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She hesitated for only a mere second. “About your live performances—?”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Glad you brought that up. The stage is strictly prohibited from anyone other than the house band. The number of requests we receive to perform is astronomical. You wouldn’t believe how many wannabes are out there. Christ, they must think I’m some sort of amateur karaoke bar.”
“Right.” Discouraged, she nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“So, if you want the job it’s yours.” He surprised her by saying. “When can you start?”
“Umm.” Sweeping the bleak cobwebs from her head, she responded, “I’ll have to give my present employer two weeks—”
He quickly shook his head. “That won’t do. I need a new girl a-s-a-p. Business is booming and we’re already short staffed.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll give my notice and finish out tomorrow’s shift.” Biting her lip, she thought out loud, “I’ll have to find someone to cover my hours for the next few days—”
“Great. Whatever it takes.” He stood up and waited for her to follow. “Come around on Thursday at three o’clock. I’ll have Audrey show you the ropes. That should give you plenty of time before the Friday night rush.”
“Audrey?”
“My number one barmaid.”
“Right.”
“Oh, one more thing.” He began to walk away, but paused in mid-step. “Dress code. Your attire factors greatly along with your personal good looks. Skirts above the knees only. Tight shirts with a bit of cleavage or something similar to what you’re wearing are also acceptable.”
She automatically glanced down, pleased he approved of her clothes. However, before she could respond he gave her a departing wink and disappeared behind the door he had earlier exited.
Sonya inhaled a deep sigh of delight and smiled happily to herself. That wasn’t so difficult. She had snared the job. Getting the actual man was next. With a little bit of provocative insinuation, she was certain he wouldn’t be too far behind.
Glancing at the empty stage, her spirits sagged slightly. It was her dream, her aspirations; there had never been anything she wanted more in life. If it took all she had, she would achieve it. Even if it meant sleeping with the boss.
A giggle escaped her lips and caught the attention of the man sweeping the floor. She gave him a quick smile then slipped out of the bar. The thought wasn’t so ridiculous or shallow as it sounded. As a matter-of-fact, it sounded kind of fun.
* * *
A swift melodic tapping on his door later that night had Daniel pause his program to get up and answer it. He didn’t appreciate the interruption but did so anyway knowing Sonya was the owner of the musical rap. Though it was after supper, it was earlier then she warned.
He peered through the peephole and saw her carrying a bottle of wine and rocking merrily on her heels. He sighed and thought he really ought to consider moving. She was more torture than she was peace. Pressing his forehead against the closed door, he willed his equilibrium into place.
“Dan-iel?” Her gay voice danced through from the opposite side. “Are you in there?”
He opene
d his eyes. Then taking a deep breath, pushed himself away from the door and opened it. She grinned from the other side of the threshold and his gut did an adolescent flip.
“I got the job.”
“I figured as much.” He eyed the bottle of wine she was clutching.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Her smile spread from ear to ear and there was no disguising her happiness. “Or invite me in?”
He hesitated, nudging his glasses over the bridge of his nose, then finally gave a short nod and pushed the door wider. She was oblivious to any indifference he may have had as she flounced into his apartment. With a little skip to her walk, she headed directly for the living room and dropped blissfully onto his leather couch.
Sonya ran a hand over the rich material of the sofa, having always admired it, and promised someday when she had the money, she would buy one similar.
She looked up at Daniel standing near the room’s entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, his face unsmiling. Somebody was a sourpuss. Well it wasn’t her and she wouldn’t let him bring her down.
“Are we going to drink from glasses or swig it right out of the bottle?”
Without replying he simply gave her a look from under his brow then sauntered into the kitchen. Feeling too delirious to sit for long, she jumped to her feet and followed him. As he began opening cupboard doors, she pulled out his utility drawer and searched out a bottle opener.
