CHAPTER 03
"Good evening, my name is Isabella and I will be serving you this evening," I said, politely, handing round the drinks menus to the group of smart-casual dressed men before me. Rosalie had warned me it was a stag party and had said to be as cool and professional as possible, because they tended to get rowdy as the night went on. I was grateful for her advice and kept my voice as calm as possible. The men each took their menus, one of them lingering a hand on my wrist for a little longer than was necessary.
"No Jessica tonight?" asked the man holding my wrist. I looked up with a forced smile.
"No, sir, she is on her night off tonight," I replied.
"That's a shame," he drawled. I withdrew my wrist carefully from his hand.
"Can I take your orders?" I asked. The men gave me their orders and I moved away from the table, relieved to have a minute away. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night. Rosalie was sitting at the bar when I came back for the table's fourth order and she rolled her eyes.
"He's a jerk," she murmured in my ear.
"Who?" I asked.
"The blonde one. His name is Michael Newton. Really fancies his chances with most of the waitresses. He's the only person to have ever got Jess in trouble. Made her believe he loved her and she took him up to her room. He chased her for weeks and when she finally gave in to him, he reported her to Jazz. She still thinks he loves her, poor naive girl."
"I better get back," I said, flinching as I heard one of the men shout my name across the club, loud enough to hear over the music. I collected their beer and whiskey chasers onto my tray and walked back over, plastering a smile on my face. As I handed out the drinks, a hand reached out and rubbed my backside provocatively. I shot up; nearly dropping the drink I was passing across the table. There was a raucous laugh across the table.
"You scared her, Mike," said one of the men, punching the arm of the blonde man who was laughing up at me.
"Did I scare you, darling?" he drawled. I straightened up.
"No, sir, of course not," I said, steadily. He leaned back in the booth, spreading his arms out and leered up at me. "Will there be anything else?"
"Yeah, how about you come and sit on my knee?" he said.
"Anything else to drink, sir?" I asked, through gritted teeth, trying to keep my cool.
"No, we're all set thanks," said one of the other men, glancing across at Michael. "Mike, leave her alone."
"Oh, Eric, don't be such a killjoy!" said Mike. "She doesn't mind. Do you, sweet cheeks?"
I didn't reply, just smiled at the table and went across to serve my other table. When I glanced back at the stag party Mike was watching me over his glass, his eyes narrowed. The others were laughing and I heard them calling advice to Eric, whose stag party it was, for his wedding night.
"Isabella, can you serve the manager's table. Just for an hour, while Mel takes her break," asked Alice, suddenly appearing at my elbow.
"Of course, Alice," I said, relieved that I would be away from the stag party a bit longer. I headed over to the table and saw that there was only one person occupying it. He barely looked up as I introduced myself and asked what I could get him.
"Jack Daniels, on the rocks" he replied, quietly. After the noise from the stag party, his quiet voice was like balm to my ears. I hurried with his order, hearing Mike shouting my name again. I placed the whiskey on the table.
"Will there be anything else, sir?" I asked. The man didn't reply, just shook his head and so I headed back to the stag party, reluctantly.
"Same again all round, Isabella," said Mike. "And don't take so long about it this time."
I was a little surprised by the aggression in his tone, but forced myself to ignore it. After all he wasn't the first aggressive drunk I had dealt with. My eyes found the little apple charm on my bracelet and I chewed my lip nervously as I waited for the bar staff to complete my order. When I returned to the table, Mike kept his hands to himself and I sighed with relief, before heading to my other tables to check on them and then back to the manager's table, where my quiet customer was sitting, his head bowed so that all I could see was a tangle of just out of bed style bronze hair.
"Excuse me, sir, could I get you another drink?" I enquired.
"Isabella! Get that sexy little butt back over here!" bellowed Mike's voice across the room, making me wince.
"Another Jack Daniels," said the man, without lifting his head, seemingly oblivious to the comment from my other table. I headed back to the bar, trying to ignore Mike's voice, still bellowing for me.
"Come on, Isabella! You said you would be serving me for the night! I need some service!"
Once I had placed the drink on the lone table, I headed back to the stag party reluctantly.
"I am sorry for your wait, sir," I forced myself to say. "What can I get for you?"
"We'll have a round of whiskies," slurred Mike. "Double for the stag!"
