“Not at all,” he smiled at me sweetly, then relaxed back in his seat.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I want to be. Unlike Yannick, I do as I please.”
“You’re one of his henchmen, you do as he says,” I reminded.
“If I didn’t want to, he wouldn’t force me to. That’s the thing about having a choice, and where you and him differ hugely. He has integrity. You, dear Irina, have no idea what the fuck that word means.” With his face a mask of disgust, Tayte pushed his bottle of beer further away and stood, straightening his suit jacket. “Let him go.”
Watching Tayte leave the room, the cut of his expensive suit barely moving, I gulped down the glass of wine and tried to make head or tail of the whole bizarre encounter. Snorting, I pushed from the table. Tayte was up to something, the stupid man had just shown his hand and didn’t even know he’d done it. Hanging around and making himself seen, bah, I was no fool. It wasn’t me who Yannick needed to worry about, his friend was going to be the one to stick the knife in and try to storm the tower Yannick had built. I was putting all my money on Tayte being the man to finally hurt Yannick where it mattered. His heart.
Jolie
I could feel Yannick Ischmov’s eyes trailing me all night, not entirely uncomfortable and certainly lifting my mood from the floor where it had crashed earlier. CeeCee had also noted his interest, the witch missed nothing. I’d had enough strife for one day, held no desire to quarrel with her, but after one comment too many, I finally snapped.
“CeeCee, fucking shut up, will you?”
Grinning, she barged me into the wall in the back corridor, the empty tray she held, digging into my stomach. Squaring my shoulders, I gave her ten seconds to back away before I retaliated.
“You’re taking my tips.”
“From who?”
“Mr Ischmov tips well when he’s on the main floor. I can’t get near his table because of you.”
Searching around in my pocket, I pulled out two twenty-pound notes that definitely had not come from Yannick’s table and thrust them at her. “If it gets you off my bloody back, take the tips.”
Batting my hand away, she growled into my ear. “It’s not just about the tips.”
“CeeCee!” Bill stood a few feet away, arms folded across his chest, a furious look on his face. “Move.” She sneered at me before taking a step back. “I don’t tolerate intimidation of this manner in the bar. Mr Ischmov specifically asked for Miss Summers. This is his place, it’s his choice who waits on him, VIP or not.”
“He’s never had a problem with me before, not until she walked in here with her nose in the goddamn air. She’s pinching all my regular tippers, Bill,” CeeCee whined.
“That’s not what I see.”
“Then you need to open your fucking eyes.”
I sucked in a breath. This was not ending well for her. Even I knew you didn’t talk to the person who paid your wages the way she just had. “Your final pay and bonus are on the break room table. We will not be providing references for this period of employment.” Bill stepped forward and eased the tray from CeeCee’s fingers. “Don’t make me call security.”
“I’m fired?”
“As of right now. Three strikes and you’re out, need I remind you this is the third? I do not tolerate staff intimidation of any kind. Time to go. Good luck in your next job. I’m sorry Caulder’s didn’t work out for you.”
Hell, he was being far more gracious than I would have been.
“You fucking bitch!” CeeCee turned, spitting at me. “Best watch your back, I ain’t done with you.”
“I think you are,” Bill admonished. “You’re not to set foot in any of Mr Ischmov’s establishments again. There are consequences for you should you choose to ignore the advice. Need I remind you who the man is?”
CeeCee wound her neck in and gulped around the lump in her throat. “Fine. Your loss, Bill.” She stormed past him, shoulder barging him on the way. Bill just smirked, then nodded his head toward the bar.
“Back to work, Jolie. Perhaps you could smile a little more now?”
“Sorry.” I blushed. “Not work, I swear. Just a rough day.”
“Listen, I don’t put up with that kind of shit in the bar from anyone.” He pointed to where CeeCee had hot-footed it. “Sorry about that.”
“Thank you.”
With nothing left to say, I headed back out to the front, my mood really not as buoyant as it should have been. I plastered on the fake smile I’d perfected and lifted my shoulders hoping no one else cared to mention I was not my usual sunny self.
Carol pushed a tray across the bar as I approached. “For Mr Ischmov.” She nodded her head toward the corner where he sat in the shadows.
“They’re not drinking tonight?”
“Nope. He doesn’t always drink when he comes in. Actually, rarely at all.”
“Huh.” Every time I’d worked, he’d been drinking.
“I know, right?” She smirked. “They’re waiting.”
Expertly lifting the black tray, careful not to spill anything from the highball glasses, I made my way through the throng of customers crowding the floor to the far corner.
“Evening, sirs.”
“It’s Yannick, please.” He pointed a thumb at his friend. “And you know Sandir.”
Sandir flashed a dazzling smile, and I swiftly returned the sentiment. “Quiet one tonight?” My curiosity got the better of me, I couldn’t help but ask.
“Need a clear head, I’m afraid. Driving later, too.” Which explained the lack of alcohol. “Where do you stay, Jolie?”
“Um…” I glanced around the bar, wary about answering such a personal
