Page 7 of Hooked on Marshall (Hooked #9)

You can’t ignore me forever, my Lovely Rose. As soon as the paperwork is final, I’m going to find you. I’m losing my mind not being with you. I miss you so much.

I sob and slide down the wall until I’m squatting. Then I hold my head in my left hand and let go again. I’m so lost in my misery I don’t realize anyone else is out here. Until I hear his concerned voice.

“Lana?”

I suck in a sharp breath and shoot to my feet. When I do, I stumble, and my phone slips out of my hand. Before I can reach for it, Marshall does. I close my eyes and shake my head.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I slowly open my eyes. He’s right there in front of me. His face etched with concern. Slowly, he hands me my phone. I take it and quickly slip it into my back pocket.

“Sorry,” I say again. “I’ll get back-”

“Stop it, Lana,” he says. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m fine,” I almost growl out. “I just need a minute, and I’ll get back to work.”

“Work can wait,” he snaps. “I’m more concerned about you and whatever is making you so upset.”

“It’s nothing,” I snap. “And since it’s not affecting my job, it’s really none of your concern.”

He flinches at this. But when he takes a breath to say more, I rush around him and back into the building.

I clock back in and go against policy by leaving my cell phone in my back pocket.

Mark always required us to leave them behind the bar.

And I can only assume that Marshall will follow that protocol.

But until I know for sure, I’ll take the risk.

Because the last thing I need is for Marshall to catch wind of who Jonas is and the fact that he won’t leave me alone.

I tried to block his number earlier this week, but once he figured it out, he changed his number, too.

At this point, I’m just doing my best to ignore him.

I don’t want to read his messages, but I also want to know if he’s figured out that I’ve come back home.

If that’s the case, then I need to be prepared for one of two things: facing him or running from him.

Somehow, I manage to keep my interactions with Marshall to a minimum for the rest of the night.

But not without noticing his annoyance with me because of it.

I take another break just before nine in the evening, and I make sure to walk to my car to check my phone.

When I do, I find a half dozen more messages from Jonas.

His frustration is evident at my lack of response. And while he wasn’t the type to resort to bursts of anger or violence, he was very good at manipulating people. Which is how I ended up ruining my career for him.

At a loss for what to do, I finally respond. I keep my reply short and to the point. And I pray that it’s enough to end this.

I want nothing to do with you anymore, Jonas. Please stop texting and calling. I’ve moved on with my life and want to enjoy it. You should enjoy yours as well. Without me.

I reread it three times before hitting send.

Then I close my eyes and rest my head back on my seat.

In less than thirty seconds, my phone is ringing.

And it’s Jonas. I decline the call. Twenty seconds pass before it rings again.

Still Jonas. I decline the call again. Ten seconds and he calls again.

I let it ring until it goes to voicemail.

I watch and wait. Sure enough, I get a notification that he’s left a message.

Steeling my nerve, I tap my screen to listen.

“Lana, you can’t do this to me,” he chokes out.

“Everything I ever said I wanted with you was the truth. And I still want it. I’m sorry things worked out the way they did, but my feelings for you were so strong that I allowed us to break the rules.

I want you back here with me. I’ve spoken with my Uncle Josh at length about my feelings for you and he’s agreed to rehire you as long as we can keep things professional on the job.

And I’ll admit that was my fault. Please, please don’t let us be over. I’ll…be in touch again soon.”

With that, he hangs up.

And all the shame and regret I felt when we were discovered comes flooding back.

I check the time and see that I still have ten minutes left on my second break.

I need that time to get myself back together, so I don’t get questioned by Marshall again.

Saturday nights are always busy, and I need to bring in the tips so I can get myself back on my feet.

When it’s time, I get back to my job, still keeping my phone in my back pocket.

As busy as it is, I don’t even have to think about my interactions with Marshall when they happen.

But as the night wears on, it becomes clear that a group of men at a high top in the bar have overindulged.

They are loud and rowdy and have come on to every waitress that has passed by their table.

At last call, they voice their disdain but quickly call over their waiter to order another round.

He walks over to Marshall to put the order in, but Marshall refuses.

And that’s when things get ugly.

To my surprise, Marshall gives the subtle signal for the police to be contacted.

Since I’m closest to the landline, I handle it.

As Marshall approaches the angry men, I give the dispatcher a quick rundown of what’s going on.

She tells me there’s a unit close by and should arrive in less than five minutes.

I thank her and hang up. Then I head to the door to look for them.

Many of the other customers in the bar have gone quiet as they wait for things to escalate.

Some, who are regulars, have risen and moved into a position to assist if necessary.

As diplomatic as Mark, Marshall quietly explains to the men why he will not serve them anymore more alcohol.

And politely asks them to pay their bill and leave.

Unaware that the police are already on their way, there’s a brief episode of pushing and shoving.

But the combatants are quickly outnumbered and wisely decide to do what’s asked of them.

When their bill is paid, a brief round of applause follows their departure. I push open the door to allow them to exit, smiling when I see a police vehicle enter the front lot. Just as the last of the group walks outside, he turns to get in one last dig at Marshall.

Or so I think.

“Since we can’t get served alcohol, maybe we can get served something else.”

Before I realize what’s happening, he yanks me off my feet and tosses me over his shoulder.