"Double! Double!" chanted the rest of the group, banging their empty glasses on the table, before I rounded them up to take back to the bar with me. I returned with their order quickly; the bar staff were taking pity on me and rushing the stag party's orders through.
"Hey!" said Mike, after he downed his whiskey in one go. "You forgot something!"
"I'm sorry, sir?"
Mike suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me down towards him. My fingers touched the apple on my charm bracelet, but then he released me.
"Get us another beer as well, darling," said Mike. I headed back to the bar, shaken and the barmaid gave me a sympathetic smile.
"Only another hour, Bella," she said.
"Thanks," I grimaced. When I got back to the table, Mike was on his feet, apparently heading for the men's room, but before I had a chance to put his drink down, he barged into me, so the beer fell off the tray and went straight down his top and jeans.
"You stupid bitch!" he snarled, suddenly going from aggressive to just sheer nasty. I flinched and my hand reflexively covered my stomach.
"I'm very sorry," I managed to get out before he grabbed my arm.
"You will be!" he started to say, but then Emmett appeared.
"I'll deal with this, sir," he said. "If you would like to go through to the men's room, the attendant there will sort you out. I will have a new waitress sent to your table and a bottle of champagne on the house. Isabella, could you report to Mr Hale's office immediately."
Mike headed off, muttering to himself and I followed Emmett shakily through the bar to the offices at the back. There were tears standing out on my eyelashes, as he told me abruptly to take a seat outside the office and wait for Mr Hale. He then turned on his heel and disappeared, only to reappear several minutes later, with Mr Hale. They went into the office, without so much as glancing at me and I felt the tears running down my cheeks.
"Miss Swann," called Mr Hale's cold voice. I shivered and wiped my eyes on the back of my hand and then went through to the office. I stood before his desk, my head bowed. Mr Hale cleared his throat. "I have had a complaint about your behaviour tonight from two clients."
"T... two, sir?" I stammered. I knew Mike would have complained, but who else?
"Yes. You were covering the manager's table for an hour as well?"
"He complained?" I gasped, wondering what on earth his complaint could have been.
"It is not good for a waitress to be slovenly in serving one table so that they are forced to shout their orders across the club to her. You did not serve the stag table as well as you should have and then you threw a drink over the best man..."
"I did not!" I cried, feeling a twinge of anger at the injustice of the complaints. Mr Hale's eyes swept over me and I noticed that they were black.
"You are saying that our clients have lied?" he said, coldly.
"Y... yes," I stammered, with less conviction.
"Mr Newton is a valued customer, Isabella. He is many things, but he is not a liar."
Mr Hale steepled his fingers and looked across at me steadily.
"I... I'll go and apologise... to Mr Newton and Mr..."
"You will not be back in the bar tonight and possibly not tomorrow either by the time Emmett is done with you," replied Mr Hale without any emotion. I blanched and felt the tears streaming down my face again.
"P... please, M...Mr Hale..." I managed to stammer out between sobs.
"Do you like working here?" he asked, suddenly. I nodded, unable to speak. "Then you will accept my judgement and do what I tell you to do. And you will not retaliate to our more challenging customers by pouring drinks over them and then pretending it was an accident. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered.
"Go and sit outside again and wait for Emmett," he said, coldly. I went out to the corridor and slumped into one of the chairs, sobbing softly to myself. The sound of footsteps made my heart quicken. Someone paused in front of me for a brief moment and I saw a pair of polished black shoes, but then the person moved away so swiftly I didn't have time to look up. Mr Hale's door slammed and I heard a soft voice that I recognised. It was the man from the manager's table. His voice was so soft I couldn't hear his words, but I heard Mr Hale.
"You said yourself that they were shouting across the club for her... No, it is not appropriate... I am not willing to let a member of our staff get away with a trick like that. If I do, all of the girls will be trying the same thing if a man so much as looks at them the wrong way!... If she was really in trouble with them, she has her charm... No, Emmett said she didn't buzz for him... Fine! Have it your own way!"
The door opened and closed and I looked up through my tears, to see the blurry outline of a man standing over me. The man drew in a sharp breath and turned away from me abruptly.
"Isabella!" The voice of Mr Hale rang from the office and I got reluctantly to my feet and forced myself to go back into the office. "Take yourself to bed. You will do the daytime shift tomorrow."
"Th... thank you, sir," I stammered.