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“Show me, please,” he begged.

God, I wanted to give in. This was torture. But, if I gave in, there would be a price to pay. One Theo could never afford.

He glanced down and took my left hand in his, staring intently at the ring perched on my trembling finger.

“Theo.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He took two steps back, readjusting himself, as his other hand skated through his long, tousled hair.

“Theo, wait.” I jumped off the wood desk and sprang forward, needing to give him something. Anything that would make me feel less vile. “Please, listen to me. I didn’t know he was your brother. I didn’t know any of it.”

“I thought we were starting something. I thought you liked me.” He clasped his hands behind his neck, then dropped them. “What happened? He showed up and offered you a better lifestyle?”

Tears blurred my vision. It hurt he thought I would be so shallow. How could I blame him, though? I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” Silence stretched between us. He looked so vulnerable standing there. Maybe I should tell him, and we could figure something out together? No, the risk was too great. I raised my head, my eyes going blank, and pictured Dex in front of me. It was the only way to mask the emotions. “I love Dex, and we’re getting married.” If he believed me, I deserved an Academy Award. My stone cold expression was held tight by a thin veil of hope I was doing the right thing.

“Why him?” He slammed a hand against the wall closest to him, and my dream came back to me. He would never love me now. I needed to hold onto this truth and force him away to save him.

“Because, I love him.” I clung to the keys in my hand, the turtle keychain pressing into my skin as I brushed past him.

“I don’t fucking believe you,” he yelled when I reached halfway down the hall. “Get the interviews scheduled so I can get the fuck out of here.”

***

The next day when I arrived at the bar, Theo had already scheduled interviews.

I let him know that morning, when he texted me to come in early, I didn’t care for any of the applicants. But, he overruled my decision, stating he didn’t want to be here longer than need be. He remained adamant on hiring new bartenders immediately.

Livid couldn’t begin to describe me when I walked through the front doors of Lopa and saw the dozen or so applicants lined along the bar. Actually, panic, might have been a better description. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

Theo, holding his precious damn clipboard in his hand, nodded his head toward me. I stalked over to him.

“None of these people are qualified,” I whisper-yelled to him. They were but they weren’t qualified to take Theo’s place.

He brushed off my dismissal of them. “Yeah, well, anyone who gets engaged to Dex isn’t exactly the best judge of people.”

He had a point, I guess. “Who’s first?” I snapped. No way would I be hiring any of these candidates, but I’d let him believe he ran the show.

“Follow me,” he said, leading me to his makeshift interview area. A small table, with three chairs seated around it, had been set up near the back deck. He called over a Tracey Landmer, and I took a seat and watched a bubbly, short red head bounce her way over to the table. I hated her already.

Theo appeared impressed, judging by the wide grin on his face. Probably because of the fake tits she proudly displayed behind her sheer blouse.

She took a hot minute to sit down before ever so slowly crossing her legs, all the while keeping her eyes trained on Theo. So unprofessional.

“So, Tracey is it? Tell me a bit about yourself,” I said, interrupting her in the middle of her little tease show. I picked up a pen, tapping it on the table.

She inhaled and then smiled. “Well, I’m from Florida, near Orlando. I was a cheerleader. I moved here after school.” A cheerleader? Who cares? Theo smiled, like he actually hung on her every word. Was I the only one listening?

“Cheerleaders are great,” he smirked.

I gave him a tight smile. “Yes, but we aren’t kicking home runs. We’re serving alcohol.”

Theo laughed. “Field goals.” He looked back at Tracey. “Go on, please. She’s clearly not a sports fan like you and I are.”

“Well, I’ve worked in the restaurant industry for about seven years, and I love to bartend.”

She smiled, toothy and confident, after she finished. I wasn’t impressed.

“Ok, that’s great, Tracey. Why do you want to work here at Lopa?” Theo asked.

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