Fatal Instincts (Book 1, the Fatal Trilogy Series)

Chapter 6.

I decided I must have finally gotten my point across to Kross and his goons when they were all MIA for the rest of the week.

Say what I will about Kettle's Bell (It's still a stupid name) about how small and shitty it is, but it has a pretty popping night life. Probably because all the people in this town are psychotic and this is the only place that serves alcohol, but still. The bar is always full, even on weeknights.

The girls seem a bit bummed out by the lack of big tipping bikers, but I like it. Things are easier. The girls don't feel the need to talk to me and the men are only here to get hammered, try out pickup lines, and watch girls dance. I easily blend right into the background without an egomaniac breathing down my neck and drawing unwanted attention to me.

Things are going great until my ninth straight night working when Jeb stops me at the door with both good and bad news.

"You're a hit. Knew you would be." I wait to see if he's actually going to pat himself on the back, sadly he doesn't, but I picture it in my mind nonetheless. "You're the most requested girl, even doing those little PG dances you do." I nod, thinking my dances are anything but PG, they aren't R-rated like Candy Crush and BiBi, but they aren't much further behind Becca and Ren either. "Because of that, I want to keep you fresh for our busiest nights, so I'm gonna need you to take off Mondays and Thursdays."

The last words I wanted to hear out of Jeb's pinched little mouth.

"But I-."

He shakes his head. "No, I know you want to work-."

"Come on, Jeb, please?" I pout my lips and flutter my eyelashes, reaching out to squeeze his forearm. He giggles, like a girl, but then steps back, trying to keep his composure.

"Look, darlin', I'd keep you on every night, like I told you, you're good for business, but I got people to answer to too. You working every night makes it look like I'm overworking you. But I can make you a deal."

"I'm listening." No longer pretending to flirt with him, all business now. Just to be mean, I pull together the two sides of my tied up flannel shirt, blocking his uninterrupted view of my bra and cleavage.

"I want you to do music 'round here." He says, his eyes forced to my face with no goodies to ogle. "I'll even pay you an extra buck an hour for you to revamp us."

I hadn't seen that coming at all, and I'm genuinely happy about it. "Really?" For once my smile isn't fake.

"Yea, all the customers and the girls too have been telling me how much they like it when you get ahold of the music box. I'm man enough to admit our playlists are dated."

"And sleazy." I add.

"This is a titty bar." He points to the stages and I laugh.

"I know, but that doesn't mean you have to play nothing but porn music, Jeb. Other stuff can be just as sexy."

Jeb blushes at my attention and grins at the floor. "Yea, alright, you're the expert on sexy, so I'll let you roll with it."

"Thank you." I almost hug him, but that's too friendly. I don't go for friendly these days. I'm more like a porcupine than a kitten.

"See you tomorrow night then, honey."

He turns to leave me at the door, but I call after him. "Wait, I can't work tonight? I'm already here."

"Sorry, got bosses to keep happy."

"And who exactly is your boss, Jeb?" I ask, glaring at him.