by Staci Hart
But it was his eyes, dark and shrouded, that held everything in me still, commanding me without the need for a single word.
A tug of my hand snapped the connection.
Will smiled at me as if he’d asked me something.
“What was that?” I muttered.
“Can I get you a drink?”
I smiled back. “Just water, thank you.”
He patted my hand before letting it go. “I’ll be back.”
I chanced a look back at Greg. He hadn’t moved, but somehow, everything about him was harder, more insistent, more desperate.
Elle took my arm. “Where do you have to be?”
I glanced around, finding the table a little in from the bar. “Right over here. I’m running the register on the Book and Booze special all night. Think you’ll be all right?”
“I’m sure I can manage,” she answered with a smile.
And when I scanned the crowd and saw Ward, I smiled back. “I bet you can. Look.”
I nodded in his direction, and she gasped.
“Annie, oh my God.” Her voice was low and frantic. “What did you do?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I didn’t tell you I invited him? Hmm, I swear I mentioned it.”
“No, you most certainly did not mention it.”
“I just figured he’s single too. I mean, technically, it is singles’ night.”
Her blush was so furiously pretty, I could barely stand it, and neither could Ward, it seemed. He waved and began making his way over.
Her arm tightened in mine, her voice low. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
“What is the matter with you? He’s a friend, isn’t he?”
She leveled me with her gaze. “He is my boss.”
I shrugged again. “You’re not allowed to talk to your boss outside of work?”
“No, it’s not that. I just—” She froze, her eyes darting away.
“Good evening, ladies.” Ward’s voice was deep and velvety, his smile a little crooked as he bowed. He wore a lovely Regency suit, perfectly accurate, even down to the cravat.
Really, it was the most brilliant dream realized—a room full of masculine necktie porn.
“That costume is perfect, Ward. Where did you get it?” I asked.
“My mother knows of a rental place she’s used for parties before. Thanks for the invitation by the way. This is spectacular,” he said, glancing around.
It really was. Cam had gone a little extra, stringing hanging lights covered by small paper lanterns across the open space. Candelabras dotted the room on available surfaces, lit with electric candles. She’d even had dance cards made, which were sitting on the table where I was supposed to already be.
“Well, I need to go clock in and get to work. Ward, will you keep my sister company for me? I’d hate for her to stand here in that dress all alone.”
His smile widened. “Oh, I don’t think such a thing could ever happen, especially not in a dress like this.”
She blushed so hard, I thought she might faint from a rush of blood to her head.
I laughed. “I’ll be back in a bit. Have fun!” I called as I headed to the back.
Greg’s eyes were on me—I could feel them like a tether—but I kept my chin up and my feet moving, clocking in once in the office and collecting the iPad and credit card reader before making my way back out.
The table at the front was marked with little signs, dance cards, name tags, that sort of thing. Jett sat after, looking dapper as hell and as natural as an Austen hero. His hair was raven, his eyes the color of cornflower, rich and velvety blue, shoulders wide and nose elegant. He was checking IDs and issuing wristbands, taking down drink and book combinations for the Books and Booze deal. Ruby was in charge of pulling the books and drinks once they were purchased, and I was set to take orders from suitors and ladies alike.
Will was at my elbow a moment after I sat down, and he set a tall glass next to me.
“Thank you,” I said and took a sip, nearly choking when it hit the back of my throat. I looked at the glass as if it contained poison. “This is not water.”
He bent to bring his lips to my ear. “It’s vodka and water.”
Panic rose in my chest. “I can’t drink this!” I hissed. “I’ve never—”
“I know,” he soothed. “Another first. And here’s to many more.”
He clinked his own rocks glass to mine and took a sip. I didn’t.
“Will, I’m working. This is wrong.”
At that, he knelt next to my chair, putting him just below my eye-level, his gaze turned up to mine, handsome and persuasive. “It’s just one drink, and it’s a tall. No one will know, and you won’t get drunk. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”
I didn’t want to be a baby, and I didn’t want to tell him no. I wanted to be the cool girl, the easygoing, anything-goes girl. And I didn’t want to fight with Will anymore.
So I sighed and said something I would later come to regret very deeply.
“All right. Just one.”
19
Anywhere But Here
Greg
For some reason, I kept expecting things to get easier.
I wasn’t exactly sure why—they’d been on a steady decline for several days, longer, if I were being honest with myself. And over the course of three hours, they kept speeding downhill.
Seeing Annie walk through the door left me first breathless, then seething. The sight of her at the table in my line of vision was the sweetest torture; sweet because it was her, and she was dazzling in that dress, torture because the smile she wore had nothing to do with me. It was for the bastard at her elbow. And he didn’t leave her side for any longer than he had to.
I wouldn’t have either, had I been him.
The night moved on as time did, with no care for the ache in my chest or the anger buried in its center. It was nearing eleven, the bar packed to the seams with people in costumes. They had really shown up for the occasion, most of them dressed in stunning gowns and finery. Of course, Cam threw a couple of legendary regency costume parties—among a host of other costume parties and singles’ nights—every year, so people committed to springing for the good stuff.
