Better When He's Bold
Page 14
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Well, shit. That didn’t bode well for me being able to keep his charm and allure at arm’s length, but I didn’t have a choice. I really couldn’t afford a new computer.
“Shoot me a text after you hear from him to let me know when to expect him.”
She nodded and gave me a hug. She smelled like sunshine and something bright. I don’t know how someone who had been continually beaten down, handed the worst life had to offer over and over again, could be so delightful. She was a marvel and I felt really lucky that she liked me enough to let me into her closely guarded inner circle.
“Thanks, Dovie.”
She snorted. “Don’t thank me until you know if he can actually fix it or not. Blue screens usually mean death when it comes to computers.”
I wished she hadn’t reminded me. I put my stuff away as well and climbed to my feet. I had to head over to the restaurant and get ready for my shift.
“Well, still, thanks for thinking of a solution I can actually afford.”
We walked toward the center of the campus and she stopped me with a hand on my forearm right before we had to split and go our separate ways.
“Look, Brysen.” Her dark green eyes were serious and steady. “You took me in without asking questions when my life was a mess. You’ve always been nice, never pried or asked questions I couldn’t or wouldn’t answer. If you need some help, let me know.” Her gaze shifted to the ground then back up to me. “I don’t have a lot, but Bax does, and he’ll hand it over without question if I want it.”
She was going to make me cry. I reached out and gave her one last squeeze. “No, I’m fine. I just have to bide my time. We all have to make sacrifices, I guess.”
She was willing to risk life and limb and even her freedom in order to stay with her man. I was willing to sacrifice my independence—my vision of what I thought my life would be—for my sister.
I made my way to the car and drove to the restaurant I had worked at for almost two years. It hovered right on the edge of the Point and the Hill, so there was an odd mix of customers we served. I made decent money, and I liked that it was close to school and offered me a break from the stress at home and the opportunity to meet people I probably never would’ve otherwise.
I went into the back bathroom and switched into the tiny black skirt and too-tight black T-shirt that constituted as my uniform. Really, as long as we wore all black, the owner didn’t care how we dressed, but I had learned real quick that the sexier the outfit, the redder the lipstick, the shinier my hair looked, the more money I brought home from the shift. It was so “unevolved,” so sexist, that it galled, but I needed every single penny I could put my hands on, and looking hot was a surefire way to get it.
I mean, I wasn’t anything that special. I had nice skin and big blue eyes, but a pretty blonde was a dime a dozen, and there was nothing I had going on that made me stand out in a crowd. I think the fact that I was naturally curvy, not too tall, not too short, but endowed in all the right places and then some, really was what most of my recent admirers had been after. I had a rocking body and had no trouble exploiting that fact if it meant I kept my head above water financially and didn’t have to resort to grinding on a pole or paying the bills on my back.
I fluffed up my asymmetrical bob, spritzed on some perfume, and hit the floor running. It was “Thirsty Thursday,” so that meant the place would be packed with a lot of kids from the university headed in different directions to drink the night away. The clubs on the Hill offered expensive martini bars and high-end dance clubs. The places kids went in the Point were all underground. You had to know someone that knew someone to even find out where they were. I heard the stories of the drugs, the bloody fights, the thumping music, and “anything goes” atmosphere. I had even been to one once with Dovie when she had been tricked into going just so she would have to watch Bax get the crap pounded out of him by a drugged-up monster. I didn’t fit in either place, so it was no skin off my nose that I could work the crowd and make money off either taste while they pre-gamed. Really, it was the story of my life. Too poor to belong up on the Hill, and too rich to fit in with the hard-knock life of the Point. I just existed somewhere in the middle of everything.
I was running like crazy for the first few hours. Ramon, the bartender, was taking forever with the drinks, and the kitchen crashed more than once while the tickets piled up. I was pretty organized and had impeccable time-management skills, so it all went pretty smooth. By the time I got to take a breather and find a second to shove a taco in my face before the next wave, I was surprised when Ramon wandered over to the service area, where I was hiding with a bemused expression on his face.
