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Her shoulders knocked up in a shrug, a slender gold necklace glistening from her collarbone. “I thought I would surprise you. I’m so sorry I didn’t text you back Wednesday night.” She nervously pulled at a strand of her auburn hair as she studied my face. “I’ve been at my parents’ up in Bozeman for a family reunion and . . . it was a hectic few days.”
I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” Relief flooded her features.
Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about Charlea since I texted her Wednesday night before—well, before—and there was definitely a little tug of guilt beneath the excitement of seeing her now. Not that either of us had anything to feel guilty about—our relationship was a strictly casual no-strings type of deal. The fact that I’d ended Wednesday night with Leo instead of Charlea was perfectly within the bounds of our arrangement.
Still, it felt good to see her. Even if I did just sign away my ability to do anything more than see her for the next week. She let out a deep exhale. “God, I’ve missed you, Mara.” Her mouth twisted up in a flirtatious smirk, and though I could feel the tendrils of desire begin to snake their way through my veins, I had to be fair to us both and see it for what it was: a distraction.
Leo’s words from his office were still tumbling around my head, still sputtering through my heart. The truth, plain and simple, was I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else after our night together. It was going to take a lot of effort to shake that high.
“How was the reunion?” I asked, careful to steer the conversation to safer grounds.
She grimaced. “Um . . . you know . . . it was okay? My mom was practically chiseling at my soul for any update on my dating life—she’s determined to find me a suitable man to marry.” Charlea was from a conservative family and was dealing with the pressure that came with being a girl who was into girls. Though we’d only danced around it, I was pretty sure her parents still didn’t know she was gay.
I frowned. “I’m sorry, babe. Hopefully you had some fun?”
Her mouth tugged up into a smile. “As much fun as someone can have surrounded by cattle and manure.”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had all night. “Do you want a drink?”
She nodded. “Yes please—the usual?”
I smiled. “Coming right up.” I veered toward the backbar to grab a nice bottle of vodka—I wasn’t going to serve the girl responsible for a handful of orgasms each week house liquor that smelled like rubbing alcohol—and felt my phone buzz from where I’d tucked it into my waistband. Besides my co-workers here, Charlea was really the only other person I texted, so I couldn’t imagine who it might be. After grabbing the vodka and a chilled copper mug, I set both down on the rubber mat near the soda gun and pulled my phone out to find a new text notification on the screen.
I caught a quick flash of Leo’s name just as Sam whizzed by, missing me by a hairbreadth. “Please tell me you have extra oranges sliced over here,” he called out as he pulled the fridge’s door open.
I clicked my tongue at him. “You know, if you put a little more effort in prepping on the nights you open, you wouldn’t run out of your garnishes so quickly. It’s Saturday night, Sam. You know you’re going to need to have extra shit on hand.”
He gave me a sheepish look as he ducked down, scanning the lower shelves. “I know, I know—I’m sorry. I got in a little late today . . . the sitter canceled at the last minute and I had to make an unexpected stop at my mom’s to drop Molly off.”
Shedding the attitude, I frowned. “Oh. Don’t worry about it . . . I was just giving you a hard time.”
Sam pulled a stainless steel container full of orange slices out and held it above his head in victory. “Jackpot!” His eyes flashed in my direction. “I’m stealing these.”
A laugh fizzed out of me at the sheer delight in his expression. “Okay, but you owe me. Cut some more and replace them when things slow down?”
He nodded eagerly. “Of course! Thank you.” He bent down to press a chaste kiss on my cheek as he hustled back to his end of the bar. I laughed again as I looked down at my phone.
LEOPOLD
Good evening. I find it necessary to remind you of an active contract in which you agreed to be mine. And I don’t share what is mine, Mara.
My stomach flipped at the words on the screen as I read them again.
And again.
He must have seen me talking to Charlea. Not even two hours after the ink dried, and he was already pulling some territorial bullshit. Looking up, I scanned the busy crowd for any signs of Leo amongst the patrons, but didn’t see him anywhere. And then, as the colorful house lights made a sweep across the room in tandem with the beat of the DJ’s music, the glint from a new camera above the bar spliced through the dark club. Of course.
Leo was spying on me through his fancy new security system.
Just as I was about to send off a sassy retort, another text buzzed though.
LEOPOLD
For fuck’s sake. Do you allow all the employees to kiss you like that?
Rolling my eyes, I threw the camera a menacing glare before returning my attention to the bottle of vodka in front of me. Sam was harmless—not to mention in a relationship—and I wasn’t going to let Leo start controlling how I interacted with the people in my life. I decided not to respond to his texts, instead focusing on making a Moscow mule for Charlea. I’d just anchored myself to him for the next week, I couldn’t also let him see me fluster.
I garnished the edge of the copper mug with a lime wedge, and then walked the drink over to Charlea and set it down in front of her. “On me,” I said with a wink. “Let me know when you’re ready for another one—I’ll check in on you soon.”
