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“Marley.” My name on his lips is almost mystical. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard him say it. Most of them in the last week.
“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
“What can I do?” he asks. From the look on his face, he’s just as shocked at his question as I am.
“Nothing. I’ll be right back with your salads,” I say when I spy Cameron headed our way. I make eye contact with Ackley at the other end of the bar and point toward the kitchen. She nods in understanding, and I walk as normally as I can until I’m out of view. In the hallway, I rest my back against the wall and take in a deep breath. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why did the feel of his skin against mine feel like the sun on a hot summer’s day? I hate him. Well, maybe hate is too strong of a word. Loathe doesn’t sound as harsh. Am I that starved for a man’s affection? Maybe I need to see if Ackley and I can both get a night off together and hit the town. That has to be it.
Steeling my resolve, feeling better about the situation, I push through the swinging door and grab their salads. Cameron and Eli are in deep conversation when I get back. I don’t say a word to either of them. I place their salads in front of them, grab two sets of rolled silverware from under the bar, and set them next to their salad bowls. Needing something to do, I grab their waters and top them off, removing their now-empty beer glasses and hustling to the sink at the opposite end of the bar.
“Your brother is so hot,” Ackley says. Her voice is low, so only I can hear. “That other one too. Who is he?”
“Eli Morrison.”
“As in Morrison Hotels, Morrison?” she asks, chancing another quick glance their way.
“One and the same,” I confirm.
“Girl, you need to lock that down.” She leans into me, smiling.
“What? No. He’s my brother’s best friend. He and I don’t see eye to eye. He was mean to me, always picking on me when we were kids. Hell, he calls me Bob for fuck’s sake.”
“Well, Bob,” she says with a chuckle, “have you ever heard the saying that there is a thin line between love and hate?”
“Of course I have. I don’t live under a rock, but I’m telling you, there is no thin line. It’s thick, like a boulder.” I shove my hands into the dishwater, hoping that the water will wash away his touch.
“So you’re telling me that if a guy tracks a woman’s every move, if he seduces her with his eyes, that he’s not interested.”
“Well, yeah, I mean, that would be obvious.”
She nods. “I’m glad you’re seeing things my way.” I reach for the hand towel to dry my hands when her hand lands on my shoulders. “You’re not going to believe this. Turn around.” She twists on my shoulders, turning me toward my end of the bar.
“What am I looking for?” I ask, keeping my eyes away from Eli and my brother.
“Your man,” she whispers in my ear.
On their own, my eyes snap to Eli to find him watching me intently. Cameron is talking away as he devours his salad. Eli is eating much slower and nodding here and there, but his eyes, they’re on me.
“What’s happening?” I say more to myself than Ackley.
“Thin line, my friend. A very thin line.”
Ackley releases my shoulders to fill an order for one of the waiters. As for me, my feet feel as though they’re filled with lead. Eli smiles at me, and my heart flutters. Slowly with one foot in front of the other, I make my way to them.
“Your food should be right up,” I tell them.
“Thanks, Mar,” Eli says. My brother nods, his mouth too full to speak.
I check out the rest of the night. I spend as much time on Ackley’s end of the bar as I can. I keep their drinks full and extra napkins on the bar. I go through the motions asking if they need dessert, all while trying to pretend like I didn’t notice the way he was looking at me. Maybe it’s all in my head. I’ve let Ackley get in my head, that and my interview with Morrison hotels tomorrow, that has to be it. That’s the only explanation.
Eli Morrison is not interested in me. That boy is trouble.
Chapter 5
Eli
“Do you need anything before I head down to HR for this afternoon’s interviews?” Jane asks from my doorway.
I glance up, just for a second, before returning my gaze down to the contract in front of me. It’s been a hell of a Thursday, and I’m neck-deep in a renewal contract with our linen company. I’m working them hard for a solid five percent discount over the board, with the promise of increasing our annual order three to four percent in the first year. They’re playing hardball, but that’s fine.
