Page 4 of Dirty Boss

I wanted to cry, but I wouldn’t. I’d done enough of that, and I was sick of feeling weak.

Salvation was one phone call away; all I had to do was call my mother and tell her I was ready to kowtow to her and Dad. I was ready to admit that I’d been wrong, and I would do whatever it took to salvage our reputation in the eyes of society.

To hell with that.

Theyhad turned their backs on me, just like James had when he realized my family’s money wasn’t in fact mine. My dad had flung insults at me when he found out about the man I loved. The man I’d thought loved me back. I was a worthless whore, and I’d go out and earn money like one before he let me parade myself around in front of all of New York with James. That’s what my father had said, his face purple with rage, my mother crumbling in on herself in the corner of the room, her eyes baleful as they daggered into me.

I hadn’t played by the rules, and I’d been excised for it. Poof! Life as I knew it, gone.

I thought James would be there to help me pick up the pieces. Ha. It surprised me how naive I was, sometimes. How utterly stupid.

No, I wasn’t going to grovel. Humiliation on that level wasn’t something I was willing to endure—not again.

If I went back, what would happen? I’d be handed off to some other man to marry. I’d make a baby or two, and smile for pictures at glitzy events. I’d find solace in the bottle, or maybe prescription pills. I’d be yet another too-thin, zombified woman who’d sold her integrity for a plush bed and a closet full of beautiful clothes.

I couldn’t do it. A part of me was surprised by that, as I was sure my parents had been. But I just couldn’t spend the next several decades of my life living a vapid existence, even if it was more comfortable than this. At least here, with my nails worn down to nubs and my body aching with every movement, I knew I was alive.

Another deep breath of fetid air, and I stood up straighter. The chill in the air pierced my thin white button-down, and I glanced sideways at the street. People and cars rushed by, oblivious to me. Oblivious to my pain.

I was going to get fired. Again. I wouldn’t be able to make my rent. None of my friends or acquaintances from my old life spoke to me anymore—and I’d been too focused on survival to think about making any new friends this past year—so there wouldn’t even be a couch or a spare bedroom for me to crash on.

I was out in the cold, on my own, and I’d just messed upagain.

Sighing, I pulled the door open. Might as well face the music. But when I made it back to the dining room, Elena just handed me the billfold from my table and looked into my eyes.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Good. You’ve got a four-top on table seventeen. The old man with the gold watch used to be a regular; treat him like it. His name is Wentworth.”

“Sure,” I said, and I peeked in the billfold, expecting a whole lot of nothing, and half looking forward to cursing Cheap Suit for the next few days. It was nice to have a target for my aggression.

Instead, a crisp, fresh, hundred-dollar bill fluttered out of the leather holder and landed between my black shoes.

Moving slowly, I picked it up and held it like it was a dead rat that I’d been charged with removing.

“Something wrong?” Elena asked, a brow arched.

“The guy on table fourteen left this…for me?”

Elena nodded.

“Did he say anything?”

“Not a word.”

I crumpled the bill in my fist, scowling. That asshole was rubbing my face in it! HeknewI was broke, and this was a message. I was the dirt under his shoe. I was the uppity waitress who would take his money because I needed it more than he did.

Damn him! Damn his arrogance! Damn him for beingright!

An image flashed through my mind: me, rushing out of the restaurant, catching him before he disappeared. I’d put a hand on his arm and make him turn, and then I’d stuff his filthy money down his throat and make him choke on it.

God, that would feel so good.

Unfortunately, it would also mean I couldn’t pay my overdue power bill. Apparently, when you didn’t pay it, the power company shut your electricity off. This was something I’d learned when I first moved into my own apartment after my life fell apart. I hadn’t realized I needed to open an account in the first place, let alone pay for electricity myself.

I know. Iknow. I felt as out of touch and pathetic as I should’ve. Real lifesucked.