Wanted Dead or In Love by Kym Brunner EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Kym Brunner
- Language: English
- Genre:Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Friday, May 20th // 8:42 P.M.
Monroe
I deliver a third Bugsy Malone to the old guy at table seven, whose
unnaturally dark hair against his wrinkly skin makes him look
ridiculous, not younger. He watches me as I lean forward to place his
drink next to him, making no effort to hide the fact that he’s staring
at my cleavage. He rests his age-spot-riddled hand on top of mine,
his diamond pinky ring glistening off the stage lights. “What time
you get off tonight? I’d like to buy you a drink.”
He strokes my hand twice, making a river of disgust rise up my
arm. One look at his smarmy smile and I know he’s a rich jerk who’s
too full of himself to realize I’m only acting like a promiscuous
flapper. I’m a breath away from saying that I’d rather stab myself in
the eye with his butter knife than have a drink with him, when I stop
myself.
Insulting the customers is definitely not on the list of good
business practices.
I chomp on my gum a few times, pull myself back into character,
and break out the stereotypical Jersey accent we’re all supposed to
use, “Sorry busta, but we ain’t allowed to date the customers.” I slide
my hand out from under his, walking away before he sees me
grimace.
Luckily, there are only three songs left in tonight’s performance of
Gangsters of Love, our musical dinner show set in the back alleys of
Chicago during Prohibition. Once you walk through the doors of The
Clip Joint, you’d swear you’re in a bustling, noisy gin mill swarming
with flappers and mob bosses. Dad’s owned the place sixteen years
now, making this boozy jazz scene such a big part of my life that if
there were a time machine, I would fit right in during the 1920s. An
era filled with people who live for the moment appeals to me.
Clarissa, one of six servers on tonight, hustles down the aisle in a
yellow Charleston dress with layers of fringe. It’s one of the cheap
flapper dresses Dad buys in bulk from an online Halloween shop for
our waitresses, along with strings of fake pearls and brimless hats. I
brush my hand through the beaded fringe on my own dress, a black
silk, drop-waist beauty I purchased from a local vintage shop. I just
hope these beads don’t fall off as quickly as the last one.
“Psst—meet me in back!” Clarissa whispers, before doing a doubletake. “Whoa! Love your hair!” She reaches up and strums my
shoulder length bob, her eyes wide with admiration.
“Thanks, Clarissa,” I say, relieved that someone likes it as much as
I do. I’ll admit that getting my boring brown locks chopped and dyed
into a flapper-inspired black bob three days ago was impulsive.
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