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“Are you guys doing anything after? We’re having a party!” Tessa screams after them as they walk away, completely ignoring her stupid ass.
She stares after them with such hope. Lust practically pools around her. But I have news for her. They’re mine. And the sooner she gets it through her thick, bitchy skull—the better we’ll all be. Maybe I should kick her out and never let her come back. Hmm. Manager status does have its perks.
“I’m getting the impression they aren’t fond of her,” Ode stage-whispers into my ear, loud enough for the perky blonde to hear.
Tessa turns on her toes with a frown, marching up to the bar. Her scathing eyes rake up and down my body, giving me her best stink eye.
“I need four mojitos right now.” The venom in her voice makes me want to take her into the alleyway and let my fists have their way with her face. Or maybe I could grab our trusty baseball bat from behind the bar and shove it down her throat…
Nah. She’s not worth it. She’s a try-hard, trying to get into the good graces of the boys who I have no doubt will be famous in a year. I can’t wait to sink my toes into the sands of the beach and wallow in the sun. Ah. Never in a million years did I think I’d be doing something like this. Helping them and potentially meeting some of my family. Not that I’m holding any expectations on that end, but still. I’m allowed to dream of a future that might not be...
“Of course,” Marcus replies in a deep, professional voice, turning to mix the drinks even though he’s muttering under his breath about her attitude.
“So, what exactly do you do around here?” Tessa asks me haughtily, lifting her nose in the air.
I blow out a breath. Sheesh. People don’t have enough respect to read the word Manager on my tit. It’s big and bold in red letters, but no one seems to notice. So, I point to the word with a raised brow, laying it all out for her.
“I run the show.” Simple but effective.
Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows pop up, and she rolls her eyes with disgust. Lifting her lip, she leans against the bar getting as close to my face as possible. If I were anywhere else, she and I would have major problems.
“By the way, Central Trash. I see how you look at them,” she says, pointing to the empty stage. “And I just wanted to warn you; they’re mine,” she snarls the word mine possessively.
I nod with a smirk. She could piss on them, and they still wouldn’t be hers.
“Sure, Tess. Whatever you say,” I hum when Marcus slides over her drinks more forcefully than necessary, spilling liquid over the rims of the glasses. “But I swear we had this discussion already. Do my words go in one ear and out the other? Have you choked on too much cock to understand? Has it damaged your hearing? Let me repeat myself. They’re mine. You'll find yourself missing fingers if you lay your hands on what’s mine again.” I raise a brow when her eyes go wide, and she sputters.
“You’re…you’re threatening me! Did you hear?” No one pays her a lick of attention, and she huffs, turning on her heel.
“Unclench that jaw, bestie,” Ode snickers, pinching my cheek and pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Ode,” I groan, swatting her away.
“Don’t worry, baby girl,” Leon says from my side, watching Tessa make her way back through the crowd. She bounces off a few people giving them the stink eye and yells something in their faces. “Guys like that don’t want a girl like that. That’s who their parents wish they had. Hell, I bet all their parents want some stuck-up rich bitch for a daughter-in-law. But those Lakeview boys always have a weakness for one thing,” he says, side-eyeing me with a smirk.
“Yeah? And what’s that? Oh, genius,” I snark back when he laughs.
“The magical Central pussy.” He cackles when I slug him in the arm with a heavy punch.
“You’re such a dick,” I grumble as the lights dim and the crowd lets out a collective whoop of excitement.
More people pack the place than ever before. Even Sorcha’s concert didn’t garner this much attention. All my hard work from their social media platforms has finally paid off, and we’re about to reap what we’ve sowed all the way to California.
“I have one!” Leon shouts, grabbing his crotch. Leon ducks his head when I try to swing on him again and cackles when I miss. “Now, Miss manager! I’ll go back to the kitchen. No need to resort to violence.” A large grin takes over when I narrow my eyes at him.
“Oh, I’ll resort to violence, dickhead. Back to work!” I bark out my demand, sending him a wink in return.
Once Leon disappears into the kitchen with a playful grin, I turn back to the men of the hour.
“You have it so damn bad,” Ode remarks, leaning against the bar.
“Don’t you have work, too?” I grumble when she bursts out laughing, shoving me to the side.
“Nah, bitch. I’m friends with the manager. Didn’t you know? She needs my moral support right now,” she says with a grin, leaning closer. “How fast are you falling?” Her eyebrows wiggle out of control until I flick them, and she laughs again.
“It’s bad, Ode,” I groan, rubbing my forehead. “How can this happen again? And not just one…fuck.”
“Oh my god, you love all of them? Even the dickhead on guitar?” she says, pointing directly at Asher, who raises a brow at her from the stage like he heard every word. With the chants of the raging crowd and whoops or excitement ringing through the place, there’s no way.
