From everything I’d garnered, none of what he’d said was performative bullshit. He was that good of a boss.
It added another unknown to my long list.
Why did he have such a hard time keeping employees?
My brain was a whirl as I scanned the group—my new coworkers—for any subtle signs of fear or discontent. I was so focused on them, I nearly missed the topic change.
“You might’ve noticed a pretty face around here,” he said.
And my discreet scanning turned to outright staring as I looked around for who he was talking about.
But he gestured right to me. He was callingmethe pretty face.
Harlow did just warn me of his autopilot charm, but this seems like a bit much.
“This is Lo. She took pity on me and agreed to help out for a bit till I can get more staff in here.”
It was the perfect thing to say, but he didn’t leave it at that. Oh no. Because of-fucking-course he didn’t.
A wide grin split his face and made his dimples deepen to new, uncharted levels of attractiveness. “She’s also my girlfriend.”
A room full of wide eyes zeroed in on me.
Yup.
A nightmare.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I’LL TAKE MY JACK FAKE AND NEAT
LUNA
“So about those nonexistent vibes…”
I looked around to ensure no one was near before I whispered to Harlow, “Cover.”
“I thought you were… You know.”
So had I.
Saying I was Rhys’s cousin was the easiest cover story. No one would blink at me being there or staying with him.
Hell, even if we said I was a new employee and then faked our hookup, that would be more believable than the known bachelor suddenly havingandemploying a heretofore unknown girlfriend.
He just complicated an already messy mission.
I offered her a small shrug before restocking the lemon slices Kodie had dropped off without a single word to me. He certainly didn’t offer any pilfered bacon like I’d hoped.
It added to my annoyance with Rhys.
Unfortunately, there was no time for me to voice that annoyance because as soon as the doors opened, the place was slammed. Like how the full staff had shown up, so had the customers. Some just wanted the gossip, but most wanted to show their support to Rhys and Rye.
Harlow and I—along with a career bartender named Chuck—worked well together. They discreetly stepped in when I inevitably dropped the ball, but neither made a big deal of it.
Or any deal of it.
I turned to grab a bottle of Jack off the shelf only to crash into someone.
