*Best Friends To Lovers*
BOOK ONE.
THE LARSSON LEGACY SERIES.
SIENNA
Beau Larsson is the love of my life.
Best friends, our relationship is the kind where you completely lose yourself, which is something I can't afford.
I gave him everything and...
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It's packed out at work tonight. A sea of people crowding the front of the bar, desperately seeking a drink. I shove the five-pound tip into the jar and smile my thanks to the group of girls celebrating a hen-do for their drunken generosity.
"Barrel needs changing, hon," Ava says, slapping my back to let me know it's my turn.
"Got it," I say, rolling my eyes with her when a drunk guy rudely shouts for her attention, slipping out of the bar and winding my way through the crowds of people to reach the staff door.
Punching in the security code, I let the door shut behind me and take a few steadying breaths before heading towards the back door.
"Sienna."
A shock of body tremors comes over me at hearing my mother's voice, yanking my phone from my back pocket and lifting it up to flash the torch over her face. She squints, batting my arms down at the bright light.
"You trying to fucking blind me?" she screeches.
I lower the phone but aim it so I can still see her. "What do you want?"
The skimpy leather skirt and lace camisole top she has on tell me all I have to know, yet I still have to ask because it will always be traumatising to me.
"A client is in there drinking. I'm waiting for him, but I need to get away. Can you call me a taxi?" she asks, moving around nervously.
Paulina Hart.
Lincolnshire's finest prostitute.
"You're playing dangerously. I don't want anything to do with your work and bringing a guy to drink here is crossing a line," I say.
She huffs. "Oh, please, it's a harmless drink, Sienna, now get me home."
"I'm not your keeper," I grumble, pulling a taxi firm up on my phone anyway. If I don't, she'll probably end up storming in there and demand to use a phone. "Here. You talk."
She blows out a breath of frustration, giving me evil little glares as she speaks to the operator. "Yeah, thanks," she hangs up.
I take my phone back, glancing at my screen when it buzzes before I almost drop it when she practically launches the thing at me. The silence comes then. Awkward and painfully sad.
"As if you still have that pathetic boy of a best friend chasing after you. By now you would think he knows you are good for nothing," she says, the heel of her shoes scraping on the pavement.
I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.
It's always best to ignore her in these kinds of situations, so I do just that, cutting this little reunion short by heading to the cellar door.
"Two for the price of one?" A slurring voice stops me in my tracks.
I turn at Paulina's quiet curse, coming face to face with a bald guy whose stomach is overhanging his trousers. An ashy cigarette hanging out of the corner of his dry mouth.
