Page 9 of Bred By the Mercenary
I’m left there, my mind reeling.
It has to be a coincidence. It’s too far-fetched, yet the news article is playing on my mind over and over.
Of course, I didn’t make out with a killer on the balcony and let him finger me. He’s just some weirdo who jumps off balconies, then runs into the shadows. Then a worse scenario hits me… what if the dead body is Daxton? Was he running from someone?
Breathing heavily, sweating worse, someone flags me down with their waving hand. I rush over to serve them, pushing aside all those doubts curling in the pit of my stomach.
As we shuffle into Roger’s office, the air’s thick with tension. The room, with its dark wood and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, feels more like a courtroom than a manager’s office tonight. About a dozen of us are crammed in there, each wearing the same expression of dread.
Roger stands behind his desk in his low-hanging brown pants, his belly pushing against his button-up shirt, staring at us with hesitation. That’s not the Roger I know, who’s always direct and confident.
Nerves skate up the back of my legs at the idea that something bad’s about to happen.
“This has been a difficult decision for me,” he starts, and my stomach drops. Is this it? Are we all getting fired or facing pay cuts? I glance at Jessi beside me, her face mirroring my dread.
“For months now, the bar has been hemorrhaging profit, and I can’t sustain it.”
My mind races. If he fires us, what then? I have no family to fall back on, and as for friends… well, Jessi’s in the same boat.
“So, I’ve sold the business,” Roger finally announces. The room falls deadly silent. It’s like everyone’s holding their breath, bracing for the next blow.
“Effective immediately,” he adds.
“So, who’s the new boss?” one of the dancers pipes up from the front. “Is he going to fire us all?”
Roger shakes his head, then shrugs, his white beard giving a slight wobble. His uncertainty worries me. He’s been a staple in this bar since he took it over from his dad. I’d heard rumors of him wanting to retire, but this… it’s sudden. There’s a part of me that’s going to miss Roger. He’s always been fair, ensuring I kept my job and not being a jerk about things. But what about the new owner?
“You’ll hear more tomorrow, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. He seems like a fair man,” Roger assures us.
Jessi and I exchange wary glares. Fair in what sense? That he offered Roger a great price for the bar?
As we file out of the office, the chatter rises. Jessi is right beside me, her face pale.
“Hell, what if he gets rid of us? We need a plan, something to impress the guy. Remember how we took that bookkeeping course?” she says.
“The course we both failed?” I remind her. Accounting is not something I enjoy in the slightest.
She rolls her eyes. “Ever heard of being creative? He’s not going to make us actual bookkeepers, but showing we have more skills might help us stay on.”
I’m not entirely convinced, but desperation can make you do crazy things.
“We’ll do what we need to,” I agree. “We always have, and it’s worked out.”
She grins, gives me a quick hug, then darts off to the locker room. I’m about to follow when a deep, smooth voice stops me in the corridor of the main office area. The voice is familiar… too familiar.
My heart skips a beat as I slowly backtrack to the door that leads into the bar from the staff section. I peek through the ajar door back into the bar.
It feels like someone’s kicked me in the gut.
There he stands—fucking Daxton.
As vivid and real as the night on the balcony, his presence fills the room even from this distance. He’s chatting with Roger, looking every bit the man who belongs in a world of business dealings. At least now I know he’s not the dead guy at the mansion.
The pair shake hands, and a jolt of shock still ripples through me with the reality that Daxton has just bought The Cactus Canyon Bar.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He used some lame-ass excuse to dump me at the masquerade bar, and now, he’s going to be my new boss. My stomach twists into knots.
Just wonderful. Thanks universe.