Page 1 of Talk Nerdy To Me
CHAPTER 1
BRITT
This is going well already. That’s sarcasm, in case you’re wondering. Using sarcasm proves to be simpler than detecting it.
“What are the odds that the manager, assistant manager, and backup assistant manager all get sick on the one weekend you’re in charge?” Raya asks as she starts getting the bar ready.
I had to call in the favor she owed me because the usual bartender, on top of everything else, decided to move to New York to pursue modeling.
Today.
This morning, to be exact.
“There’s not an exactitude on the odds, but I can show you the math I did on it earlier, if you’re being literal,” I state to Raya.
She blinks. “Of course you did the math.”
I’m not sure if she wants to see it or not, but it’ll have to wait until I finish. I’m struggling with all the things to do that I don’t fully understand how to do. Since everyone else is busy watching the band warm up, I’m busy setting up the VIP booths on my own.
It’s Under 21weekend, I remind myself. I don’t need to serve alcohol. I simply charge the same prices for the virgin alternatives, and don’t let the club burn to the ground—Dane’s parting words of guidance.
Virgin. I’m essentially running Virgin weekend. The irony is almost frustrating.
“I can wait tables, too.” Raya smiles as though she feels she’s successfully staved off my impending meltdown.
I look down, trying to figure out if we’ve done enough to recover from the abrupt, maddening issues.
In my head, this all worked out spectacularly. Harley and I even plotted out hypotheticals of every conflict that could arise and how I should handle it. Yet we didn’t plan for this. We couldn’t have seen these hurdles coming, due to the minute fraction of a chance something like this could happen.
As usual, the human element messed up the plans my head had.
“Hi,” a smooth, male voice says from behind me, interrupting my conversation with Raya—who has already abandoned me, apparently.
How long was I inside my own head?
A throat clearing from behind me reminds me someone is beckoning for my attention. Remembering it’s considered rude to simply ignore people, I turn to face whoever it is.
Before my eyes can even find my beckoner, I’m distracted by the burlesque dancers…who are stripping down to their lingerie to get ready for the stage.
They need their masks on! No one is supposed to get down to their lace without a mask. Dane specifically stated that rule to me five times, apparently forgetting I have an eidetic memory. It appears as if it’s them he should have been repeating himself for.
“Hi,” I say, though my attention is still focused on the maskless ladies, who are joining all the other rebels by skipping simple rules. “What do you want?”
He snickers as though something is funny, so I finally face him.
And I go a little…rigid.
It’s rare the words in my mouth don’t come out.
I’m just gawking and standing perfectly still, eyes wide as I take him in.
Base Masters. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised to see him, since he’s one of the few allowed to be in here before hours.
I’ve never had to see him this close before, and now I’m getting this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. And lower. Oh, yes—arousal. Now I recognize it.
Being aroused has never left my body unable to function, though. My mouth is still parted like it expects to expel more words, but…still…nothing. I’m just gaping in most every sense of the word.
What’s wrong with me?
