by Rachel Lacey
“Okay.”
She paused in the doorway to look back at Josie, wanting to feel that zap in the pit of her stomach again before she left. Their eye contact was electric every single time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
She went up the stairs to Josie’s apartment to retrieve the box of kittens. It was almost time to feed them, but to sit here in Josie’s living room this late at night felt entirely too intimate. They could wait until she got home. She requested an Uber because there was no way her back would tolerate hauling this box across town on the subway.
And speaking of her back, she swapped her heels for the simple black flats she kept in her briefcase. Then she picked up the box and carried it downstairs to the street. Thirty minutes later, she pushed through the door into her apartment. The black kitten meowed, waving its little head around as it sought its next meal.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. She set the box on her kitchen counter and put a cup of water in the microwave. The whole process was second nature to her at this point. While the water heated, she went down the hall to change into her pajamas.
Exhaustion came crashing over her now that she was home. All she wanted was to fall face-first into bed, although maybe it was best that she couldn’t, because behind the fatigue, something else lurked, something much darker, memories and emotions stirred during the day that waited to haunt her dreams.
She returned to the kitchen and mixed a bottle of formula, setting it in the cup of hot water to warm. The black kitten was still moving around, so she lifted him first. He squinted at her through baby-blue eyes, mewling loudly for his dinner. The sound grated on her nerves, which were already raw from her day at Swanson’s. Quickly, she positioned him and offered him the bottle of formula.
And so she went, feeding the gray one, and then the gray-and-white one. She tended to feed the white one last because she was still the most difficult to wake. Maybe because this feeding was a little bit late, the white kitten woke easily and latched right on to the bottle. Her tiny paws kneaded Eve’s hand as she drank, suckling hungrily at the formula. Eve stroked her with her free hand, tracing her fingers down the kitten’s back. Her fur was impossibly soft and soothing beneath her fingers.
Surely Josie would find someone take them soon. Honestly, Eve couldn’t believe she’d managed to care for them even this long. Five days of bottle feeding and wiping butts. Every moment had been a struggle, but sometimes, in these quiet moments late at night, she felt something warm in her chest while she held one of the kittens in her hands.
If only…
She refused to let her mind finish the thought. Instead, she nestled the white kitten in with the rest, set the alarm on her phone, and headed down the hall to get ready for bed. As tired as she was, she wouldn’t truly be able to rest until the kittens—and Josie’s bar—were safely out of her life.
Josie had underestimated the amount of work that went into an episode of Do Over. Maybe she’d imagined that Eve would show up, give Swanson’s a glamorous makeover while the cameras rolled, and voilà…her bar would be successful again.
In reality, Eve was here at lunchtime again on Wednesday, laptop open on the bar, typing furiously as she asked Josie question after question. Today, she had on a gray knit dress that clung to every inch of her body in a way that made it very hard not to stare. But that was probably just Josie’s hormones talking.
Since her dad died, she hadn’t had much time for dating, which didn’t mean she hadn’t tried. She’d maintained her Tinder profile and tried to go on at least one date a month. But only a handful of those had resulted in second dates, and it had been over a year since she’d made it to a third. It was beyond frustrating. She wanted a woman who made her laugh, someone who would sit up with her at night and help her bottle-feed tiny kittens, someone who made her whole body short-circuit the way it did every time she looked at Eve.
Eve, who never cracked a smile and never failed to begin a conversation by asking if Josie had found a foster home for the kittens yet. Eve, with her perfect hair and makeup, her frosty personality, and that body…
“So?” she said, pinning Josie with an impatient look.
“What?” She gave her head a slight shake. “Sorry.”
Eve sighed. “Jason is currently your only employee?”
“Yes. He tends bar with me on Friday and Saturday nights.” It was embarrassing to admit that she only had one part-time employee, that she was working every single shift. It hadn’t been this way when her father was in charge, and not even for Josie until a few months ago. But when her other full-time bartender quit, she hadn’t been able to justify hiring someone new. It was only temporary, just until business picked up.
“And what do you do if you’re sick?” Eve asked, glancing at her over her laptop.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, reaching for a cloth to wipe down the bar. “I’d try to make it down here anyway, I guess. It hasn’t happened since I took over full-time.”
“It’s not sustainable,” Eve said. “You realize this.”
“I do,” she agreed. “It’s why I asked for your help. I know I’m in trouble.”
“You own the whole building?”
“Yes.” Her grandparents had bought it over forty years ago for a fraction of what a building like this would cost today, and thankfully, her dad had been able to pay the mortgage off before his death.
“And you rent out the apartment on the third floor?”
“Yes.”
“Any work we do for you as part of the show will be paid for, but you’re going to need a plan for success after I’m gone,” Eve said, fingers still clacking over the keys. “I’ll help you strategize, but you’ll probably also need to take out a small business loan or a home equity loan on the building to cover your operating expenses for the first few months while you grow.”
“A loan?” Josie swallowed hard. The only reason she’d been able to make it even this far was that she didn’t have a mortgage to pay each month.
