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If not for that phone call, she and I could have had a strictly professional relationship, but I obliterated that line within the first thirty seconds of meeting her.
If I’d known who she was, it wouldn’t have happened. Why was she never with Maeve when I worked with her?
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I watched from my dim corner as she entered the bar, her eyes wide and bright as she quickly scanned the interior.
“Hello,” the bartender called out. “What can I help you with?”
She gifted him with one of her easy smiles.
I groaned internally knowing what that did to a man. I wondered where her room was. I didn’t want to see her with anybody. I shook my head.
She was a grown woman. With grown woman needs.
My back teeth ground together violently, sending a shooting pain up the side of my jaw. I rolled my neck and forced my jaw to relax.
“Hi,” she brightened. “I’m looking for dinner. Can I order food from here?”
A moment passed. “You’ve missed it by fifteen minutes but I’m going to make sure we make an exception for you.”
She straightened and beamed at him. “Thank you!” Pressing her palms up in front of her, she continued, “I promise. I’ll order quickly.” She laughed and rubbed her belly. “And I’ll eat even faster.”
His rumbling laughter joined hers. “No worries.”
He walked out from behind the bar, a glass of ice water in one hand, a menu in the other.
That was not the treatment I received when I walked in half an hour ago. I waited until she ordered, then picked up my drink and walked over.
“Is this seat taken?”
The bartender arrived right on cue; his greedy eyes fixed on Hope. “Feel free to sit at the bar if you prefer.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “I’m good here. Especially now that my friend is here.”
Friend.
Was that what we were? Why was I even sitting here?
His thick finger wagged back and forth between us. “You know each other?”
“Yes,” Hope replied with a smile. “We work together.”
His entire countenance relaxed until he met my ‘over-my-dead-fucking-body’ glare.
Smiling wryly, he turned back to Hope. “Let me know if you need anything.” Then wisely returned to his station behind the bar.
“The staff here is excellent!” she exclaimed as I sat down.
I rolled my eyes.
“What?” She leaned toward me. “You don’t think so?”
“I think,” I began slowly, gauging her expressive face for possible interest in the bartender, “he was especially interested in being excellent to you.”
She touched her delicate fingers to her chest. “Me?”
I swallowed hard as I fought the urge to drop my gaze. “You. Why so surprised?”
She gestured toward the door. “There are fourteen gorgeous models in the lobby. All of which spent at least part of the evening in here.”
