Billionaire Secrets of a Wanglorious Bastard Read Free

there.”
    The kid said, “Yes.”  
    The sister/mother said, “We can't.”
    And the waitress said, “Thanks. Let me help you.”
    She wiped me down. Tenderly. She could feel my muscles underneath my wet shirt.  
    Got her.
    She bit her lip and lingered longer with each wipe.  
    She said, “You want me to stop?”
    No. “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do.”
    Tully said, “I want you to. This is a family establishment, after all.”
    She froze.  
    Tully clicked his teeth. “It's his first day at work. And look at him.” That was Tully. Saving me from myself.
    The waitress said, “I'm sorry.”
    “Sorry ain't gonna cut it. You go and buy him a new shirt.”
    I stood up. “Don't worry about it.”
    She put her hand on my shoulder. My clumsy, bumping hottie said, “No, it's my fault. Really.”
    “It's okay. Accidents happen.”
    “No, I owe you. Let me get you another shirt.”
    “You don't have to. Besides, I'm late.” I had to get out of there.
    But she followed. “Let me at least pay for the dry cleaning. I don't have the money on me now, but I can come by your work and pay for it.”
    Tully sucked his teeth. “You're lucky he don't sue you, being a fancy lawyer and all.”
    She said with a tremble in her voice, “A lawyer?”
    Tully fed off her fear. “Yup. And at Krueller too.”
    Her eyes bugged. Like she'd seen a ghost. I needed to control things. Say something calming. Relaxing. Something that would let her know everything is okay, without giving her an invitation.
    I said, “I have to go.”  
    And I left.

3

    I COULDN'T BELIEVE I’d come so close to doing something I'd regret. Unlike Lola, I felt something with her. I had an in with her. Some silly mistake that we could laugh about. A true bonding experience. Chocolate on my shirt instead of some online ad or patronage for Rhage.
    Of all places to find someone with whom I had chemistry, why did it have to be now? Why couldn't I have found it when I was in a different place?
    Who was I kidding? I'd probably bungle it, like I bungled everything. I was sure once I was working I probably wouldn’t—
    Work. My first day. I needed to change.
    My first day.

4

    MOANING. PANTING. BLEATING.
    I had no clue what this warped, wizened weirdo of a woman was listening to. All I could see was that her nameplate read “Gladys Pitts,” which, strangely, was the name of the firm, “Krueller Pitts.” I didn't know if she was related to the original Piper Pitts, who founded the firm. Maybe that was why she could get away with what sounded to be animal porn on her Beats by Dre headphones that swallowed her tiny wrinkled face. I dared not look at her cell phone screen.
    But did anyway.
    And yep. It was what I thought and then some. I wished I had one of those Men In Black mind-eraser thingies. But I didn't, so I was fated to roam the earth for the rest of my days with the image of a goat gangbanging a farm girl.  
    “Gladys” glared at me like I was interrupting her from something important. “Make yourself useful and get some fudge for Stack.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Fudge for Stack.”
    “Fudge like?”
    “Butt Spooge. Small-size container. None of that industrial-sized crap.”
    “What?”
    “Look. It's your first day and you gotta earn your stripes. Now you can get them at CNGS on Thirty-Third and Fifth. Also, get me some Jujubes while you’re at it. Remember, small-sized. Not industrial.”
    Gladys tossed a twenty-dollar bill at me. Eyes still glued to the screen.
    What a first minute of my first day at work.

5

    CNGS. SHORT FOR Cum N Get Sum. Sleazy porn store. I rushed through the aisles with an empty basket and bumped into a pimply-faced punk with a nametag that read “TIM,” struggling to open a large can of some porntastic crap.
    I said, “Excuse me, sir. Where is the-” I looked around and whispered, “—fudge?”
    He said, “What?”
    I raised my voice a half-notch. “Fudge.”
    He dug into his ear. “Speak