Read Down to You for Free Online Page B

one is raised in undeniable anger.
    “So I get stuck training some newbie? This is
such bullshit! I have the most seniority here. He should’ve at
least asked me.”
    I can see who the voice belongs to—a wisp of
a girl with long blond dreadlocks and one arm full of tattoos.
She’s waving her hands in furious animation, shouting at a young
guy who looks about as flustered as a cucumber.
    “Slow your roll, psycho,” he says
good-naturedly. I can only see the back of his dark head, but I
know he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice. In fact, he sounds
like he’s trying not to laugh. “He said she’s got experience. She
probably won’t need that much training.”
    “If she’s gonna be working with me, she’ll
either be the best or I won’t work with her.”
    “You’re such a sweet, agreeable beer wench,
you know that, Taryn?”
    The girl, Taryn, who had turned away to fill
up something behind the bar, whirls on him so fast I can hear her
dreads slap his face.
    “What did you call me?”
    The guy tips his head back and laughs. Hard.
I fully expect to see the girl go for his eyes, but instead, she
surprises me and grins. And just like that, it’s over.
    “Are you gonna try to get off and go to the
concert with me?” she asks congenially.
    Their voices drop into a more conversational
tone that I can’t hear as clearly and feel guilty for listening to.
Time to either get the hell out of here or make my presence known.
And trust me, it’s no easy decision. Just the thought of working
with someone like this girl Taryn gives me heartburn.
    Before I can give much consideration to
backing out, I reach down for every last ounce of bravado I
possess, I clear my throat and I start making my way toward the
bar.
    Both heads turn to watch me as I approach. As
I get closer, I can see that, although obviously in possession of
one hellacious temper, the girl is quite beautiful with her wide
almond eyes and full ruby lips. And the guy is…wow! He’s quite
beautiful, too.
    He looks exotic. Maybe Hawaiian or Cuban. He
has light caramel skin, jet black hair and eyes to match. And the
smile he turns on me? Holy shit.
    What is this? The land of misfit models?
    I try not to be self-conscious in my outfit.
It’s not very revealing, at least not uncomfortably so, but I still
feel…nervous. The pants ride low, showing off a decent-sized square
of stomach, and the tank top is probably a size smaller than what
I’d normally wear, revealing a healthy shot of cleavage. All in
all, it’s nothing trashy, but it’ll get me plenty of attention, I’m
sure. That’s what makes me nervous.
    I don’t fill my shirt out nearly as well as
Taryn, whose buoyant boobs are undeniably artificial. She’s skinny
everywhere else, though, which makes me kinda proud of my curves.
If there’s one thing I’ve got, it’s junk in my trunk.
    I smile widely and stick out my hand. “Hi.
I’m Olivia. You must be Taryn,” I say, addressing the girl first.
Evidently, if there’s anyone I can expect to have trouble with,
it’ll be her.
    “I would say I’ve been expecting you, but I
just found out I’ll be training you, so...”
    She’s prickly, yes, but not overtly hostile.
I take that as a good sign and go in like a linebacker. “I’ll try
my best to catch on quick. Luckily, I have plenty of bartending
experience, so…” I say, trailing off like she did.
    She nods, but her smile is clearly doubtful.
“We’ll see.”
    “Great!” I say exuberantly. “I look forward
to it.” Quickly, I turn to the guy, aiming my hand in his
direction. He’s still smiling. “Olivia.”
    “Marco,” he says smoothly, his eyes twinkling
with mischief. Every now and again you meet someone you just know is immediately attracted to you. There is no doubt in
my mind that Marco is attracted to me. He’s not even trying to hide
it. And why would he? There’s probably not a female on the planet
who could resist the charms of someone like him—dark,