AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watch as JD puts a hand on Amy’s lower back and guides her to the winding staircase. The bartender comes over and takes Amy’s glass.
“My sweater really that ugly?” I ask him.
He only smiles in return. I take off the sweater.
“That is better,” he says in a tone so encouraging, I can’t be upset at him for anything.
“The top actually belongs to my friend,” I say. “I don’t think I own anything swank enough for this place. Still, it was really rude of that guy to come up to me and say what he did.”
“I heard. The boss thought it was Ronald pulling a prank.”
I blink several times. “The boss?”
“Darren Lee. The club owner.”
“I threw Coke at the club owner?” I ask.
The bartender smiles. “You sure did.”
“He’s not by chance related to JD Lee, is he?”
“They’re cousins.”
I drop my forehead to the bar. I can’t believe this. My first time throwing a drink in someone’s face and it turns out to be JD’s cousin and the owner of the club? I’m getting thrown out for sure once the bouncers are done with whatever they’re doing.
I thump my forehead against the top of the bar a few times. Maybe I’ve fallen asleep working on statistics and this is just a bad dream. I remain with my forehead pressed against the cool, smooth surface and release a breath.
“How does the bar look from there?”
I bolt upright because it’s not the bartender speaking.
It’s him.
Damn. He is super-hot. Which I had actually noticed the first time, but that all went away when he’d started talking. Even though part of me still feels like he deserved a Coke in the face, I start to apologize, only the words aren’t coming out. Something about the way he’s looking at me has me frozen.
“It…looks…fine,” I answer. God, could I sound any stupider?
He looks amazing in his vest and jacket, like some haute couture model. It’s obvious his fashion sense is superior to mine, but that still doesn’t give him the right to be mean.
“I’m sorry I threw my drink in your face,” I finally manage.
He doesn’t respond right away and narrows his eyes. “Not really.”
“What?”
“You’re not really sorry.”
In disbelief, I suck in my breath. “I’m not sorry?”
“Not really.”
This guy was too much. “First you tell me I look bad, and now you’re calling me a liar?”
“I didn’t call you a liar. I just don’t think your apology is all that sincere.”
“You should appreciate that I said anything at all!” I blurt. My hand tightens around my glass of soda.
“So you admit you’re not really sorry.”
