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If you didn’t know any better, you’d think we were a couple. But I do know better, so I kiss her back and take a seat next to Adam. Jenny plops down, sitting across my lap.
“Hey, what’s up, Zoey? Ladies?” I greet everyone else. Adam gives me a silent toast, raising his glass that looks like it’s filled with a mojito, with a lime wedge on the rim. One of the girls, a petite ginger, keeps her arm around his.
“Hey, Maddox,” Ginger greets me with a flirtier tone than friendly.
Jenny lifts a hand to my face, making sure I look at her. It doesn’t take a genius to realize what she’s doing, and it makes me chuckle. Leaning closer, my lips brush against her ear. “Jealousy is a good look on you,” I whisper.
“I’m not jealous,” Jenny replies, then gives me a quick kiss. “Just making sure she knows whose you are tonight.”
I chuckle. “Wow, marking your territory? You gonna ask me to tattoo your name on my arm next?”
She lifts her shoulders, giggling. “Maybe.”
Off on the other side of the second floor, Cecelia walks behind the bar, talking to the bartender.
Derrik goes back to talking to Adam, but I slap his shoulder.
“Check it.” I point to the bar area.
His vision moves to the area I’m pointing to, and I hear him chuckle. “Seriously? You want to get shot down three times?”
“Bet!” I yell at him.
“Oh, I’ll take that bet.”
My “bet” phrase is something I did during our tour. It didn’t happen much, because, after the first few times, it wasn’t a challenge. But when I was trying to help Derrik get over Zoey, who he swore at the time he was over, I’d take him out to clubs and parties. I’d point out a girl and yell, “Bet.”
We’d name our terms, and if I couldn’t get the girl’s number, I’d have to follow through. If I did get her number, then he would have to pay up. Our terms were everything between buying one another some sneakers to an expensive piece of music memorabilia.
“Terms?” I look over at him.
“What are you guys doing?” Jenny asks, but I ignore her.
“If you don’t get her number, you buy the band lunch for the rest of the month.”
“Done. When I get her number, you have to sing ‘I’m a Barbie Girl’ in between one of my sets.”
He starts laughing. “Dude, you’re never going to do it. You already dug yourself in too deep.”
“Do you agree?”
“Oh, I agree. I’m just telling you that you already lost.”
“What is happening right now?” Jenny asks.
“Sorry, babe. I need to do this.” She slides off from my lap, and I get up, cracking my neck. I glance down at Derrik, who’s still smirking, and I nod to him as if to say get ready to pay up.
“Watch this,” Derrik tells Zoey.
I don’t look over at him. I’m getting in the zone.
The deli was an anomaly. That’s what I’m calling it. She’s technically my boss, and I was completely caught off guard. The elevator was a mistake. After our first encounter, I should’ve realized who she was, but I was so stuck on the fact that she burned me at the sandwich shop. That was my bad.
This time? This time it’s in the bag.
As I stroll over to her, she smiles at the bartender, and he says something to her, but the music is loud enough that I can’t hear what it is. Walking closer, I give a playful knock on the bar. She looks amazing. Instead of the skirt I remember her in, tonight she’s wearing what appears to be a pantsuit ensemble with a small blazer. It’s all black, but along the collar, it’s outlined with lavender-colored accents. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but she still has the alluring lipstick I’m continually drawn to. She looks like a boss. I mean, she is the boss in Luxe, but she looks … in charge.
The bartender—a tall, slender man with a thin-lined beard that travels around his chin—looks over and smiles. “What can I get for you?”
