𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐄, ʳᵃᶠᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵒⁿ

𝗏𝗂𝗂𝗂. 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐄 / 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
❛ i have some business to attend to. ❜

MACKENZIE WAS ABOUT TO CRASH OUT and the shrill of the restaurant's bell was all she heard, engraving itself into her brain as a sound she'd eventually run from. The long work day seemed to drag on as she wiped down her table. It was only two hours into her shift and she was already cursing herself for picking up Jacob's closing shift.

But the lingering thoughts still remained in her mind. Dad's spent the rest of the money for the bills. You need this.

Mackenzie groaned internally, cursing out her brother for his naive nature as he wondered around town with their friends to his workplace--a luxury hotel on the North Side where they would hopefully discover the location of the Royal Merchant's shipwreck.

Although, like stated, Mackenzie was in fact, not joining them. Rather, busy serving trust-funds who treated her like shit and tipped even worse.

"I'm going to jump of a fucking bridge if those assholes come in one more time and don't leave a tip." Mackenzie mutters to her coworker, Ophelia, as she wipes off the table. "They didn't leave a single dollar for tip and they had a $100 tab."

"That's Kooks for ya," Ophelia says. "It's all fun and games to spend money until it starts to go to someone who genuinely needs it."

"Tell me about it." With a roll of her eyes, Mackenzie retreats further into the restaurant and toward the bar, where she begins to pour a Diet Coke for her table.

Then, it rings out again. The damn dinging that made her want to toss the thing into the ocean. Although, this time it's followed with the sound of a bar stool scratching on the hardwood floors.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Mackenzie says blandly, not daring to look up from the tray of drinks she slid into her arms.

"I hope so."

His voice worked its way through her ear drums, causing a small ache in the back of her head and a deep roll of her eyes. With the tray of drinks in hand, she turns around to see Rafe Cameron's shit-eating grin as he adjusts in his seat. "Looked what the cat dragged in. Again."

Mackenzie moves toward her table, passing him as releases a light chuckle. "Good to see you too, Mack."

Mackenzie shakes her head of his menacing laugh, plastering a fake smile to her face as she begins to hand out her drinks to the screaming children at her table. "I'll be back to take your orders in a moment."

She moves swiftly across the floor, wishing she could hide behind the counter and avoid any conversation she'd find herself in with the Cameron boy. But as fates would have it... he kept sitting in her section.

"Okay, Cameron," Mackenzie tightens her ponytail before bending her arms, leaning on the mahogany countertop. "What kind of trouble are you going to cause for me today?"