“Shoot me a text after you hear from him to let me know when to expect him.”
She nodded and gave me a hug. She smelled like sunshine and something bright. I don’t know how someone who had been continually beaten down, handed the worst life had to offer over and over again, could be so delightful. She was a marvel and I felt really lucky that she liked me enough to let me into her closely guarded inner circle.
“Thanks, Dovie.”
She snorted. “Don’t thank me until you know if he can actually fix it or not. Blue screens usually mean death when it comes to computers.”
I wished she hadn’t reminded me. I put my stuff away as well and climbed to my feet. I had to head over to the restaurant and get ready for my shift.
“Well, still, thanks for thinking of a solution I can actually afford.”
We walked toward the center of the campus and she stopped me with a hand on my forearm right before we had to split and go our separate ways.
“Look, Brysen.” Her dark green eyes were serious and steady. “You took me in without asking questions when my life was a mess. You’ve always been nice, never pried or asked questions I couldn’t or wouldn’t answer. If you need some help, let me know.” Her gaze shifted to the ground then back up to me. “I don’t have a lot, but Bax does, and he’ll hand it over without question if I want it.”
She was going to make me cry. I reached out and gave her one last squeeze. “No, I’m fine. I just have to bide my time. We all have to make sacrifices, I guess.”
She was willing to risk life and limb and even her freedom in order to stay with her man. I was willing to sacrifice my independence—my vision of what I thought my life would be—for my sister.
I made my way to the car and drove to the restaurant I had worked at for almost two years. It hovered right on the edge of the Point and the Hill, so there was an odd mix of customers we served. I made decent money, and I liked that it was close to school and offered me a break from the stress at home and the opportunity to meet people I probably never would’ve otherwise.
I went into the back bathroom and switched into the tiny black skirt and too-tight black T-shirt that constituted as my uniform. Really, as long as we wore all black, the owner didn’t care how we dressed, but I had learned real quick that the sexier the outfit, the redder the lipstick, the shinier my hair looked, the more money I brought home from the shift. It was so “unevolved,” so sexist, that it galled, but I needed every single penny I could put my hands on, and looking hot was a surefire way to get it.
I mean, I wasn’t anything that special. I had nice skin and big blue eyes, but a pretty blonde was a dime a dozen, and there was nothing I had going on that made me stand out in a crowd. I think the fact that I was naturally curvy, not too tall, not too short, but endowed in all the right places and then some, really was what most of my recent admirers had been after. I had a rocking body and had no trouble exploiting that fact if it meant I kept my head above water financially and didn’t have to resort to grinding on a pole or paying the bills on my back.
I fluffed up my asymmetrical bob, spritzed on some perfume, and hit the floor running. It was “Thirsty Thursday,” so that meant the place would be packed with a lot of kids from the university headed in different directions to drink the night away. The clubs on the Hill offered expensive martini bars and high-end dance clubs. The places kids went in the Point were all underground. You had to know someone that knew someone to even find out where they were. I heard the stories of the drugs, the bloody fights, the thumping music, and “anything goes” atmosphere. I had even been to one once with Dovie when she had been tricked into going just so she would have to watch Bax get the crap pounded out of him by a drugged-up monster. I didn’t fit in either place, so it was no skin off my nose that I could work the crowd and make money off either taste while they pre-gamed. Really, it was the story of my life. Too poor to belong up on the Hill, and too rich to fit in with the hard-knock life of the Point. I just existed somewhere in the middle of everything.
I was running like crazy for the first few hours. Ramon, the bartender, was taking forever with the drinks, and the kitchen crashed more than once while the tickets piled up. I was pretty organized and had impeccable time-management skills, so it all went pretty smooth. By the time I got to take a breather and find a second to shove a taco in my face before the next wave, I was surprised when Ramon wandered over to the service area, where I was hiding with a bemused expression on his face.
