Taming the Bad Boy
Автор
Arri Stone
Прочтений
152K
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32
Willow’s new job at the Harper Hotel was supposed to be simple—smile, work hard, avoid trouble. But trouble comes in a dangerously handsome package named Finn. He’s the grumpy, brooding type who thinks he’s untouchable, and she’s the sharp-tongued firecracker who refuses to back down. Their banter burns hotter with every encounter, turning arguments into something neither can resist. Beneath Finn’s bad boy charm hides a man with secrets, and Willow’s not sure if she’s about to melt his walls—or get burned trying. Sparks, sass, and slow-burn chaos are on the menu, and neither of them is ready for how good it tastes.
Landing the Job
WILLOW
The problem with living day to day is that you never know how long something is going to last.
I’ve been serving in this dive bar-restaurant, if you can call it that, for the past couple of weeks.
Shit always happens, but tonight was particularly bad. A drunk customer grabbed my arm and tried to grope me, so I punched him in the face; I think I broke his nose. The greasy, handsy bastard deserved it.
The manager hauls me into the dingy office. “You can’t go hitting customers.”
“He tried to grope me.” One thing I’ve never done is back down.
“This is my place, and you do as you are told or you are fired.” He stares at me, sweat rolling down his temples.
No fucking way!
I storm out of the office and grab my bag with all my stuff in it. I am not staying around for this shit. Then, I take what I think I earned out of the till before running off into the night.
The manager chases me. “You little bitch,” he pants heavily as he tries to run after me.
I run and keep on running.
“This is what you owe me. You cocksucking fat bastard.” I shout at him.
Once I am in the clear of him ever catching me, I slow to a walk. I’m not sure how far I walk, but when I hear a lot of shouting coming from behind a closed gate, I stop.
Yeah, I’m a nosy fucker, and it always gets me in trouble. But something about this place makes me stop. Plus, I have to find my next source of income. The money I have won’t last long.
I listen to the argument, glancing up at the flickering sign above the back door: Harper’s Hotel.
“You need to fucking do your job. You’re always out here slacking, Jess.” A guy’s voice, sharp and pissed off, cuts through the night.
“But, I just need—” Jess’s voice is all whiny and desperate.
“Just need what? Another hit? Go pack up your locker. I can’t do this anymore. This place and your tables don’t serve themselves, and it isn’t fair to the others.” He sounds like he’s had this conversation a million times.
“Please, James, give me one more chance. I need this job.” She’s practically begging.
“No, sorry, this is the last time. Now get out of here.” James is done with her.
She screams, then starts crying. It lasts maybe five seconds before she starts cussing him out.
Then a door slams, and everything goes quiet.
“Bitch… Now what am I going to do?” I watch as James runs a hand over his face, looking completely exhausted.
Well, if there’s ever been a time for an entrance, this is it.
“Hi, sorry, I overheard.”
He spins around, eyes wide. “What the fuck? Where did you come from?”
I shrug. “I was just out back and heard you. Looks like it’s either your lucky night or mine, because I’m looking for a job.” I flash him my best smile.
He looks like the kind of guy who might give me a shot—especially since he just fired Jess.
He stares at me, rubbing his temples. “Okay, so what have you done?”
“So glad you asked. I was at a place called Denny’s. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Anyway, there was this creep who kept trying to feel me up. Tonight he went too far, so I punched him in the nose and ran out.”
James groans. “I didn’t mean that!” He sighs, then looks me over again.
“Oh. Right. I’ve done plenty of waitressing jobs, and I can handle myself.” No way am I telling him this would be my third job this month.
“You can’t go hitting these customers, though.” James’s eyes widen. “Harper’s Hotel is not a greasy spoon restaurant.”
“Well, as long as nobody tries to stick their hands up my skirt, they’ll be just fine.” I grin and wink at him.
He shakes his head, but I can see the hint of a smile. “I’ll give you a chance, but only because it’s Friday night and I’m desperate. You’re out the second you piss anyone off.” He points at me, all serious.
“Yeah, okay. I’m Willow, by the way.” I hold out my hand.
“James.” He shakes it. “I’d better get you set up in the system. We’ll sort out the details tomorrow.”
“Great, show me where you want me.” I grin, feeling a little spark of hope.
As he turns away, and I notice a blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Follow me, and I’ll give you a locker.”
We go in through the back door, weaving through the busy kitchen. Chefs are everywhere, moving fast.
Only one of them looks up as I pass. He has these piercing blue eyes and looks a bit older than me—tall, with a lean build.
“That’s Ricky. Hits on all the women, so watch out.” James rolls his eyes.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll break his fingers if he tries anything with me.”
“Fuck, you can’t just say stuff like that.” James stares at me, eyes wide.
I shrug. “Well, he won’t try anything if he knows what I’ll do to him.”
James shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “No, actually, that’ll probably make him want to get in your panties even more.” He laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes me want to laugh, too.
I grin. “Well, I’ll just cut his dick off, then.” I can’t help but laugh at my own ridiculousness.
James bursts out laughing. “I think I’m going to enjoy having you here. But you’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”
“My middle name is trouble.” I wink at him, and he just shakes his head.