Eve nodded. “Once I present my business plan to you on Friday, I’ll go over my recommendations for keeping the momentum going, areas I think you can improve, and strategies for success.”
“That sounds like a lot more than a TV show.” And a lot more than she was expecting.
“That’s because this is what I do for a living. I want you to be a satisfied client, not just an episode on a television show. And on that note, you’re welcome to utilize my services after filming is complete, if you like. I want you to succeed, just like any other client.”
“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t afford you,” Josie said as she began to stack clean glasses from the dishwasher behind the bar.
“Sometimes you have to spend money to make money,” Eve said.
“That sounds a lot simpler than it is.” And she doubted Eve truly wanted to step foot in this bar again after filming had wrapped, but she appreciated the offer.
“We’ll go over all of that once I’ve got your launch plan ready.”
“Okay.”
Eve got up from the barstool and began to wander around the space, taking photos with her phone and jotting down notes. She disappeared down the hall that led to Josie’s office and the storage room, returning a few minutes later. “What’s behind that locked door at the end of the hall?”
“Rooftop access,” Josie told her.
“Separate from the stairs that lead to the apartments?” Eve asked.
“Yeah. There used to be a rooftop bar, but I had to shut it down because I couldn’t afford another bartender to work up there.”
“You had a rooftop bar, and you shut it down?” Eve’s eyebrows crawled up her forehead.
“It wasn’t as popular as you would think.”
“Show me.”
“Okay.” Josie led the way down the hall, unlocking the door that led to the roof. “Don’t get your hopes up, though.”
She went up first, with Eve walking behind her, heels clicking against the wooden steps
. The stairs doubled back and forth, ending in a black steel door that led onto the rooftop patio. Josie pushed it open and held it for Eve, who walked past her onto the roof.
The space was about half the size of the bar below, divided on the side to hide the HVAC and other mechanical units up here. It had a bare concrete floor, with waist-high walls around the perimeter and a covered bar area against the far wall. Remnants from its former life had been piled everywhere, rusty stools and plastic milk crates filled with trash and covered in bird poop.
Eve walked it end to end, seemingly lost in thought. Josie was embarrassed for even bringing her up here. Once, this space had been nice, but now it was more of an eyesore than a potential source of income.
“It hasn’t been used in years,” she said apologetically.
“I can see that,” Eve responded, walking to the front barrier, where she stood with her arms clasped over her chest, staring out at the city before her. “How would you describe the average clientele before your father passed away?”
“Um, people looking for a drink after work mostly.” She thought of Dougie and Sal as she came to stand beside Eve. The view wasn’t anything to write home about. They were only three stories up, after all. But the fresh air was nice, and after dark, the city really glowed. Sometimes, she came up here to think. Or she had before she started working so many hours. Now, her only night off was Monday, when the bar was closed.
“Mostly beer drinkers or cocktails?”
“Beer.”
“Mm.” Eve’s response gave no indication if this was what she had expected or wanted to hear. What was she planning for Swanson’s? If Josie really let herself think about the absolute power she’d given Eve when she signed the Do Over contract, it made her break out in a cold sweat. Deep down, she wanted to believe Eve wouldn’t do anything she would hate, but was that really true, or was Josie just being naïve?
The sun beat down on them, drawing out golden highlights in Eve’s brown hair. She’d left it down today, sleek and straight over her shoulders. It softened her look…just barely. She turned her head to look at Josie, and she saw the same honeyed tones in the chocolate depths of her eyes and in her tanned skin. Eve Marlow in the sunshine was a golden goddess.
Josie’s gaze dipped to her pink lips and then to the pulse pounding in the hollow of her throat. Her own pulse jumped in response, spreading that all too familiar warmth through her as she dragged her gaze back to Eve’s, only to find her watching Josie with that laser-like intensity she did so well. She had totally been watching Josie check her out, and she should probably feel embarrassed about that. She definitely should, but she didn’t.
Not when Eve’s pupils were blown with the same lust currently burning Josie up from head to toe. Holy shit.
She grinned, half-drunk off the hormones racing through her body. Sparks were good. Sparks were fun. Sparks were…inconvenient when she felt them for a woman who had the power to make or break her business and almost certainly had no intention on acting on her attraction to Josie, not as long as they had to work together. And maybe not even after, because somehow she imagined she wasn’t quite Eve’s type, whatever her type might be.
“We should get back downstairs,” Eve said, breaking the trance they seemed to have fallen into.
“Right.”
“You should be using this space.”
“I should?”
“Yes.” Eve turned away from the railing, her shoulder bumping Josie’s as she led the way back to the stairs, a silky strand of her hair brushing Josie’s overheated skin, causing goose bumps to rise in its wake.
Yeah, sparks were fun, all right, even if she never got the chance to let them ignite.
8
“Need a beer?”
Eve looked up from her laptop to find Josie standing in front of her, palms against the bar, friendly smile on her face. Swanson’s had opened an hour ago, but thus far, she and Josie were still the only ones in the place. “Sure.”
“Same one? The White Horse pilsner?”
“Yeah.”
