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    With a Side of Sexy (Book 1): The Sexy Series, #1
    With a Side of Sexy (Book 1): The Sexy Series, #1
    With a Side of Sexy (Book 1): The Sexy Series, #1
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    With a Side of Sexy (Book 1): The Sexy Series, #1

    By GiGi Marie

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    About this ebook

    Working as a waitress in the sexiest restaurant in L.A. has its perks: hot bartenders, a steady flow of cash in your pockets, and a phenomenally exciting night life. But for someone like me, who takes pleasure in routine and order, its not all its cracked up to be. I've always liked things uncomplicated and safe. Safe, that is, until Patrick Rivers burst into my life, causing my world to spin off its axis. What I did not know was with one small act of chivalry, my life would forever change by the one thing I feared most -letting myself feel. ***This is an erotic novella with explicit sex scenes meant for mature audiences only. This is not a stand alone book but is meant to be read with the rest of the 'Sexy Series.'

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGiGi Marie
    Release dateSep 9, 2014
    ISBN9781502265432
    With a Side of Sexy (Book 1): The Sexy Series, #1
    Author

    GiGi Marie

    GiGi Marie is the author of the steamy new 'Sexy Series.' GiGi lives in the hot Arizona Desert where she creates her fiery characters and smoldering stories, pursuing her love of the romantic world of literature.

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      Book preview

      With a Side of Sexy (Book 1) - GiGi Marie

      With a Side of Sexy

      The Sexy Series – Book One

      GiGi Marie

      Copyright © 2014

      This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

      This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

      Cover Art designed by the author.

      One

      My name is April Corgan and I am in a love-hate relationship. It’s not one of those we-are-such-a-passionate-couple-that-if-we’re-not-fighting-we’re-fucking type of relationships. No. Honestly, I wish it were that. It’s different. I am in a love-hate relationship with a restaurant. I know it sounds strange, but that’s the reality of it.

      At first it was just supposed to be a stepping-stone job. I’d stay here for a year or two, help pay my way through community college, and then move on to a real job where most people envision themselves being as grown adults. Unfortunately, A La Carte became more of a lifestyle. I used to have big hopes and dreams for myself, but it is a well-known fact that if someone stays employed in the food industry for more than a decade, they can just go ahead and flush all of their aspirations down the toilet like a big stinky piece of shit.

      Oh come on April, Zac said with a wink, his words slightly slurred as he swayed in his seat. You’d never have cut me off before. Not when we were shagging.

      And here I am ten years later and my hand is nearing the toilet handle.

      Wow. My mouth dropped wide open at hearing the words —in slow motion— coming out of my ex-boyfriend’s mouth. Aside from another table of business men, the restaurant was nearly empty as it was almost closing time.

      Come on, just one more drink, he crooned.

      Zac used to bartend at A La Carte a few years ago and we’d had a passionate, three-year relationship. Zac was a dick —a charming and ruggedly handsome dick mind you, but a dick regardless. He still had friends that worked with me and he’d come in frequently to stir up trouble, waltzing in the place like he owned it. And for some reason he had recently taken to tormenting me personally, specifically requesting me to be his waitress. He was a Ducati-driving bad boy with tattoos and an English accent. I found myself in far too many moments of weakness due to that accent. He could literally walk into a room, say Allo! and the sound of a dozen women’s panties could be heard dropping to the floor. Zac was a true bad-boy at heart. And I always fell for the bad boys. It was weakness of mine.

      Admit it. You still fancy me, Zac urged in his annoyingly adorable accent. But I wasn’t buying it this time. He’d crossed the line with his earlier comment about us ‘shagging.’

      I’m calling you a cab, I replied, ignoring his implication. I admit, I had nearly fallen head-first for his boyishly-rugged charm a few times since we’d broken up a year ago. But not this time. He was just being a jerk.

      Have you been hitting the gym, April? You’re looking really hot lately.

      I picked up some dirty dishes from his table and rolled my eyes. I’d never really thought of myself as hot, per se, with my slightly-too-large nose and crazy hair, but I guess under the restaurant’s soft lighting, a dab of lip gloss, and the disguise of the sexy uniforms we were made to wear, anyone could look better than their ‘normal selves.’

      A La Carte was named one of the sexiest five-star restaurants in the Western United States. Sexy for its ambience, décor, gourmet food, and last but not least, its employees. Now I’m not calling myself sexy by any means, I just have to appear sexy. The servers and hosts —who are mostly women— are made to wear these little negligée-corset-type uniforms that would normally be seen only in the bedroom. And the few guys that do work there are shirtless. Without the sexy nightie and the glorification of being an A La Carte server, I was just a plain Jane really.

      "Anyone would look good to you with the amount of booze you’ve had tonight, I huffed. It’s time for you to go home."

      Oh come on, sweet cheeks. Just get yourself over to the bar and get me one more drink. He gave me a firm slap on my ass that sent me squeaking a few steps away. Zac was a bad boy alright —and a dick at that— but he’d never been this openly vulgar with me before. He’d definitely had too much to drink.

      You heard what the lady said. It’s time for you to go home, a baritone voice said from behind me. Startled, I turned to see who would inevitably be the man to change my life forever. Patrick Rivers. He was standing right behind me, looking like Mr. Sexy of the Sexy Parade, dressed in a sleek business suit and tie, with his sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was glaring down at Zac.

      Zac laughed and held his belly, as though this whole thing was hilarious. Oh come on man, he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. I was just rousing her up. April can take it. She’s a big girl.

      Patrick stared at Zac for a moment, his azure eyes flaring, but his face staying unreadable. And then as though speaking to a child —or a mentally handicapped person, as Zac seemed to be portraying at the moment— he slowly and smoothly said, I don’t think you understand, the lady said it was time for you to leave.

      "I guess you could call her that," Zac smirked and then pointedly looked my body up and down, his eyes landing on my cleavage.

      What the hell?

      Patrick —or the man who I’d later come to know as Patrick— took a short, yet menacing step forward towards my ex. It looked

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