BECOMING HIS

My Fault by Shaboozey had been playing on repeat for ten minutes. Layla can't complain; Becca's playlist is on for the day, meaning break-up songs are rolling in order. The customers seem to enjoy it, tapping their feet to the rhythms and occasionally swaying their bodies under the dim yellow lights of the bar It was an hour to eleven o’clock, Layla's closing hour, and Layla hoped they had no more customers apart from the five people sitting at the bartender's service area with Nancy, the bartender. They seem to be getting ready to leave, which Layla hoped was soon. Layla had worked in the bar for only two months, but she could draw the conclusion that she enjoyed working with everyone here, and that her two favorite people were Becca and Nancy. Becca, the typical Nepo baby and a drop-dead gorgeous blond-haired woman, owns the bar. She said it had been a gift given to her by her father after she graduated from business school, while Nancy, Becca's best friend, was an occasional cocktail waitress. When the curvy Filipino lady wasn't helping Becca make financial decisions, she was helping with carrying out orders and being a bartender. She was the personification of a Jack of all trades in the bar. The bar had six major staffs, Layla and Nancy, who today, worked the afternoon shift, Jason and Mike, who will be working the evening shift and Bekky and Gemma, who had worked the morning shift. It was the balanced combination of male and female, talk about equal opportunities. Whereas Becca oversees everything. She is present at every hour of the day, and sometimes Layla wondered if she ever slept cause the bar was open 24/7. Layla had been standing by the door of the kitchen, singing along to Shaboozay; she partially knew the song lyrically after listening to it on repeat, when she heard boisterous laughter coming from the entrance door. She groaned internally, not wanting any more customers until Jason and Mike arrived. The doors of the bar opened to reveal three men in corporate shirts and pants. They were laughing as they walked in, their eyes searching for someone or something. Layla wasn't sure. They looked like they just came out of the office, oozing in expensive musk perfumes that enveloped the room. They looked like they worked into the night, their eyes tired from the work but still happy. She had never seen white-collar men this happy in her life. It wasn't just their eyes, Layla noticed. She noticed how individually handsome each man was and she couldn't stop herself from staring. They were mesmerizing to look at, and she was glad they hadn’t noticed her yet. The man on the right was dark-skinned, the tallest amongst them, with lean muscle built. His hair was a clean, faded cut that merged with his trimmed beard below his temples. She noticed both ears were pierced with what seemed to be studded diamonds. The man on the left had a boyish look that reminded her of the older version of Zayn Malik. He seemed to be the youngest out of the three and his eyes shone the brightest, but he was more muscular than the dark-skinned man. The two men faded in comparison to the Greek god in the middle. The dark-haired, bearded, gentle man did something to her. He had his shirt rolled up at the sleeves to reveal tattoos that stopped at his wrists. His hair was packed in a man-bun, and his beards were perfectly trimmed just as she liked it for men. His build was exotic, massive with tantalizing muscles. Layla felt the buttons on his shirt might pop off from the muscles pushing up against them. She looked at the shoes, belt, wristwatches, and gold chain hidden behind the collar. These men had money, not just any kind of money, Old-money kind of money. In her previous line of work, she had been taught how to identify rich from the wanna be rich, and these men right here are the definition of RICH She scanned their fingers for a wedding band, but she saw nothing. Thank God, cause she would feel bad for ogling another woman's husband. Ellen needs to feature these men in her magazine. Layla could already picture them in the cover of the New York magazine, The Most Eligible Bachelors of New York. She was glad she wore a low-cut tank top today. She pushed her breasts up to reveal more cleavage and applied lipstick and lip gloss to her dry lips. She wasn't a seductress, but she knew men like these. They appreciated beauty and were willing to tip massively if treated right, and she needed money for rent this month and next month. "Becca!" The youngest yelled out her name with a thick baritone that vibrated in the air the moment he saw her at the corner booth reviewing expenses on her laptop and whatever bosses do in their alone time. He put his arms out for a hug, but Becca swatted them down. "f**k off Dainn," Becca said, laughing at the young man. Layla watched the last customer walk out and returned her gaze to the men Layla observed them quietly as they rounded Becca and sat with her in the six-seater booth. They seemed very familiar with her. She wondered if they were her friends or family. She