Fighting Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1 Read Online Free

job.
     
    “Yes please, can I help you?”
    I jumped a half foot in the air, and when I came down saw a Mediterranean looking guy who was pretty well put together. He wasn’t too bulky like boys get when they hit their thirties or whatever. He was in that slim but athletic phase, like only those boys from the med can pull off, and he didn’t mind showing off his tone by wearing slinky clothes – a white T with an unknown foreign brand on it, and a pair of skinny jeans. My guess, is he was twenty five or twenty-six. He had dark eyes and thick dark hair which had been buzzed at the back and sides. He looked pretty good, but something in his dark eyes was unsettling.
    These days all the guys had a beard. This guy was no different. His short beard went all the way back up the sides of his head. He reminded me of a Liverpool footballer, but I couldn’t remember the name.
    “You want to book a table?”
    “Oh, no, no thank you.”
    The boy nodded and smiled, then he gently clapped his hands.
    “Then why a pretty girl like you comes in here? Are you a student? I know, I bet you want a drink? What would you like?”
    I smiled back at him. He was friendly enough, maybe a bit full of himself. I was remembering those few brief holiday romances, the near misses, and the ones I was glad never actually happened. This guy was reminding me of a few of those.
    “I’m fine, really. You’re right. I am a student. I am just looking for a job to supplement my income, and I wondered if you had any vacancies...”
    The boy stopped for a minute, processing what I had. Then he looked at me and he grinned. “You want to work here? At Yemek’s?”
    “If there’s a vacancy, yes, maybe…”
    “Hey. That’s fantastic. You take a seat over there. I will bring you a coffee and we can talk.”
    “Great. So is there a vacancy?”
    “Sit, please. Sit. Then we talk.”
    He made a friendly gesture that I should pick a seat near the bar. This was feeling a little weird already, but hey, when at Yemek’s… I picked a chair with a view of the outside world just to remind me that I hadn’t slipped into another dimension.
    The guy emerged from the kitchen after two minutes of me feeling awkward. He was carrying a tray with a silver kind of teapot and a couple of small little glass cups. He gave me the full beam smile all the way and laid the tray down in front of me like it was the best thing I would ever see. I made a good fist of smiling back.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “Turkish coffee.”
    “So good, you can chew it,” he smiled. Then I remembered the one time I’d tried Turkish coffee. Chewy coffee dregs never made it to the top of my list of regional delicacies. He poured a small cup for me and himself and I drank a sip of the vile concoction, and nodded without grimacing.
    “You like?”
    I nodded.
    “Okay. You want work. What can you do?”
    I went back to the same patter I had used all morning. “I’m versatile. The main thing is that I am personable, and hard working. I learn quickly and I fit in really well with teams. I always give 100 per cent. I have experience in retail, and retail management, and I’m good with customers. I can give you my CV, if you’re interested.”
    He nodded and looked at me over his coffee. He was thinking. There was a glint in his eyes. His look soon became a solid stare. I don’t like staring and I don’t like silences either.
    “What do you think?” I said.
    “I think I’d like you to work here with me. I would be your boss. You would serve tables. You would clean the tables. You take the orders to and from the kitchen.”
    “Like a waitress.”
    “Yes, a waitress,” he repeated.
    “How much would you pay?”
    “For you? Maybe eight pounds an hour.”
    “Really?” That was very good compared to some of the lines I’d heard across town. I tried to hide my surprise. Now I wasn’t so sure this job was a definite No.
    “And you keep tips.”
    “That’s good. It all adds