“You got it.” Josie turned to grab a glass, drawing Eve’s attention to the tattoo on the back of her shoulder. After their trip to the roof, Josie had taken off her jacket, revealing the red tank top she wore beneath it…and her tattoo.
“A dragonfly?” she said, trying to keep her tone even, as if her fingers weren’t itching to touch it, as if she had no more than a passing interest in this newly revealed part of Josie’s body.
She turned to face Eve as she began to pour her beer. “Dragonflies symbolize transformation or self-realization. I got it after I came out.”
“Oh.” She’d seen the rainbow pin on Josie’s bag, and more importantly, she’d seen the heat in her eyes when she looked at Eve. But somehow, hearing her say it only intensified the restless urge to kiss her, an urge she absolutely could not allow herself to satisfy. “It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning the tattoo, but really, the sentiment applied to any part of Josie, if she were being honest.
“Thank you.” She slid the beer across the bar to Eve, their fingers brushing in the process, warm skin against cold glass.
Eve lifted it and took a long drink, trying to restore some semblance of sanity in her brain. It was the bar. It was messing with her head. The bar, and the beer. Bad ideas multiplying the longer she sat here.
Had she gotten all the information she needed from Josie today? Maybe she should leave now, get the fuck out of here before she lost any more of herself to this place, or this woman. She’d never shirked her job before, not because of an inconvenient attraction or a personal trigger, and she hated herself for even considering it now.
“Do you have any?” Josie asked.
“What?” Eve set the beer down, staring into its amber depths.
“Tattoos.”
“One,” she told her, crossing her legs beneath the bar.
“On your ankle, right?” Josie said. “I noticed it before.”
“Yes.” And she wasn’t going to let herself wonder when Josie had been staring at her ankles. Nor was she going to explain it to her, not today or likely ever.
“An infinity symbol?”
She nodded, resisting the urge to reach down and touch it.
“Cool,” Josie said after a pause, realizing Eve wasn’t going to elaborate. “I like it.”
“Thank you.” She swirled the glass slightly, watching the golden liquid coat its sides. “It’s about time to feed the kittens.”
“I can do it if you want,” Josie offered. “Just text me if anyone comes in, and I’ll come down and serve them.”
“All right. Thank you.” She wasn’t going to complain about skipping a feeding or not having to climb the stairs to Josie’s apartment. Her back had been a mess ever since she started lugging around the box of tiny felines.
“No problem.” Josie headed for the stairs with a bounce in her step. She truly enjoyed caring for the kittens and was genuinely disappointed she couldn’t raise them herself. It was a damn shame Eve wouldn’t be able to turn the bar around quickly enough to make it happen.
She stood from the stool to stretch her legs, and since she had the place to herself, she bent forward, stretching her back with an exercise her physical therapist had taught her, loosening the tension in her muscles and alleviating some of the pain. And then, unable to resist the temptation, she ducked behind the bar.
She placed her palms against its smooth lacquered surface the way Josie so often did. It was cool against her skin. Solid. Familiar. Without warning, she heard Lisa’s laughter ringing in her ears, saw her twirling a liquor bottle nimbly between her fingers before she began to pour. She heard her own laughter, mixed with Lisa’s, felt the warmth of it bubbling up inside her.
And then came the pain, so swift and brutal, it almost knocked the knees out from beneath her. She lowered her head, staring at her hands, waiting for it to pass. She was a different person now, and although Josie’s bar stirred memories, it couldn’t bring th
e old Eve back. Nothing could. She’d died in that car along with Lisa and their unborn daughter.
Forcing the memories away, she slipped her professional persona into place as she looked around the room, seeing it the way Josie did every night. It was a nice space, open and inviting, albeit somewhat worn and dated. It would need a facelift, but more than that, Swanson’s needed to be fully rebranded to succeed, maybe even take on a new name.
It was no accident that Josie had lost so much business over the last few years. A number of new bars had opened in the neighborhood during that timeframe, fresh and trendy while Swanson’s was showing its age. Eve had a few ideas to make Swanson’s relevant again, but she needed to do more research and observe Josie in action for the rest of the week before she made any official recommendations.
The front door swung open, and two of Josie’s friends walked in, a tall, lanky man with overly styled hair and a pretty black woman with a wild halo of curls. Adam and Kaia. Eve had interviewed them yesterday while the crew was here filming.
“Has she got you tending bar for her now too?” Adam asked jokingly as he slid onto a stool.
“Hardly,” she replied, realizing she was still standing behind the bar. “She’s upstairs feeding the kittens.”
“The ones you found in a trash can?” Kaia asked, sitting beside Adam.
“Yes.” She ducked out from behind the bar and sat on the stool in front of her laptop. “She’ll be down in a minute if you want something to drink.” She wasn’t going to text Josie to come down for these two, who she knew never paid for their drinks. Didn’t they realize Swanson’s was about to go under? How could they take advantage of their friend like that?
“I can do it,” Adam said, sliding behind the bar. “I help Josie out back here all the time. How are things going for the show?”
Eve watched him pour beer as an idea formed in her mind. “It’s going well. Actually, there’s something I think you could help me with.”
