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“Fine.”
“That’s it? Fine?”
She was giving him one of her famous heart-stopping glances from beneath unnaturally long lashes, and by doing so, caught Daniel’s breath. But for Sonya, he knew, it was simply a game. He held her gaze without smiling. Then at last he blinked and offered her his best attempt at a friendly grin, hating himself for not being able to be annoyed for long.
“You look good.”
She grinned in response. “Wish me luck?”
He paused, staring down at her face. She looked so eager, so hopeful. He felt a pull in his chest and knew he didn’t have the heart to tell her he thought she could do better. Deserved better. Both in career choices and in men.
Instead, “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She beamed, then scurried down the corridor. “I’ll stop in after the interview.”
“Fine.”
“If it’s not too late, that is.” She accompanied this seductive implication with a giggle, which trailed behind her echoing down the hallway.
Daniel’s smile made a disappearing act right before he did. The slamming of his apartment door followed the echo of her giggle along the apartment corridor. This was what he deserved for falling for a woman who thought his worth lay only in his ability to choose what color of dress to wear. Why couldn’t he meet someone sweet and passionate and totally devoted to him? Why the hell had fate placed Sonya Elliott across the hall from him?
Chapter 2
Twenty minutes later Sonya entered the banquet room in Tristan Manning’s bar. It was unusually quiet from music and patrons. The only occupant was someone sweeping the polished floors. It was a fair size lounge with fifty or more tables and chairs, with a huge bar that ran the length of the side wall. Flanking the rear of the tavern was a half-moon stage overlooking the seats.
For a moment, she allowed her mind to drift, seeing herself center stage and belting out the lyrics to a song. The band would play in superb harmony, her vocals electrifying the audience. She could feel their love. She was alive and on fire and there was nothing in the world more fulfilling.
A door behind the bar opened and Tristan Manning exited. As if in slow motion, he approached her with the most alluring stride and the sexiest smile for a greeting. Her toes curled in reflex as she watched him come closer. He was so damn good-looking. With eyes as deep blue as the ocean, and hair the color of spun gold. And a build so perfectly sculptured at a little over six feet tall. Sonya moaned inwardly and thought creation spared no expense on this man.
As he drew near, his eyes leisurely dropped from her face to drift down the length of her body. A rush of heat followed as his baby-blues returned ever so slowly upward, past her scantily covered breasts pressing hard against the thin material covering them in her obvious aroused state.
His sensual smile remained transfixed on her lips, while his eyes at last lifted to hers. Holding out his hand, he said in a low and husky voice, “Thank you for coming, Sondra.”
Her own smile wavered but she slid her hand into his. “Sonya.”
“Hmm?”
“My name. It’s Sonya, not Sondra.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “My apologies. Never been any good with names.”
Her smile returned fully. “I understand completely. What with your kind of business—”
“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the tables.
Nonplused, she sashayed to the nearest table and took her time sliding into one of the chairs, making certain her short skirt hitched up high along her thighs exposing plenty of bare skin.
“I appreciate your coming.” His eyes had a drowsy look to them as if he just finished a long night of lovemaking. “As I explained before, this position should be able to double your income without any problem. I also mentioned tips are a common occurrence in this establishment as well. My clientele are a very generous group. When they come to my bar they are expecting to have a good time and enjoy the view.”
He openly surveyed her appearance. “I pride myself on the looks of my staff. That is an important element to my success. The customers like it. You have the look I aim to achieve.”
She fluttered her lashes and leaned ever so noticeably toward him, hoping her cleavage was evident as she spread a warm and seductive smile across her lips. “Thank you Tristan. That is terribly sweet—”
“Since we are a bar, however, some of the clientele can get out of hand,” he said, not appearing to notice his bad habit of interrupting her. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Uh.” She blinked and sat up straight, feeling a bit thrown off balance. “No, of course not.”
“Good. Now, do you have any questions?”
