Service Was Mediocre: Reviewing My Billionaire Lover

The lighting was low, amber-hued, designed t

orner booth, wearing a fedora that would have looked ridiculous on

ng a rendition of "Misty." It was technically profi

pered to Zoe. "Order a

crisp new bills from the emergency stash in her safe, a world away from the crump

the owner," she lied, her voice conf

dress. He shrugged. "It's open mic night anyw

there like a beast waiting to be tamed. She sat down o

her face, blinding her to the audience. T

inal Avery's pain, the rejection, the fear of the last twenty-four hours

her hands o

dard. She played an im

rain against a windowpane. Then, her left hand joined in, a

a storm. It was angry. It was desperate. It was

oom died. The clinki

roze halfway to his mouth. He squinted at the

er mouth. Tears pricked her eyes. She had kno

keys. The betrayal. The cold apar

fter, resolving melody. A

the pedal hold the note until

body moved. The silen

of hands started cla

ldo

pplause swelled, genuine and thundero

ht, professional bow. Her legs fel

stage, intending t

ath. He moved fast for a

ded. His eyes were inte

She didn't look down.

? The one who throws drinks?" He shook his head. "No. You

ng you read, Mr. Young,

heavy metal doors

e saw Avery. He saw Arnoldo standing inches

is side. The jealousy hit h