Before I could force my body to move, his eyes traveled over the woman’s head and landed right on me, widening almost imperceptibly. I could have looked down and seen a sniper’s dot on my chest, and it wouldn’t have caused my heart to stop as much as his stare did.
I should’ve walked away right then. I didn’t owe him anything. I knew that, but some neighborly part of me wanted to repair the rift between us and at least say hello.
With each step I took in his direction, his face seemed to close down more and more, until it finally settled into that flat look I was accustomed to. His companion, sensing his attention was no longer hers, looked over her shoulder at me. Her brows rose, and her eyes darted back and forth between us.
In perfect Madison fashion, I gave her an awkward wave, and then looked back into Garrett’s unfriendly, yet still stupidly attractive, face. “Hey, Garrett. How are you?”
“Fine.”
He took a swig of his beer, his tone sharp enough to slice a chunk out of me if I stepped too close, and I couldn’t help but feel irritated. He was never going to see me as anything more than a gold digger. It was time for me to get over it and stop wasting my time. I wasn’t like that, so his opinion didn’t matter.
No matter what, I refused to let him think his attitude affected me. Pasting on my biggest waitress smile, I said, “That’s great to hear. I’ve got tables I need to check on so I’m—”
“I thought you did something else for work.”
“Um…” I froze, wondering where he was going with that. Both his tone and the curl of his lip told me he thought I was being sketchy. Was he trying to imply I didn’t actually work here? For his intellect’s sake, I sincerely hoped not. I was wearing an apron, for fuck’s sake.
“I do.”
He wanted to ask another question. I could see it in the way he tapped his fingers along his half-empty bottle, the way creases appeared across his forehead and his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. In the end, his desire to ask won out against his desire to ignore my existence.
“Then why are you working here?”
The motherfucker really thought I was lying about something. Was he that dense, or just convinced of his own superiority that he couldn’t fathom the idea he’d been wrong about me? Either way, I blamed my pent-up anger from the day’s worth of shit interactions that fed the fire on what I did next.
Gracing him with the most insincere expression I could muster, I stepped into his personal space, just shy of straddling his knee. The side of my pinkie brushed the top of his hand as my fingers wrapped around his beer.
I pulled it from his grasp, knocking my head back and downing the half-full bottle in one go. Bringing my face a few inches from his, I ran my tongue across my bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement.
“Because I’ve yet to find a sugar daddy with a large enough…” I dropped the empty bottle directly in his lap, letting my eyes linger on it, “pocket.”
The look on Garrett’s face was worth every crushing wave of anxiety I was inevitably going to suffer from later, likely when I tried to sleep. I stepped back, keeping my eyes on his surprised ones, and letting my face drop into my best bitch face. “Have a good night, Garrett.”
I made my way back to the kitchen, ignoring Nate’s attempts at grabbing my attention. What the hell had I been thinking? I had no idea if anyone other than Nate and Garrett’s companion had seen that, but I could only hope the answer was no.
I’d like to say I held my head high and worked around my asshole neighbor, but I didn’t. I avoided the bar like the plague for the next hour or so, going so far as to bribe another coworker to deliver my tables’ alcoholic drinks.
It wasn’t until Nate finally found me and told me Garrett had left that I stopped hiding like a little bitch. I may have no issue showing fangs when threatened, but you bet your ass I’m going to tuck tail and run as soon as it’s safe.