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“Perfect.” He grins, bestowing on me that dazzling, slightly mischievous grin that could probably melt glaciers faster than climate change. “How about dinner at my house?”
My brain does a quick, anxious flip. Alone at his house. Swallowing, I throw caution to the wind. “Dinner sounds great,” I say, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush moving across my face.
“Great!” Sullivan replies, looking genuinely happy and a little relieved at my agreement. “I’ll pick you up around seven if that works?”
“I can do seven, but I’ll drive myself to your house.” My older sister would kick my rear end if I let a guy I just met pick me up. Even if he’s a billionaire. I can hear her safety-first speech echoing through my mind.
He opens his mouth and closes it before taking a deep breath and agreeing. “If you insist on driving, I’ll give you my address.” He takes my phone from me and types his address in my notes app.
With our plans set, he leans over the bar to give me a quick, panty-melting kiss before leaving. After he walks out, the air seems to lose some of its spark. But there’s an indelible excitement left behind, reminding me that this is good, right? I mean, it’s only my freaking heart and soul at risk. No big deal at all.
I return to my bar duties with a new kind of energy, popping caps off bottles and slinging jokes to patrons with ease. But as I’m mentally running through my wardrobe options for tomorrow night, out comes Tony, lumbering from his office with a look of concern visibly written on his face.
“Romi,” he leans close so no one else can hear our conversation, “is Sullivan Midnight bothering you?”
Tony’s a big bear of a man, and his concern for his staff is unmatched. He might come across as gruff, but he once gave me the day off when my landlady’s cat got stuck in a tree, so I’ve got a soft spot for the guy. His usual scruffy demeanor is earnest, and I know he’d sooner run through a fire than let anyone mess around with his crew.
“Sullivan?” I laugh, wiping the bar for the millionth time, just to keep busy. “Not at all. He came in to invite me to dinner.”
“And did you agree?” Tony echoes, one eyebrow raising in a classic, skeptical style that only he can pull off.
“I did.” I can’t believe I’m discussing my love life with my grumpy ex-mob captain boss. “I’m looking forward to it.” I give him the slimmed-down version, leaving out the part where I jumped Sullivan’s bones in the back stockroom.
Tony studies me like he’s checking to see if I’m spinning tales or genuinely okay. “I’m glad to hear it. I want you to come to me if you have any problems.”
“Thank you.” I smile up at him, thanking my lucky stars I found such a wonderful boss.
“You’re welcome.” Tony nods, throwing an exaggerated watchful glance over the assembled patrons.
Tony heads back to his office while I pull myself together, getting ready to deal with God knows what once the bar gets hopping.
