If Eder really made The Spades sing Bitch at Willy and made him angry, Willy would blame him too…
“What? You were the one who said the customer is always right, weren’t you?” Frank smiled faintly, returning to his seat and crossing his legs with a faint smile. “What, is that tip too cheap for you?”
“Oh—no, of course not, sir.” Eder wiped the sweat off his brow, feeling a little awkward.
Still, he gritted his teeth and steeled himself as he stared at the golden card between Frank’s fingertips.
Ten million, and all tips to the band would be split fifty-fifty between the bar and the band!
That means he would have a five million dollar cut—his bar would be compensated for any losses!
Who dared would win… Moreover, he was in no place to meddle with some rich kids’ dispute. All he had to do was be the tool he was.
“You heard him. He wants another song—are you going to sing or not?!”
As Eder turned coldly toward Kat, he was surprised by Kat’s sweet smile and complete change in attitude.
She even returned on stage, picking up the bass guitar she threw on the floor.
“Bitch, was it?” she said, emphasizing the word and leaving Willy glowering. “Don’t worry—I’ll do my best to sing it.”
Lily remained worried, however. “Kat, your boyf—I mean, is Master Lawrence that rich? Isn’t he just putting on airs?”
“Probably not,” Kat said hesitantly, herself unsure.
“Frank Lawrence!” Willy sprang to his feet just then, pointing at Frank as he snapped, “What is the meaning of this?! You’re messing with me, aren’t you!”
“I mean nothing by it.” Frank shrugged innocently.
Willy’s eyes narrowed murderously. “You’re suicidal, insulting me!”
“I’m just insulting a bitch for being one,” Frank quipped. “If you’re not one, then you wouldn’t feel insulted by it. Why don’t you sit down and enjoy it?”
His cheeky remark left many other guests stifling their laughter. They would not actually laugh out loud considering the influence Willy had and would suffer if they did.
“Son of a …” Willy was left fuming.
If he kept arguing with Frank, he would be admitting to being a bitch.
But if he showed restraint, it would mean he was taking an insult lying down!
Waving to stop The Spades from playing, he stared daggers at Frank and snapped coldly, “Twenty million dollars! Suicidal!”
“Whoa?”
Everyone else watched interestedly as Willy and Frank continued to compete.
Whatever the case might be, The Spades would definitely get famous after today, what with being tipped twenty million dollars for one song!
And the onlooking crowd was not disappointed as Frank smiled faintly despite Willy’s face already contorting from rage. “Are you alright? Anyway, I really insist we all listen to the song Bitch today. A hundred million dollars.”
