vanishes as intrigued Mina appeared. “Really? He said that?”

“Yes, he said that, just this morning.” Her brow furrowed. “You two are living in the same house. What the heck do you guys talk about?”

I shrugged. “Not much.” I tilted my head in thought. “It’s almost like every time I try to start a conversation, he gets all weird on me.”

Nas’ expression shifted. She spoke quietly but defensively, “It’s not his fault, Mina. It’s just the way he is. I don’t expect you to understand, but trust me—he can’t help it.” She followed this with, “Don’t judge him. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t know how to be social.”

I blinked at her protective tone. “I’m not judging him, Nas. I just have questions. Like, why won’t he talk to me about himself, and why the hell does he lock us into his bedroom at night?”

Nas sat back, her mouth agape. “You’re sleeping with him?”

“What?” I flushed and almost shouted, “No!” I huffed out an unimpressed laugh. “He doesn’t trust me not to steal from him, so he told me as long as I’m staying with him that we’ll be sleeping in the same room. I sleep in the bed, and he sleeps on the pullout.” She didn’t look convinced. I sipped at my water, my mouth suddenly dry. “I swear we’re not bumping uglies, Nas. I swear.”

A small smile graced her pretty face. “I honestly wouldn’t care if you were; it’s just that he doesn’t let anyone…” She faded out, shaking her head, suddenly smiling like a loon. “You have no idea how much of a big deal that is, Mina. But we don’t have time for that, so never mind.” She cleared her throat, sitting up straight. “Right, so, flirting one-oh-one with Nas has officially commenced.” She winked. “Take note, little Mina. Women would kill for the information I’m about to give you.”

Whining Mina was back. “I still don’t understand why I need to know this stuff.”

Then Nas said the magic words. “I guarantee your tips will triple.”

Well, that caught my attention. I listened intently.

She began. “Rule one: Lean in. Close the gap. You’re going to want to get close to the men you’re flirting with. Smile and give them your undivided attention. Don’t forget to make eye contact.” She leaned over the table and, smiling shyly, batted her lashes, touching my arm. “Slight touches are okay, just make it look like you couldn’t hear their order over the music. If they compliment you, lower your lashes and smile shyly. Men love the innocent types.”

That seemed straightforward. “Okay. That doesn’t sound too hard to remember.”

“Never—and I mean never—give your name on the first drink. It’ll keep them coming back for more and they’ll order again and again just to have a minute of your attention.” She went on, “I’d advise you to start calling yourself Gypsy from now on, sort of like a stage name. It has men thinking you’re all wild and free-spirited and shit.” I rolled my eyes and she scolded me. “Hey, these men are helping pay your wages.”

Oh, she didn’t need to tell me. I knew it, and I was beyond appreciative, but it kind of seemed like we were treating these men like they were stupid.

“If a guy gives you a solid tip, thank him, fold up the money, and put it in your bra right in front of him. It’s like putting on a little show for him. If he’s feeling generous and leaves a ridiculous tip, lean over the bar, grab his shirtfront into a tight fist, pull him close, and kiss his cheek real slow. Men go bananas for that crap.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever do that, but it was good to know. I listened intently as she explained the art of flirting. “Words of caution though: Don’t offer anything you’re not willing to give. You give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile. Don’t ever kiss a patron on the lips. He’ll take it as an invitation and possibly get grabby.” Her brows rose. “It won’t end well.”

I nodded. Yeah, I could see that ending badly.

Nas finished up just as our meals arrived. “And that concludes our lessons for the day.” She grinned, watching me eye my fettuccini Alfredo with avocado hungrily. “Eat up.”

I ate with gusto, and she chuckled as I moaned throughout my meal. When we were done, I groaned and clutched my belly. “Oh, God, I’m so full.” Then I laughed. “I never thought I’d hear myself say that.”

She smiled, jerking her chin toward me. “You’re looking a lot better.”

I rubbed my belly proudly. “Already gained four pounds this week.” Her lips pursed as if she were impressed. “Eighteen more to go to get to my regular weight.”

Her fond smile warmed me. “We’ll get there, Mina.”

She said it as if we were a team. As if she would see me through. Like we were more than associates. Like we were friends.