Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3) - Page 74

Clipboard in hand, I storm to Trent’s office and find him sitting on his ass in front of the computer. “What the hell is this?”

He turns to see what I’m holding. “That is a schedule. It’s how employees know when to come to work.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t be a smartass. Felix was not scheduled to work tonight. You manipulated the schedule to fire him. Felix has never had so much as a single write-up; you can’t do this.”

His tone is bored as he clicks his mouse. “Take it up with your boyfriend.”

Growling low in my throat, I mutter, “Oh, I will. Did you already call Felix and tell him he was fired?”

“I’ve been informed that he knows,” Trent replies.

“Bullshit.”

Trent shrugs.

“You’re a terrible manager.”

“Hey, if you want to tell Rafe Morelli no when he tells you to do something, be my guest. He won’t think it’s cute coming from me,” Trent assures me.

Rafe doesn’t answer my phone call, so it’s hours later before I can resolve this problem. I don’t have Felix’s number in my phone, so I can’t call him and beg him not to get a new job. Now I’m worried he won’t come back, and he’s one of our better employees, so this pisses me off on a professional level as well as a personal one.

At least when Rafe arrives at the restaurant tonight, I don’t have to struggle with my post break-up feelings. The only emotion I have to deal with is anger. I’ve put myself in his shoes, and sure, I can understand if he was jealous. Felix is an appealing man. But after four years of watching him parade other women around in front of me, he’ll have to forgive me for not having much sympathy for his sudden bout of jealousy.

When I show up at his table, I do not bring a drink. Normally when he shows up alone, I start him off with a drink. He glances at my empty hands, then my face. He sees me scowling and frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“You fired Felix.”

Understanding dawns and his expression clears. Casually grasping at innocence, he says, “I believe Trent fired Felix. He’s the manager, after all.”

“He’s a weasel. Felix was not scheduled to work tonight. I just looked at the schedule last night. You had Trent change it so Felix couldn’t come back at you saying it was wrongful termination—but it was. This is bullshit. He’s the best bartender we have, and I’m not going to let you fire him because I’m an asshole when I’m drunk. Felix didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Felix took you back to his house,” Rafe says, simply.

My eyes widen. “So? He’s allowed to take single women back to his house, and I was single, wasn’t I?”

Leaning forward and grabbing a menu he doesn’t even need, Rafe keeps his eyes on that to avoid looking at me. “We’ve already discussed this, Virginia. This is my restaurant. I want to be comfortable here. I’m not going to tolerate you fucking someone else right under my nose.”

I barely keep my jaw from hitting the ground. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

His dark gaze slides up to meet mine. “I brought women in here before I fucked you, not after.”

“You just said this morning you were going to bring them in after—before you fucked me again, in case your hypocritical memory is failing you.”

“And when that day comes, then you may sleep with anyone you like, but today is not that day. I don’t want Felix around if you’re going to be flirting with him.”

“You’re… you’re an asshole,” I inform him.

“I’m aware,” he says.

“This isn’t right, and I don’t accept it. I’m shredding his termination paperwork and I’m putting him back on the schedule—the real schedule, the one that was up yesterday. If you don’t like it, you can fire me.”

Rafe keeps his tone low, but it carries a hint of menace. “I would be very careful about defying me, Virginia. I can fire him much more permanently if you push me.”

“If you hurt him, I will never forgive you,” I tell him. “Felix has done nothing to you. He has done nothing to me. He was a friend, a shoulder to cry on when you hurt me, and nothing more. I do not flirt with him. I have no intention of sleeping with him. I just think he’s a good worker, that’s all.”

Rafe unravels his cloth napkin full of silverware. “Well, I hope that’s true. Feel free to rehire him if it is, but if I find out it isn’t, he’ll be fired again—and you won’t have much luck finding him to give him his job back, if you take my meaning.”

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