chapter 72

chapter 11. Overprotective Nature BELLE THREE MONTHS LATER My feet were killing me. The heels my boss forced me to wear definitely did not provide enough support for a shift at a busy diner. It probably didn’t help that I had worked every day this week without a break. I was exhausted. I sighed, brushing my hair out of my face as I carried a tray of food to a table of drunk men who hadn’t stopped staring at my ass since they’d walked in. They all gave me grimy looks as I set down their food. I asked if they needed anything else before shuffling away quickly. Thanks to my uniform, I was used to this sort of behavior from men. It only took me one week to learn how to fight off wandering hands. When my boss handed me the short red dress, white apron, and black high heels, I almost thought he was joking—that is, until I saw that the other waitresses were wearing the same thing. But I had taken it without any complaints, just happy for the work. Pom Pom’s, the place Laila h