“All right, here we are. You can put your bag in that locker. What you’re wearing is fine for work. Here’s an apron.” He hands it to me, and I tie it around my waist.
“If you get tips, they’re yours. But if a customer skips out without paying, it comes out of your pocket, so keep an eye out.”
“Got it.”
“We work in sections. There are four, and you’ll be taking over Jess’s station.”
“Cool. How many tables in a section?”
“Six. They can be anywhere from two people to ten, depending on the night.” He raises an eyebrow, like he’s testing me.
I nod. “I can handle that.”
“Good.” He types some stuff into the computer, glancing at me for details. “Here’s your pad. It’s all electronic, so as soon as you put in the orders, the kitchen gets them right away.”
“That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, so don’t fucking break it.” He gives me a look that’s half-serious, half-pleading.
I smirk. “I’ll try not to hit anyone over the head with it.” I wink again, and James groans, dropping his head into his hands.
“Please tell me you’re joking?”
“What, I never joke.” I laugh, and James can’t help but laugh with me.
“All right, let me show you your section. Just a heads up—don’t piss off the other waitresses. I can’t babysit you all the time.”
“I’ll try not to. If they’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to them.” And I mean it.
“Oh, and stay away from the boss’s son.” He points at me, all serious.
“Who’s that?”
James rolls his eyes. “A total fuck-up. Thinks he’s some bad boy hottie, but really, he’s just a lazy ass who lives upstairs. He acts like he owns the place. Comes down for dinner every night, usually alone, sometimes with a different girl.”
“Does he have to pay?”
“He’s the only one who doesn’t. But don’t worry about him. He always sits in Laura’s section.” James nods toward her.
“Okay, cool.”
James goes over the basics with me. He’s at the front, so if I need anything, that’s where I’ll find him. We use tablets for orders, and everything gets tallied up automatically.
James handles the final bill at the end.
Honestly, this is so much easier than anything I’ve done before.
“The tablet. Take care of it. It’s big enough to fit in your hole,” he says, and I burst out laughing.
James’s face goes red. “Oh my god, I meant the hole in your apron. There’s a pocket for it.”
I’m still laughing. “So, my section—how many bookings so far?”
“You’ve got a couple coming in at seven, then a four-top at seven-thirty, then you’re free until nine when you get a table of six.”
“I made sure there was enough of a gap when Jess was working, otherwise she fucked things up.”
“Okay, so I just hang with you until my first table comes in?” This is already more fun than any other job I’ve had.
“Watch the others and see how they do things. That’s my advice.” James rolls his eyes.
“Laura’s been here the longest. That’s why she gets Finn’s table when he comes in.”
“Finn? Who’s that?”
“Oh, the boss’s son—Finn. You’ll know him when you see him.” He gives me a dramatic eye roll.
“Okay.”
I watch the others work. It’s honestly pretty simple. Take the order, get the drinks, serve the food, keep everyone happy, and hope for a good tip at the end.
I’m standing with James, chatting, when two older guys walk up to us.
“Shit, keep your mouth shut.” James shoots me a look.
“What?”
“Good evening, Mr. Harper. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” James straightens up so fast, I almost laugh.
He’s giving me that look—please don’t say anything, Willow.
“Table for two. No, wait—make it three. Finn will be joining us.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Harper raises an eyebrow at James. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
Okay, so this is the boss. And apparently, I’m about to meet his son. Great.
“I’m just checking the areas,” James says, but he sounds flustered.
“My area isn’t busy, James.” I flash him my brightest smile.
I can hear James muttering under his breath—keep your mouth shut, Willow. I just keep smiling at Mr. Harper and the other guy with him.
Mr. Harper nods. “Do as she says. If her area is free, I expect to be seated today, James.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry. Willow, would you kindly show Mr. Harper to table five?”
“Sure. Follow me, sir.” I put a little extra emphasis on the word, just because I can.
I hum as I lead them to their table, feeling way too pleased with myself—especially when Laura shoots me a glare from across the room.
I get them settled and take their drink orders. As I’m grabbing their drinks from the bar, I balance the tray and head back to the table.
That’s when someone slams right into me, and suddenly, drinks are everywhere.
“You asshole, watch where you’re going!” I snap, glaring at the guy.
He turns, eyes narrowing. “Who are you calling an asshole, bitch?” And then it hits me—this is Finn, the boss’s son. Of course.
“You, obviously, asshole.” I don’t back down.
He waves his hands, beer dripping down his shirt. “You’re the one who spilled drinks all over me!”
“Yeah, and you’re the one who ran into me.” I’m not about to take the blame for this.
“Fuck you.” He snarls and storms off.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
Now I get to spend the rest of my shift with beer all over my top. Perfect.
I grab more drinks and head back to the table.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Finn says, staring at me like I’m the problem.
“Son, watch your language,” Mr. Harper snaps, shooting him a look.
“Not when this bitch ran into me.”
I glare right back at Finn, my cheeks burning. “Excuse me, but you’re the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.”
He shakes his head. “God, you’ve got a mouth on you.”
I can’t help myself. “Yeah, and I can show you what I can do with this mouth, buddy.” The words are out before I can stop them. I slap my hand over my mouth, mortified.
A slow smirk spreads across Finn’s lips, and the way he’s looking at me—Oh God, what did I just do?
