The Carrero Contract - Amending Agreements (Book 2 of Contract Trilogy)

8

'You will do as you are told and work in here. I won't have my customers made uncomfortable by the mess of your face.'

'Is the issue that I'm not fuckable today? Or do your customers keep their women tied to the kitchen sink when they have gotten out of line and required a smack? Afraid of the backlash? Looking bad to your men folk?' I sass at him, tongue operating without thought and for once, I don't care. She has kept silent long enough in this hellhole. My temper is very frail and easy to rile this morning.

'Shut up and get over here,' Joe snaps at me, and despite the urge to tell him to go fuck himself I obediently do as I am told. I am more than aware of my financial situation and I should keep that at the forefront of my mind today, even if the urge is to stab him in the face. I just need to keep my mouth shut and get this shift over with, so I can at least use today's tips to get home and back tomorrow.

My phone vibrates in my bag as I walk to the kitchen to dump it and my jacket on the staff hangers and glance at it quickly as I hang my things up. It's Mico. And despite myself, I smile and open the message.

'Still know how to rile him. You never change. M X'

I guess their security took my message back to his boss already and Alexi is having himself a little temper tantrum. I can't help but feel a little smug, a grin spreading over my face with major satisfaction at the thought of it, and I giggle to myself. I can still piss him off with minimum effort and it feels good.

I reply quickly, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Joe doesn't catch me texting on the clock and send Mico my response.

'Alexi still knows how to be a controlling arsehole. I'm not the one who needs to change. X'

I feel satisfied with that reply and bury my phone back in my cheap handbag and leave it on silent. Despite the sore face and impending death from the lurgy, I have, it makes me feel a little chipper in my mood. Annoying Alexi is almost as good as finding a bonus in my pay cheque. It never gets old. He is too easy to trigger when you know how.

I throw on the apron hanging on the door that has probably not seen a washer in months and tie it on tightly; prepping myself for a gruelling day in the hell zone he calls a kitchen. I try and avoid this most days as it's hotter than hell, greasy and smoky and has the added insult of banging against Joe every time he moves. No doubt I will be posted on dishwasher duty or vegetable chopper but it's better than being sent home and losing a day's pay.

God knows I need the money now, more than ever.

Such is the crappiness of my life.

* * *

An hour to go and I get to leave.

It's been a day I won't forget, and I am dead on my feet. My head is swimming from lack of sleep ... completely saturated with illness. I am sicker than a dying dog, trying not to cough and sneeze every two minutes, and that letch has rubbed up against me for the umpteenth time while apparently walking to the refrigerator. I cringe as his sweaty clunky body presses me against the sink again, painfully banging my pelvic bone against the steel ridge that sticks out, and I know it's going to leave a bruise. It more than riles my temper which has been hanging by a thread for hours; completely snaps it when this time a hand slides across my arse as he does so, copping a grope and leaning against me as he cages me in. I freeze, breathing out slowly to control the rage burning inside of me and try not to react.

'Cosy in here, huh?' He whispers hoarsely into the back of my hair as everything in me goes on ultimate high alert at having a man wedged behind me. Anxiety biting and clamping my chest down heavily as my limbs tighten defensively.