Page 16 of All the Ugly Things
The blond across the table egged him on with a nod but she stood back, put space between them, and barked, “Even think of touching me and none of you are leaving with your dicks still attached to your body.”
“Oohh. I’ll show you mine happily,” one said, hands dropping to his lap.
She glared at him, resting bitch face I was certain she learned in prison firmly in place. It didn’t look right on her. Too hard. Too forced.
What would she have been like as a smiling, happy teenager before life was stolen from her?
Damn it. I felt it then. That pull my dad had when he first saw her.
She’d lost too much.
She dropped the three remaining plates at the edge of the table so she didn’t have to get too close and swung her tray around, almost smacking one of them in the head. He ducked and cursed at her.
My hands balled into fists. I’d hit him first.
“Need anything else?”
“Yeah, our food without a bitch serving it,” another said.
He’d be next.
“Whatever.” She swung around and headed toward the counter. She pulled to an abrupt stop, jaw dropping, eyes widening when she saw me.
Her steps restarted quickly and she dropped the large brown tray on a stand filled with a stack of them.
“Good evening.”
Amazingly, her anger from the table before wiped clean in a moment as she skirted behind the counter. Fake smile plastered in place.
I hated it instantly, almost more than the hard look she’d just given those guys.
“What can I get for you?”
“Have any apple pie left? My dad says it’s the best.”
I’d considered how to handle this, whether to let her know who I was off the bat or not. After what I just saw, I figured she dealt with enough drama during a shift. She didn’t need more and I was going to be enough on my own.
“Your dad?” That same hardened look returned.
“David. I’m Hudson.”
With a sigh that made her shoulders fall, she asked, “Same decaf as Mr. Valentine, too?”
“No, thanks.”
Her eyes narrowed and darkened right before she thrummed her fingers on the countertop.
“There’s a sign on the door that allows me to refuse service anyone for any reason, you know that?”
“Does that mean there isn’t any pie left?” I smirked. Ladies loved it. Not that I cared what most liked.
She didn’t fall for it.
“Yeah, there’s pie, but I think I’m gonna decline your request. I don’t know why your dad keeps coming here and I sure as hell don’t know why you’re here, or care.”
If she wasn’t looking at me like she’d slip a steak knife from a bucket and slam it directly into my heart, I would have laughed.
“Dad told me about you.”
