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But even that hadn’t been enough. Every time I managed to refocus my attention on the screen in front of me, an image of her flashed in front of my eyes. The way she tilted her head slightly when I said something interesting. How she’d take a breath and freeze a little anytime things got a little sexual innuendo-ish…
My mind was in the gutter—had been the whole time she was seated across from me—but I would have assumed hers wouldn’t be. I managed to keep my gutter mind in check. She, on the other hand, seemed to be in a constant state of panic every time something the slightest bit flirty came up.
So here I was, in a booth at Whiskey Dick Bar. Yes, that was the name of the place. It was at the bottom of the building where Harley’s dad’s office was. That put it just down the street from my office. And yes, a part of me had come here with the asinine hope that I might accidentally run into her.
“Can I get you anything else?” Chelsia, the only server usually working, asked.
She had a bad habit of flirting with me, despite the fact that I worked hard to give off a “leave me the hell alone” vibe everywhere I went. She flirted with every decent-looking dude who came through those doors.
As she asked the question, she leaned over slightly, putting her cleavage on full display. Normally, I’d take a glance and save it for later when I was alone in my condo. But I needed no inspiration today.
All it did was make me wonder what Harley’s tits looked like without that stuffy blouse and blazer covering them. She hadn’t even donated a hint of cleavage to the spank bank.
“Just the check,” I said. “And another one of these.”
I hadn’t planned to order another drink, but I didn’t want to go home. Not yet. For the first time ever, I was aware of just how empty my life was.
“Sure,” Chelsia said, tossing me another smile.
She turned around and headed back to the bar. A nearby table full of guys stopped talking to watch her pass. They waited until she was behind the bar to resume their conversation.
I was still rolling my eyes over that when the door opened, bells above it announcing the arrival of a new customer. A group of them, it turned out. I glanced over my shoulder briefly before turning my attention back to emptying the contents of my glass.
As I set it down on the table and rested my head on the back of the booth, three women in matching puffer coats breezed by. These women weren’t as stick-thin as the server, so they didn’t seem to capture their attention the same way. But one of the women immediately captured mine. She had long blonde hair, identical to the woman who’d been on my mind all day. In fact, that red skirt matched too, as did the determined walk. She looked at something to her left, giving me a glimpse of her profile.
It was her. It was Harley Baxter. Holy shit. She’d walked into the bar just as I had hoped.
Now what?
Chelsia showed up just as I figured out what to do. She set my drink down and stepped back, tilting her head.
“What’s up with you all of a sudden? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A ghost probably would have been less surprising than Harley showing up at the very place I’d chosen, hoping to see her again. Like a stalker.
“I want to buy a round of drinks for those women.” I pointed toward the booth on the other side of the bar where the three women were taking a seat. “Tell them it’s from me.”
“Will do.”
Chelsia took off, leaving me with nothing to do but stare at the back of Harley Baxter’s profile. Her two friends were seated across from her, listening to her talk. After watching her for several seconds, I realized she was upset.
Was it over the job? Was she torn between loyalty to her father and doing what was right for her career? It bothered me more than I realized, thinking she might be upset.
What was going on here? How had this woman managed to take over all my senses so completely in just one half-hour meeting at a coffee shop?
I sipped my drink as Chelsia made her way over to the women’s table. The server carried a tray with three drinks, and I realized I hadn’t specified what to send over to them. They were martini glasses, each with a cranberry-colored liquid inside. Had Chelsia known the women’s drink preferences? Were they regulars here?
As the server walked away, all three women looked in my direction. I gave a nod but kept my gaze solidly on Harley. My heart was pounding so hard, I had to take a deep breath to try to calm it. This woman definitely had me ramped up.
I stared down at my glass for a long moment, trying to look like I was here for a reason. Finally, for something to do, I picked up my phone and began fumbling around on the screen. There were a few emails that needed my attention, and I opened one, but the words may as well have been in an unfamiliar language.
And then I saw movement. A figure was approaching the table. I held my breath, lifting my gaze and making eye contact with Harley. She was holding the martini glass.
She looked down at the empty booth across from me and nodded. “Mind if I sit?”
I nodded, but then I wasn’t sure if she’d interpret that as a yes or no, so I said, “Of course.” That didn’t help. “Please, have a seat.”
There. That was definitive. But it sounded a little formal.
