Page 16
Story: Perfect Pursuit
He whirls on them and they both try to stifle their laughter, but not the bartender. She chortles, “Surprised your big…brain didn’t come up with that one, Levi. Must have had it thrust into other things at the time when they taught that in psych.”
“Shut. The. Hell. Up.” He bellows.
“Yeah, the chances of that are slim.” She comes from around the counter and holds out her hand. “Caroline Mars.”
“Fallon Brookes.”
Without waiting a beat, she says, “Ignore Levi. Y’all are hired.”
“Goddamn it, Caroline,” he snaps.
“We need waitresses, and we need ones who think with their brains and not feel the need to fall to their knees to suck your cock first,” she fires back. She points at me. “She thinks and presumably so do her friends. Stop dicking around—or worse yet, hiring our staff with your dick. Bring people on who will keep bodies in the seats before our profits cause us to close the doors.”
If this was a cartoon, steam would be escaping from Levi’s ears. Still, he tempers his ill will down enough to grit out, “It would be appreciated if you could start training this week.”
I shrug. “Sure. Do you need our school schedules?”
Levi throws up his hands. “Work that shit out with Caroline.” Then he storms off and slams out the back door.
I’m about to repeat the question to Caroline when one of the few daytime die hards hands me a twenty. I cock my head to the side. “What’s this for?”
“A thank you. If I don’t have to sing that song every time some drunk asshole rings that bell, lassie, I’ll consider it a miracle. A few times a night, sure. Every bar has its shtick. Last weekend, those drunk dipshits rang it fifty-seven times.” His voice is aggrieved.
“You deserve a medal.”
He lifts his beer. “I’ll take a refill.”
“I’ll get right on it.” I pat his shoulder as I make my way toward the high-polished mahogany bar. As soon as I reach it, Caroline finishes pulling a fresh draft. Immediately I drop the twenty into her tip jar. She winks before declaring, “I’m going to like you, Fallon.”
“Same.”
“You don’t seem to mind shoving Levi into place.”
A flash of Ethan’s face comes and goes in my mind before I reply, “I’ve generally found most men are worth screwing well.”
Her lips curve into a smile that transforms her face from stunning to exquisite. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
I wave Layla and Ruby over. “It’s going to be a hell of a lot more than that.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
Sometimes stepping away from a situation can give you an entirely new perspective.
—The Fireside Psychologist
Four Years Ago—May
Last night, my best friend blew into town and now finally, my apartment above Galileo’s feels like home. Austyn admired the space I decorated in my quirky, signature style. “This place is exactly like you described.”
I sit down on the guest room bed and curl my leg beneath me. “I love it here, Austyn. I never expected to.”
Her penetrating blue eyes—eyes she inherited from her infamous father—spear into mine. “You’re the one who left UT.”
“Did it feel right to you after everything that happened?”
“Nothing would have felt right except being in New York.” A flash of sadness ripples across her face.
“Shut. The. Hell. Up.” He bellows.
“Yeah, the chances of that are slim.” She comes from around the counter and holds out her hand. “Caroline Mars.”
“Fallon Brookes.”
Without waiting a beat, she says, “Ignore Levi. Y’all are hired.”
“Goddamn it, Caroline,” he snaps.
“We need waitresses, and we need ones who think with their brains and not feel the need to fall to their knees to suck your cock first,” she fires back. She points at me. “She thinks and presumably so do her friends. Stop dicking around—or worse yet, hiring our staff with your dick. Bring people on who will keep bodies in the seats before our profits cause us to close the doors.”
If this was a cartoon, steam would be escaping from Levi’s ears. Still, he tempers his ill will down enough to grit out, “It would be appreciated if you could start training this week.”
I shrug. “Sure. Do you need our school schedules?”
Levi throws up his hands. “Work that shit out with Caroline.” Then he storms off and slams out the back door.
I’m about to repeat the question to Caroline when one of the few daytime die hards hands me a twenty. I cock my head to the side. “What’s this for?”
“A thank you. If I don’t have to sing that song every time some drunk asshole rings that bell, lassie, I’ll consider it a miracle. A few times a night, sure. Every bar has its shtick. Last weekend, those drunk dipshits rang it fifty-seven times.” His voice is aggrieved.
“You deserve a medal.”
He lifts his beer. “I’ll take a refill.”
“I’ll get right on it.” I pat his shoulder as I make my way toward the high-polished mahogany bar. As soon as I reach it, Caroline finishes pulling a fresh draft. Immediately I drop the twenty into her tip jar. She winks before declaring, “I’m going to like you, Fallon.”
“Same.”
“You don’t seem to mind shoving Levi into place.”
A flash of Ethan’s face comes and goes in my mind before I reply, “I’ve generally found most men are worth screwing well.”
Her lips curve into a smile that transforms her face from stunning to exquisite. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
I wave Layla and Ruby over. “It’s going to be a hell of a lot more than that.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
Sometimes stepping away from a situation can give you an entirely new perspective.
—The Fireside Psychologist
Four Years Ago—May
Last night, my best friend blew into town and now finally, my apartment above Galileo’s feels like home. Austyn admired the space I decorated in my quirky, signature style. “This place is exactly like you described.”
I sit down on the guest room bed and curl my leg beneath me. “I love it here, Austyn. I never expected to.”
Her penetrating blue eyes—eyes she inherited from her infamous father—spear into mine. “You’re the one who left UT.”
“Did it feel right to you after everything that happened?”
“Nothing would have felt right except being in New York.” A flash of sadness ripples across her face.
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