Page 20 of Giovanni the Savage

After serving, I stand to my feet and give them a polite smile. Just as I’ve given them a point for proving me wrong and being responsible, one of them opens his mouth.

“What time do you get off work?”

I tame my resting bitch face and turn to face the speaker. I almost groan when I take in his features. He’s a balding fellow with white hair patches on his shiny scalp. He has a grin on his face I want to wipe off.

“I’m sorry, but I’m still on work hours.”

I turn him down nicely, the opposite of how I want to.

“I know.” His hand inches closer to me, and I step back. “That’s why I asked what time you get off work.”

“Not for another five hours.”

More like ten minutes. But there’s no way I’m telling him that. He looks like the kind of creep that will hang around until my shift ends.

“That’s a bummer,” he pouts, and I nearly gag. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Another fake, polite smile. “I started working here a few months ago.”

An open-ended answer.

“What’s your name?” he asks, even though I’m pretty sure he has seen the name tag on my shirt.

I instantly get a strange feeling about him. Then I realize I haven’t seen him around here either. It’s unusual with how long I’ve worked here and being familiar with most of the customers.

I decide to access the others at the table. One hasn’t stopped talking on the phone since I got here, and the other two are whispering to each other. The other one is wearing dark shades, so I can’t tell if his eyes are on me.

From what I've gathered, these men aren’t just diners. Meanwhile, the bald head is still waiting for an answer.

I would lie if my name tag didn’t betray me so easily.

“Luna,” I reply after clearing my throat.

I’m struggling to maintain a brave front, but I can’t when it’s obvious something is wrong, and the threat letter incident was only a week ago.

They can’t possibly do anything to me in broad daylight, can they?

“Luna,” he hums, and beads of sweat glide down my back. “How about you write your number on the napkin?”

He slides a napkin to me, and I can barely kill the gasp in my throat when I see a drop of blood on it.

“Never mind, nose bleeding.” He offers as a weak excuse and gives me a pen.

If I walk out of here without doing as I’m told, he just might give a bad review of me, and one thing about men like this is they’re always right.

“Luna!”

I turn to the sound of my name and see my boss waving me over.

I’ve never been happier she called me in my life.

A loud exhale leaves my lips, and I give him another smile.

“I’m sorry, duty calls.” I nod in her direction.

His face falls like he’s disappointed, but anger lurks underneath the fake disappointment in his eyes. I don’t miss how his fist curls on the table.

“Sure, we don’t want you getting fired, do we?”

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