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I shook my head. “It wasn’t your fault. And he’s gone now. That’s all that matters.”
“For now,” the blond muttered, taking another sip of his drink, but I realized he was nursing an empty cup, his hands just looking for something to do.
Again, Lincoln cast his companions a glance. “Is this your full-time gig, Mylee? Working here?”
My eyes narrowed slightly, but I hesitated, sensing a loaded question. “Why? You offering me a job?”
All three men snickered.
“She’s quick,” the blond offered lightly, and my heart jumped. I’d only been kidding.
“Wait, what?” I laughed nervously. “You’re offering me a job?”
“When’s your next day off?” Lincoln asked, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. A card materialized in his hand, and he handed it to me.
Warily, I accepted it, glancing toward the counter, where the entire staff of Teatotler’s hung over the counter, watching me. No one seemed to care about the orders piling up.
Not the most subtle job offer.
“I’m off on Tuesdays—tomorrow,” I replied slowly, my pulse still skipping in my chest.
“Good. Can you come by our offices around ten tomorrow? The address is on the card, but we could send a car—” Lincoln offered.
“Oh, no. No, I can get there,” I interjected, the idea of a car picking me up at my shitty apartment in Washington Park appalling. I turned the credential in my hand, relishing the block letter announcing Lincoln’s full name.
Lincoln Ray, CEO
Silverpiece Corporation
It confirmed everything that Zander had said about him, but somehow, that didn’t make it any more real.
“So, we’ll see you tomorrow, Mylee Lynn? Ten o’clock?” Lincoln asked.
My brow furrowed, and I chuckled. “Okay… but what’s the job?” I asked, cocking my head.
In unison, all three men sat forward, but Lincoln smiled reassuringly. “We’ll discuss the details tomorrow.”
With that, they rose in tandem, as if they were communicating in telepathy, and Lincoln again pulled out his wallet, withdrawing several bills. He handed them to me with a wink. “This should cover any of the damages. See you tomorrow, Mylee Lynn.”
They headed out of the café, and I glanced at the surface, realizing he had left three hundred dollars in my hand.
Three hundred bucks to clean up a few spots of blood. It must be nice to be rich,I thought wistfully.
“Did they just offer you a job?” Zander demanded, almost scaling the counter. “I heard them tell you to come by the office.”
I balked, wishing he hadn’t been eavesdropping.
“No,” I lied. “Of course not.”
Zander frowned. “I could have sworn—”
“You’re wrong,” I insisted, turning away. “What job could they give me? I have no skills to offer them.”
I wasn’t going to tell anyone about this. It probably wouldn’t pan out, anyway, and if Sandra caught wind of the fact that I was looking somewhere else, she would fire me. That was all I needed: to be unemployed and homeless in the same week. Then I’d really be living the dream.
CHAPTER3
Mylee