I’d bought my own costume, as had most everyone at the bookstore. Before the first historical party, Cam had even given cravat-tying lessons. I’d laughed about it at the time, but—no lie—once I had seen how the girls at the bar reacted to that strip of linen around my neck, I’d found myself fully on board.
Cam had only said I told you so once.
But that night, Annie was set apart from everyone else in the room. I could imagine her in a ballroom long ago, her face lit by candlelight, her gloved hand in the hook of my elbow.
I could imagine her anywhere but here, with him. That reality was the one thing I couldn’t find a way to suffer.
Fortunately, we were busy, and keeping a wall of people between us seemed to be my only defense. I was flanked by Beau and Harrison, each in their own costumes, the three of us like veritable gentlemen, if it weren’t for our filthy mouths. Though we always found ourselves speaking a little more eloquently in cravats and collars.
I tossed a coaster down, offering my bartender smile as one customer moved, and another stepped forward. But the smile spread genuinely when I saw that it was Elle.
“Good evening, Miss Daschle,” I said. “Might I offer you something to drink?”
She laughed. “Thanks, but no. I was actually about to leave, but I wanted to swing by to see you first.” Her face grew curious and sincere. “How are you?”
I drew in a breath and kept my smile fixed. “Fine.”
“Because Annie isn’t.”
“Are you sure of that? She seems like she’s doing just great.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving. She told me what happened.”
With nothing left to deny, I gave up the fight. “I don’t know, Elle. I’m not sure what to do.”
“You’re angry with her, I know, but�
�”
“I’m not angry. Not with her. I’m hurt, but not by her. The entire thing is my own doing.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t much either.” I sighed. “Annie didn’t do anything wrong, and it’s not her fault she’s ended up in the position she’s in. I knew better than to get close to her, but…well, I couldn’t help myself. You know, I think I knew from the very first moment I saw her that it would all end in tears,” I said with futility. “And now, she’s with him, and that’s what it is.”
Elle’s eyes were heavy with sadness that weighed down the corners of her lips in a frown. “You won’t talk to her at all?”
I shook my head. “I can’t trust I’ll keep my feelings to myself anymore. Not now that she knows. I can’t pretend anymore, Elle.”
At that, she nodded with understanding behind her eyes and reached for my hand where it rested on the bar. “I suppose that’s fair. And I hope it gets easier, Greg. For both of you.”
“So do I.”
We said our goodbyes, and with a parting squeeze of my hand, she turned and walked away.
I blew out a breath and took the next drink order, and within a couple of customers, I had compartmentalized as best I could.
Until I tossed a coaster that read All is fair in love and war and looked up to find Will in front of me.
He looked ridiculous in a fucking top hat, his smile smug and eyes cruel. And I wondered just how the hell he’d landed a girl like Annie.
I reminded myself that he was a spectacular liar—that was how—which didn’t make me feel better.
“Tall Grey Goose and water,” he instructed curtly.
I said nothing, just reached for a glass and scooped ice in.
He half-turned, looking back at Annie. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
I set the glass on the bar and turned for the vodka.
“That dress was practically made for her. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll see it in a heap on my floor tonight.”
Hot coals burned in my belly, the steam climbing up my throat. I poured the vodka. “Maybe, if you keep talking, I’ll see you in a heap on the sidewalk.”
Will laughed. “I told you not to get in my way. I told you not to give me a reason to twist the knife. But you didn’t listen. Can’t say I’m all that surprised.” He picked up the coaster and held it up in display. “How appropriate.”
I picked up the soda gun with a hand shaking with desire to grab him by the throat, unfulfilled with the task of topping the glass off with water.
Will Bailey was not worth losing my job over.
“She made her choice,” he said when I didn’t respond.
“Yes, she did.” I set the drink in front of him.
“Put it on my tab.” He picked up the drink before stepping back, that horrible smile of his hitting me like a spear in the breastbone.
He disappeared, and the next person moved into his place to order a drink, so I accommodated them, all while attempting to calm myself down with little luck.
What I needed was to leave, but there was nowhere to go. I was caught in a cage of mahogany and overhead lights, a spotlight on my discomfort, lighting me up for the whole world to see.
A moment later, the crowd opened up, and I saw Annie sitting at the table, her lips smiling at Will and her gloved hand around her drink.
The drink I’d just poured.
The nuclear explosion that went off between my ears was deafening.
I turned on my heel and flew out from behind the bar, weaving through the crowd toward her, stopping only once I reached the table.
Shock registered on her face when I snatched the drink from her hands and smelled it.
I turned on Will. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I growled, slamming the drink back on the table as I stepped around it and toward him.
He took a step back, the superior look on his face washed out, leaving him stupefied.
“Get out,” I said through my teeth. “Get the fuck out of my bar.”
Annie hooked her arms in one of mine and pulled, “Greg, stop!”
