War (Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 5)(2)

By: Kaye Blue



Tiffany nodded her agreement. As much as she wanted to convince me to take her shift, even she couldn’t deny that weddings could be hard on the staff.

You’d think everyone would be so busy congratulating the happy couple, they’d be too distracted to harass the catering crew and waitstaff, but you’d be dead wrong. I’ve never gotten more dirty looks, rude guests, and unwelcome ass pinches than at a wedding.

From what Tiffany had told me, this was an especially high-profile event, which meant high-profile assholes who were even worse.

Tiffany put a freckled hand on her small hip and turned to face me, blocking my view of the TV. Then she lowered her gaze to mine, her eyes serious, brimming as though she had the most important thing to tell me.

“What, Tiff?” I asked.

“We’re getting double,” she said.

I said nothing, but Tiffany knew me well enough to press on. She lowered her head and lasered her eyes on mine, narrowing them at me, giving me a get-real expression. Her chin dropped farther, and she tilted her head. “Can’t you see the dream fund getting a nice boost?” she asked.

I sighed, frowned at her before I answered. “I can see it. But what I can’t see is how the dream fund has anything to do with me taking your shift,” I said.

She smirked. “Double, Milan.”

Then Tiffany paused, waiting expectantly. I was tired, exhausted, really, but she knew my weaknesses. We’d been friends for over twenty years, from elementary school on. She knew everything about me, just like I did her, and she knew money was my weakness. More specifically, she knew I’d never miss an opportunity to make a few extra bucks to stash away.

I called it the dream fund, and I worked hard to fill it. I didn’t mind that I had no idea what the dream was yet. That didn’t matter, because I knew with every fiber of my being that one day I would, and when that day came, I’d be able to go after that dream with everything I had.

Until then, I’d work and save, and wait until I figured out what direction I was headed in.

I glanced at Tiffany again, saw that her expression hadn’t changed. It hadn’t needed to.

Dammit, she had me.

I flicked off the TV and tossed the remote control aside, a sign of defeat, and then scowled at Tiffany when she smiled, not that doing so would change anything.

I stood and looked up at Tiffany, who was far taller than me.

“Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t smirk like you knew I’d do it all along. At least give me that,” I said.

Tiffany smoothed her features and then wiped her hand across her face. “Okay. No smirk,” she said.

“Such a smart-ass,” I replied as I began to move my weary bones toward my bedroom.

As I walked, my feet groaned in protest.

Yesterday had been a long day, with two weddings and two birthday parties, the last of which had gone late into the night.

I showered quickly and dressed in one of the three clean catering uniforms I always kept on hand just in case a job came up. When I went back into the living room, Tiffany was there, also having recently dressed. But where I was wearing starched black pants and a stiff white shirt, she was dressed in a soft, flowing dress that hit midthigh, the pink contrasting nicely with her hair, and the tight cut showing off her flat stomach and full, perky breasts.

She twirled. “How do I look?”

“Ha-ha,” I said, playfully smacking her arm. “Don’t rub it in, Tiff. But you look gorgeous as always, not that you needed me to tell you that.”

Tiffany shrugged. “Of course I didn’t need you to, but it’s nice to hear all the same. You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, staring me up and down.

I waved her off. “I already said I’d go. No need to lie to me to try to butter me up,” I replied.

“No lie, Milan. You rock that better than anyone else, including me. All covered up so they can’t see the goodies, but the body is still banging,” she said as she bumped her hip into my much fuller one.

“Yeah, well just remember banging bodies is not on the agenda when you design the uniforms for the business, whatever it might end up being,” I said.

Tiffany smiled. “They’re going to be awesome. People are going to hire us just to see the uniforms.” She paused and looked at me. “And, you know, for the business stuff,” she said.

I laughed out loud, and Tiffany joined in. Fashion first, she always said, and she lived it too, little matters like function rarely of note. “You know the boss has to look better than everyone else?” I said.

“She will. And if you’d let me dress you now, I could have you on point,” she said.

I shook my head. “Nope. Not opening that topic. Because we’ve covered this ground before, and I’m sure you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.”

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