Free Erased by Elle Christensen, K Webster Page B

he says, “She might be able to help dislodge the stick up your ass. You know what I mean?”
    I know I should be pissed and not let him talk to his boss that way, but Simon has a way about him. He’s not being disrespectful. He’s just trying to lighten the mood, and it usually works. I stifle a laugh then growl at him to get back to work.
    He lifts his hands in mock surrender and backs away a few paces. “Hey, it was just suggestion.”
    When Niki hands him a couple of frosty margaritas, he wiggles his eyebrows at me before heading off to his table.
    Niki . . . Shit. She wasn’t supposed to be working tonight.
    She lifts the lever on the tap, topping off a glass of beer for the customer waiting in front of her. As she pockets the tip he hands her, her head comes up and she looks me in the eye. I just nod. It’s not her fault that I’m such a dick. After she smiles back and shrugs, she takes a sweep of the bar to make sure there are not waiting customers then walks over to me.
    “I thought you were off tonight,” I say.
    “Pete’s girlfriend blew a tire on the freeway, so he needed to go take care of her. He asked to switch shifts.” She eyes me a little speculatively. “Let’s not let things get awkward, okay?”
    I can’t help but smile, grateful that she is so easy going.
    “Yeah. Thanks, Niki.”
    She smiles then stands on her toes, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. As she sashays back to the register on the far side of the bar, she gives her butt a little extra wiggle, throws me a wink, and laughs. After grinning at her antics, I turn back to survey the room—and notice her.
    J is standing across the bar, staring at me.
    Shit.
    I don’t want her to cry again, so I open my mouth to confess that nothing happened with Niki but stop short. There are no tears in her eyes. Instead, they are burning with rage.
    Double shit.
    “Cupcake—”
    She doesn’t let me get in another word. No, she just whirls away and stalks off. I sigh. This is going to be a long night.

    The bar closes down at two o’clock, which means Cupcake is off shift. I blow out a breath in relief. If I had to continue to watch her walking around in that scrap of fabric she calls a skirt, smiling at everybody but me, I was going to go batshit crazy. Not to mention the all-American frat boy she’d been flirting with earlier had stayed for a good two hours, watching her, and getting the occasional “chat” in with her. Something was off with that guy.
    Jealous?
    I scoff at the ridiculous notion.
    “Hey, J,” I call out to her and crook my finger at her when her eyes meet mine. Even from across the room, I can see the mutinous glare.
    She stands there for a moment, clearly trying to decide whether or not to do what I ask. Finally, she stomps over. “You summoned me?”
    Such a smartass.
    “Your shift is done. Go on up and get some sleep.”
    Her eyes widen at my words. “Go on up? What? Am I eight years old?” Her voice is rising, drawing the attention of the one or two stragglers still hanging out at the bar.
    I grab her shoulders, steering her toward the door and she glares at me over her shoulder. I raise a silent eyebrow, staring her down until she finally huffs out a breath and marches to the back.
    Once all of the employees have left, I lock up and retreat to my office to shut everything off and bolt the door. After taking the stairs two at a time, I’m almost in my room when her door swings open and bounces off the wall. I stop let out a deep sigh before turning around to face the fuming hellcat.
    “What’s the problem, kitten?” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against my doorjamb.
    “I am not a child, Derek. ” She marches across the hall and gets in my face. “And I’m getting sick and tired of you ordering me around like you’re my father!” she yells.
    She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s like this. Her eyes have fire in them, and her chest is heaving with her rapid breathing. Her words piss me off