I whirled around, arching over her.
She shrank under the weight.
“Don’t,” I ground out from behind clenched teeth. “Do not.”
“Listen—” Will started.
I whirled back on him. “You gave a drink to an underage girl in my bar. I don’t have to listen to a goddamn word you have to say. Get the fuck out. Now!”
He jumped at the impact of the last word and glanced at Annie, reaching for her hand.
When she moved to step around me, I moved with her, keeping my body between them.
“She is not going with you.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” she shot.
I turned, pinning her with a glare I felt into the depths of my chest. “You are on the clock. And if you leave with him, you’re fired.”
Color rose in her cheeks, her eyes shining with angry tears. “Oh, so now you want to be my boss?”
I didn’t respond, only held her still with my glare.
“Goddamn it, Greg,” she whispered but didn’t move to follow.
“Let her go,” Will said, his shoulders square.
“No.”
His eyes darted to her. “Come on, Annie.” He extended his hand.
“I’ll call you later,” she said miserably.
Fury flashed across his face. “If you stay here with him, we’re through. You don’t need this fucking bullshit minimum-wage job anyway.”
“Watch it, asshole,” I warned.
“You’re both assholes!” she shouted, tears clinging to her lashes. “Screw both of you, and screw your ultimatums.”
“Annie—” he started, but she cut him off.
“If that’s how you feel, then go. I’m through with this, through with you. Through with your jealousy and through with the arguing. I’m through.”
She took a furious breath that shuddered in her chest, a sob fueled by betrayal and hurt, a sob that sent a flash of rage through me, tightening my fists at my sides.
“Get out of here, Bailey. Because if I put my hands on you to make you, I swear to God, I won’t be able to stop.”
Will stood very still, his eyes on her, then me, then her again, as if weighing his options. When he came to his senses, it was with a tug on the hem of his vest and the straightening of his back.
“Your loss,” he said, his cold eyes on Annie.
“Do not show your face here again. If you walk through those doors, I will have you thrown out. Do you hear me?”
After a long, strained stare, he nodded once and turned.
The only people who had heard were those adjacent to us, and the party went on undisturbed but for our little island of blame.
When I turned to her, tears spilled from her accusing eyes.
“I cannot believe that just happened,” she spat. “I cannot believe you just did that.”
Every muscle in my body was flexed and furious. “You can’t believe? Do you realize we could lose our liquor license? Did you happen to forget you were on the clock and working? I should fire you on the spot.”
“Well then, why don’t you?” she cried, her voice full of contempt.
“You and I both know why.”
I turned to walk away, and she didn’t say a word more.
The rest of the night was a blur. Somehow, I managed to get back behind the bar and spent the next few hours in a haze marked by automatic movements—smile, pour, nod. And then it was last call, and the night wound down.
The crowd thinned, then emptied, leaving only the employees. Ruby bussed her tables while Jett and Annie cleaned up their things, running the box of name tags and dance cards and tablecloths back. We were breaking down the bar when Annie appeared in front of me, the bartop between us.
“I’m finished,” she said quietly but not gently.
I didn’t look at her. “Good. Clock out and sit down.”
She to
ok a breath through her nose, the sound frustrated. “I would like to leave, please.”
“You will sit and wait for me to finish. We have things to discuss, and when that’s done, I’ll put you in a cab.”
“I am not a child!”
“Then stop acting like one.”
I looked up when she made another sound, this one somewhere between a gasp and a sob. The hurt on her face was nearly the end of me. Because that hurt written in the soft curves of her cheeks, the brackets on either side of her lips and the furrow between her brows told me she felt every bit the child I’d accused her of being.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I stormed out from behind the bar with Beau and Harrison watching me, exchanging glances when I rounded the corner. The second Annie was in grabbing distance, I did just that, hooking her upper arm with my hand to drag her into the back.
What I had to say didn’t need an audience.
I let her go once we were in the depths of the store, my chest heaving as I looked down at her. “I cannot fucking believe you did that. I cannot believe you put me in that position.”
“It was just a drink!”
“Jesus Christ, Annie. One drink could cost Rose tens of thousands of dollars in fines and the store’s license. And you don’t even drink! This was his doing, not yours. And don’t you dare lie and tell me that was your idea.”
More tears. So many tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I just didn’t think it would be a big deal. He said no one would know, and I’d never had a drink, and—”
“This isn’t you. None of this is you. It reeks of that son of a bitch.”
“Greg, you banned him from the bar, and you kept me here, held me hostage when you should have let me go. It wasn’t right, how you handled things. It wasn’t,” she said, angry sobs hiccuping in her chest.
And my own anger won over, bursting out of me in waves. “This is my bar, and I don’t want him here, not after tonight. You’ll do what I say because you are my employee. You’ll follow my rules because I am your boss.”
Her sadness shifted to furious accusation. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Because I don’t think this is about him so much as it’s about you.”
My breath kicked out of my lungs. “That is not what this is about.”
