Tapout (The Submission Fighter Book 3) Read Free Page A

he continued still holding onto her grip, “if you get us that much publicity every time you’re out and about with him, I can’t stay mad.”
     
    With that, Pete dropped her hand and walked out of the room confidently. Alice watched as he went back into the kitchen to bark orders at the other waitresses checking in for the lunch shift. She sat down in the chair he had abandoned and pondered his last sentence. What did he mean by “publicity?” What “publicity?” Where was this all coming from? She was at a total loss.
     
    Alice touched up the final bits of her lipstick and tucked some strands of hair in place. As she stood, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her shorts and tied the black apron loosely around her waist. It was time to claim her domain.
     
    Pete gathered the three waitresses together in a huddle. Caroline was there, as Alice had expected. She was sporting her usual uniform—dark makeup, a dirty t-shirt, shorts, and a piss poor attitude. She chomped spastically on a piece of gum, as Pete assigned Caroline her tables and Alice was given the coveted spot up at the front servicing the bar area. 
     
    “Why is she getting special treatment? The bar countertops are my space.” Caroline’s hands were on her tiny hips, as she eyed down Pete and Alice as if they were in on the conspiracy together. Pete brushed her off, ignoring her question altogether as he reviewed the lunch specials and handed out break times. The small group broke, and each headed out to their respected areas.
     
    Alice settled into the bar area quickly. Working this area gave her time to chit-chat with regulars and be a bit more social than if she was running from booth to booth. She could see why Caroline, who hated breaking a sweat doing anything outside the bedroom, loved this territory. Each of the customers Alice served was friendlier than the next.
     
    One customer in particular seemed especially perky, yet needy that day. Whenever Alice had a second, he would jostle for her attention. He requested more napkins, needed some water, wanted to know what food she recommended, and asked to see a menu the second time. She was more than happy to oblige.
     
    However, when he begun to ask her questions, Alice couldn’t help but become a bit suspicious. Sure, a customer would occasionally ask her about her personal life. The really flirty ones would even go so far as to ask her information about her boyfriends (despite not having one until recently). Others would ask about her accent or where her family was located. In either case, she was fine giving a vague answer and moving about her day.
     
    But the man seemed to only pile it on. First, he asked her how long she had been working at the Tick Tock. It was pretty innocent, so she answered truthfully. On her second round, it was more along the lines of “Why do you like being a waitress?” and “What do you do in your free time?” When he finally approached the relationship question, every bit of her screamed that there was something more sinister going on.
     
    She began to watch him closely. She had been on the shift for nearly three hours, and he had been at his spot the whole time. It was not unusual to have a regular sit around for an extended period of time. But for an out-of-towner, this was something brand new for Alice. He ordered coffee; then an appetizer. His main meal came out an hour later. Then, he stuck around and ordered dessert after dessert. And with each plate delivery, he began to eye his waitress more boldly and ask more pointed questions.
     
    Alice placed a piece of carrot cake in front of the man, as he bent over a small white notepad, furiously writing away with a small, golf sized pencil. She tried to eye what he was doing, but he kept his arm protectively around it. What she could see, however, was the fold of an old newspaper sticking out from under his brown coat. The pages of which had been tabbed and folded over.
     
    After some time, the man went