A flirty bartender entraps two men, an average guy and a billionaire. She's sought after by both men, who desire her. Madison Hart is outspoken, determined, and set on marriage. Madison is rushed into a new world of lust, temptation, pain, emotion...
THE HOTTEST BACHELOR OF THE YEAR, SEEN WITH A MYSTERY WOMAN.
FILTHY RICH AND SINGLE, FIND OUT WHY J.H IS WITHOUT A RING.
WHO IS J.H, YOU ASK? FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE MAN VOTED WORLD'S SEXIEST.
"Impressive, right?"
"It is...." I shrug in agreement. "I still think he's beyond me. Plus, he was seen with a mystery woman and is single. That means he's a Casanova. That's not my type, so don't set up that talk." I throw her a stern look and then go back to eating. As much as I'm denying him, I can't help but allow his photos to stain my vision.
He's beautiful...more beautiful than I assumed. From far away, I couldn't tell. I knew he was good-looking, not that the guy was drop-dead gorgeous. He's a billionaire, so he has women in bed daily, if not weekly. I'm not that cheap...or that disposable. I'll just continue treating him as eye candy.
At the bar, I conjure up fizzy gin drinks. Bloody Mary, Bloody Elixir, Anna Bananas, Sour Whiskey, and Mai Tai. And the toughest drink for any bartender. The Old Fashioned. I select a fine De Luxe Crown Royal, syrup, 3 dashes of bitters. Combine all ingredients into an icy mixer and stir until the drink frosts. I strain it into a glass of chopped ice and add an orange twist.
I hand the drink over to a platinum-blonde guy who's dazzled by my accurate technique. "It appears you made it to perfection." His baritone voice praises. "But looks can deceive."
"They can." I watch the icy glass in his hand. "Have a taste." He puts the glass rim to his lips without taking his gray eyes from mine and samples the drink. I lower my gaze to his mouth, then back to his eyes. "Good?"
The man swallows the liquid, then sniffs the beverage. "It's perfect, doll. I'm sure you're the same."
A furious woman spots me blush and bat my eyes. The scorned glare she shoots at the back of his head reveals that she's his wife. "Adam!" A redhead woman stomps over, glowers at me, then pulls her husband away. "You damn slut!" She says more to me than her husband. I snort and begin to tidy my station.
"You need to stop starting drama with wives," Lily says from the opposite side of the counter. "You damn slut!" She mocks the woman's catty voice and bursts into laughter.
"The men always start it. I just wanted him to taste the drink."
"Lies, all lies, you did not word it that way."
"Okay...maybe it was 5% my fault."
"5%??" She raises her brows.
"Okay...it was 40/60."
"That sounds about right."
"DAVIDSON!" A big-bellied guy yells.
"Uh oh."
"How many times do I have to tell you this isn't a chat room?? Work the tables!" He barks.
Lily whips around and hurries back to the dining guest. "Sorry, sir."
I go on sorting bottles of alcohol to one side and equipment to another. "Madison." The bald man in a suit, walks to me with a proud smile. "Have you read the Yelp reviews...and the feedback notes in the breakroom?"
"No..."I shake my head. "Why? Is it bad news?"
"The bar has ten five-star reviews and twelve notes about your quick and precise service."
"Oh!"
"Keep up the good work. I need you on the 4th of July, don't let me down."
"I'll be here."
"Good, good, carry on." The big man pats me on the back before strolling the banquet hall to survey his subordinates.
Yay! Hopefully, I'll get a raise soon. I wipe the counter and rinse out shakers, glasses, and utensils. This Sunday night is slower. The lines aren't bad; my area has a few buyers here and there. This is one of the true Sundays where time slugs. I double wash bar equipment, so I'm not standing still for too long. Then I stare around the hall. The tables are full of plates of shrimp, lobster, glazed bread, steak filets, chili con carne, potato salad, and veggies.
The smell of the food rumbles my stomach. When dessert, cheesecake, is laid on the tables, I want to gorge. I want to steal a plate and chomp it down. But that will ruin my beauty diet. I have to say, my skin is glowing, and my pores are tighter. Even the bumps on my forehead have decreased drastically. I'll keep to the cleanse just so I can look good without makeup. I really want that natural beauty appearance. I'd rather not cake up my face with makeup whenever I want to feel pretty.
The white cloth tables clear one by one; it's close to 10:00 pm. That's when this joint shuts down. I can't wait to get home and soak my feet. I enjoy being a bartender, but it's killing my feet! When the hall is clear of customers, the crew and I start cleaning up. Wiping counters, removing tablecloths for washing, and placing decor from each table into a tall bin. This takes about 30 minutes every night. The last one to finish gets laundry duty and has to lock up.
Lily is going slower than she usually does. I find this odd. I pull down a gate that divides the bar and bend to lock it. The others sweep and dust and twist keys into the holes of the French doors. I go to see why Lil is dusting so slowly. "Come on, turtle, my feet hurt."
"Wait..." She sneakily eyes the other workers.
"What's that look?"
"Nothing." She says in a higher octave.
"You did something."
"Nope."
"Lil?!"
"See you guys tomorrow." One employee bids us farewell. A few seconds later, the remaining five head out with fatigued waves and mumbles. They're beat...so am I. We wave back. Lily drops her duster onto a cart with the others and pushes a laundry bin underneath it. I collect the brooms and scan the room for anything else that might have been left behind. Nothing is on the floor or the tables.
"Spill it." Lily steers the cart from the room and into a corridor. I shut the entry doors and lock them. "Well??"
"Nothing." In the laundry room, we load the tablecloths into the washer. It has a chute that connects both machines so the wet laundry can be transferred over when ready.
"Nah...you did something." My friend zips her lips and winks at me. I get nothing out of her for the rest of the night.
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