Page 1 of Dirty Money
Collateral Damage - Dirty Money Part 1
The one thing Aulora Greene is terrified of is wealthy men. Her rich father abandoned her as a child and she never recovered from the trauma. Every time a business man in a two thousand dollar suit looks her way, she panics.
So how's she going to react when billionaire Weston Calloway, the most powerful business man in the city, starts pursuing her relentlessly. He sees her, he wants her, and he always gets what she wants.
Appetizer orders in, Aullie took another trayful of waters back to table fourteen, where she was actually grateful to see the men all invested in the game.
“Here are these for you guys, just in case,” she said cheerfully as she arranged the glasses in front of the four men, snatching away the Brit’s empty shot glass. The TV was behind her and none of them looked away, except for Golden Eyes. His smoldering stare made her feel warm, almost feverish.
“Thank you,” he politely said. When no one else budged, he spoke a bit louder to his friends. “Thank the lady.”
The three of them seemed to reanimate from their dumbstruck sports faces, and a chorus of quiet, habitual thanks were heard round the table.
“So, are we eating? Or…”
Before she could finish, Aullie was once again cut off by Visor Boy. “Fuck yeah, let’s get some wings! Like, a butt-ton of wings!”
“Dylan, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m sorry about him, Miss Aullie,” the way Golden Eyes said her name with a formal title tickled her a little. She wasn’t exactly used to manners in the dive that she worked in. “I’m Weston, by the way.” Not only was it kind of a sexy name, but his accent really gave some body to the ‘W’, making it sound almost regal.
“Nice to meet you, Weston,” Aullie could practically feel her nervous knees knocking together. Get a grip, Aulls, she silently told herself to pull herself together. “So. Wings. What flavor? What sauces for dipping? How many? What are we doing?”
There was some grumbling between the men. Clearly, no one was prepared, and as much as Aullie enjoyed being in Weston’s presence, she did have other things to do. She hoped her anxious jiggling and flicking eyes weren’t too noticeable, but finally the conclusion was come to that they would have one pound of medium and one pound of sweet and spicy Thai with ranch and bleu cheese. She jotted a note on the pad in her order book, promised them it would be right out, and turned to leave.
Before she could take even two steps away, Dylan raucously called, “Oh yeah, and some shots! Make it a round of Jame-o!”
Though irritated, Aullie turned, smiled and scribbled on her pad to acknowledge that she’d heard. Weston glared at his friend, shaking his head and smiling as he brought the glass of thick, dark beer to his lips. Aullie wondered briefly how two such different men had become friends.
Orders were taken, drinks and food were run to tables, and eventually the bar settled back into a lull. The waitresses hung out in hidden corners, gossiping, giggling and complaining out of view of their tables. Aullie’s feet had begun to ache and she was startled to see that it was already half-time.
With eleven and twelve managed, Aullie sauntered over to table fourteen. Though Weston was definitely the highlight of her night, Dylan had wasted no time getting half-cocked on shots and it turned out that he was even more obnoxious when he was intoxicated.
She approached with caution, asking, “Everything alright over here?”
The question was met with an enthusiastic, “Woo!” right into her face. Dylan’s breath stank of hot sauce and whiskey.
“So, I’ll take that as a yes?” She was trying for coy, hoping her exhaustion and annoyance weren’t showing yet.
“We’re great,” the lumberjack said. “I’m sorry about him, I don’t know why he’s acting like such a dick.” With the last word, he turned angry eyes on Dylan and kicked him under the table.
“Really, it’s fine. He’s super mellow compared to what usually goes on here. You guys are first timers, huh?”
She’d directed the question at the group, hoping Weston would answer for them, but unfortunately, it was Dylan who said, “Nah, we’ve been in a few times before but didn’t even realize this was, like, the place to watch the game. You guy’s got a great set up here.”
“Oh, you mean all these?” Aullie held her hands out and gestured at their TV collection. It really was ridiculous, there were more TV’s in the bar than there were tables. On days when there were multiple games, it actually got super disorienting with all those colorful bodies moving out of sync.
“Yeah. Those.” There was a libidinous tone to Dylan’s reply, and his muddy brown eyes were squarely on her chest.
Aullie narrowed her eyes. “Too bad those aren’t for public viewing,” she spat. Before he could annoy her any further, Aullie stalked away. Some girls thrived under that kind of attention, and Aullie really didn’t understand. It just felt so… smarmy.
The second half of the game sounded like an exciting one, lots of table pounding and drawn out ohhhhh’s in the dining room. However, Eric had decided to cut the floor so that everyone could get all of their side work done by the time that their tables finished so then everyone could clear out and stop wasting his labor hours on a bunch of table-campers.
Aullie rushed around, almost frantically, assigning and checking everyone else’s little chores for the night and scribbling her messy signature on checkout forms. Fully aware of how much she had been neglecting her tables, she regretfully marched down the row of booths, dropping off checks and hiding her worn-out soul behind a peppy little mask.
Eleven and twelve were both ready to tab out, thank God, and she approached fourteen to find Weston gone. The other three men made signing motions in the air and Lumberjack said, “All on one check.”
Aullie wondered idly where he’d gone, but was frankly too tired to care anymore. After a long day of classes, studio time, and then a work shift, she was completely worn out. Plus, like she’d told Brittany, it wasn’t like anything would ever happen between them anyway, so it wasn’t like his being there was going to change anything.
Aullie passed out tabs, collected cards, ran cards, returned tabs and, bid all her happy patrons a good night, all without another sighting of Weston.