had never seen them in the bar before. She doubts they have been here this month cause they are hard to miss and difficult to forget. "Nancy love, could you pour me a scotch?" The dark-skinned man spoke with a rich British accent, nodding at Nancy, who nodded back. "Sure thing, Vincent," Nancy said before screaming over her shoulder to Layla, "Layla! Table 5" Layla walked over to the barista. She took the glass of scotch and put it on a tray. "Who are they?" Layla whispered yelled to Nancy gesturing to the men "Family friends of Becca." Nancy whispered back "My gosh, I didn't know she had these gems hidden," Layla gave a low whistle, wiggling her eye brows "I know right, I could have pocketed one if I wasn't engaged," Nancy laughed, shooing her away with her fingers. She walked over to the table but none of the men even paid her attention until she placed the tray on the table. "On the rocks for you." She placed the cold drink in front of the dark-skinned man. She looked up from the table to see his eyes on her, not just his eyes, everyone's eyes. "You didn't tell me you have new hands, Becca." Vincent gave a sly smile to Becca, who just rolled her eyes "Well, time for introductions since this is the first time in a long time you've been my customers," Becca said, closing her laptop "This is Layla," Becca gestured to Layla, who gave a mock curtsy. "Layla from Long Island." "Layla meet Vincent, Dainn and Ethan," Becca gestured to each man. Her eyes lingered on Ethan a little longer than the others. Everything about him was mesmerizing, and she liked that he stared at her the same way. Days like this, she thanked God for her sharp features, her fiery red hair, and emerald green eyes, bestowed upon her by her Irish mother and Scottish father. "A pleasure to meet you love," Vincent seems to call everyone love, Layla noted. "I must say you're a sight for these sore eyes right here." He pointed to his heavy eyes before looking back at Becca, who stood up and was ready to leave. Becca groaned, "You guys have fun, I have a business to balance, and I can’t do that with you three bickering in my ears." She added, "Oh, Layla, bills are on the house," she gestured as the men watched her leave "Yes Ma'am." Layla gave a mock salute and watched Becca leave before turning around and asking. "So, what can I get you, gentlemen?" Layla couldn't help but notice the way Vincent stared at Becca as she left. It wasn't just a stare, it was something deeper. She almost laughed in realization. It's either two things: they had f****d or they are still f*****g, and Vincent seemed to be in love. ~~~ "Ethan?" Dainn called his attention back to earth. He had been shamelessly looking at the beautiful woman before him; he didn't care if they caught him staring, who wouldn't stare when faced with a beautiful woman like her "Yeah?" Ethan asked looking at Dainn "I said what would you like to order?" The ginger-haired, fox-eyed woman before him spoke. Even her voice stirred his wolf. His wolf peeked and took a sniff. She smells nice, but human. He didn’t care if she was human, she stirred both him and the wild in him. His wolf is pleased with her "Anything that would get me drunk," he winked at her. It's been a long time since he felt a s****l stir in him. He'd been saddled with work lately, and he never got the chance to get laid for over six months. Not that it was his choice, but the wolf in him rejected every woman he had an ounce of interest in. But the goddess before him stirred something in him, something him and his wild self wanted. "You have to be more specific big guy," she laughed, placing her hands on her hips. The valley of skin beneath the short skirt she wore caught his attention. f**k she's gorgeous. His fingers itched to touch her. Touch her in many ways beyond his or her imagination. "What would you recommend, beautiful?" Ethan asked, putting his hand out for Layla's before placing a kiss on her knuckles. Her skin was velvety soft. "Not quite sure, handsome," she leaned closer, her cleavage on full display. "But I'm sure Nancy can figure something." "You know love, we're here to get our mate wasted," Vincent tapped Ethan's shoulder. "He got his driver parked around, so don't bother about him driving drunk." It wasn’t in his plans to get drunk, but he would agree with whatever Vincent and Dainn says "He's had his tight ass up in the office all day and we need him to get loose." Dainn added "Give him something to knock him off his square bum," Ethan paid no attention to what his friends said. He's eyes were trapped in Layla's emerald stare. She looked at him with such intensity and he reciprocated. His eyes traced the outline of her body. Her cleavage was on full display, he could see that her breasts were perfect, round, and full and she had grab-able hips, wide with a slim waist that emphasized her curves. He was a big guy and he liked his women to have the kind of body to manage it. Not only was she pretty, but she was also perfect for s*x. She doesn't know it yet but he's going to f**k her tonight.