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Single Mom’s Secret Baby
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He helped me out.
I was fired from my waitressing job for refusing a client’s advances.
He says he wants to claim what’s his, for good.
Single Mom’s Secret Baby is a standalone romance novel. Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!
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Sammy’s Restaurant is well known in our neighborhood for being the preferred destination for anybody looking to kick back and relax, particularly after a hard day’s work.
It was only fitting that I am employed here as a waitress. I can still hear my mother’s complaints that I should do something better with my life at the back of my head.
But on this crowded, hot day, I could not care less because all I needed was enough money to handle my rent problems. My landlord was quite strict with me, he always felt that he could find a better tenant to live in the apartment I currently share with my eight-year old daughter.
I was only a hundred dollars short, but I was desperate to make everything right. I was moving back and forth between tables taking orders and delivering food. There was nothing pleasing about the job, but I did not have much of a choice.
When I finished school, I spent almost an entire year going for holidays with some of my friends until it became too expensive for me. My mother was livid with me because my only interest was to hang out with my friends instead of starting to look for a job.
It was my mistake, really, because I was young and dumb and free, preferring to party with my friends than tackle real responsibility. I felt popular but looking back, it was fleeting and fickle. Things had now changed and I needed to take care of my rapidly growing daughter.
My popularity completely disappeared within that year as everybody else fit in to a new way of living. All my friends got jobs, got families and soon enough, I was the odd one out.
Since then, everything was a struggle for me. I gave birth when I was still quite young and I didn’t realize how hard it was to be a single mother. At first, I got support from my friends and family members, but now it had reached a point where the trouble was squarely on my shoulders.
Today, I was moving about in the restaurant in a short mini-skirt that matched my black, flowing hair. It was a required part of our uniform. There was music playing and the restaurant looked to be kicking. There were a bunch of guys staring at me, particularly when I passed close to their tables.
Then the inevitable happened. One guy literally smacked my ass, giving me an enthusiastic open-palm spank that left me in shock because of the guy’s rude brazenness in doing it.
I stopped dead in my tracks and I felt as though the music in the restaurant also stopped. My heart was beating very fast and I could feel the fury building up in me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded, turning around to meet a crude smile on a middle-aged man’s face.
He had a moustache on an otherwise craggy face and he did not seem at all embarrassed by what he had just done.
I was not sure if other patrons had noticed what had just happened, but I felt as though I was going to be unable to contain my anger.
“Sorry miss,” he said, sitting there, unmoved, “you’re really beautiful.”
“So what?” I demanded, “That’s completely uncalled for, sir. You’re in big trouble.”
I felt the blood inside me warming up. I was so angry I actually wanted to slap the stupid smile off his ugly face. But he just sat there, unassuming.
“That’s illegal,” I said, “you can’t touch me like that. Get out of here.”
The man did not move; he just sat there and I immediately realized that my manager was walking over. Some of the other patrons had noticed the commotion and had stopped talking as my manager got to me.
“What’s going on, here?” He asked me.
“Your waitress is very rude,” said the man who had just smacked me, “I did not expect this kind of service.”
I could see a frown developing on my manager’s face. I tried explaining myself but he was not having any of it.
“You must respect your customers,” said my manager, looking at me squarely in the eyes.
“He hit me in the ass,” I countered, surprised that my manager was not going to take my side.
“You’re fired, Molly,” he said, pointing towards the exit. “Here, we show respect to our customers. The customer is always right.”
I felt my heartbeat increasing. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. I tried in vain to explain myself but my manager’s mind was already made up. The man who had hit me was still seated comfortably with a big smile on his face.
The commotion had now drawn everybody’s attention and I felt as though the ground would open up and swallow me whole. How could my manager take the word of some degenerate man over me? Besides, I was the victim here.