“She can’t work here,” Drew said, a look of panic clear in his eyes. “You can’t work here,” he repeated this time to Gwen.
She straightened and crossed her arms in defiance. “I can and I do.”
I leaned toward them across the bar. “Someone want to fill me in here?”
Drew glared at her, but despite his reaction she seemed amused.
“Drew and I had a little thing a while ago,” she said.
“A thing?” he asked. “You nearly ruined my relationship with Alex.”
“Please.” She scoffed and stepped closer to him with a flirtatious smile. “She never could handle a little competition.”
Drew leaned across the bar, his eyes pleading with me. “Dude, you have to get her out of here. If Red finds out, she’s gonna lose her shit.”
I looked back at Gwen and a moment of panic filled her eyes, but she quickly covered it with a smug smile.
“She’ll just have to deal,” she said.
Drew didn’t respond. He didn’t even acknowledge her. He just raised an eyebrow and silently pleaded with me to help him out.
I needed to get to the bottom of this. Drew and Alex were as much a part of this place as I was. They’d been more than supportive when I bought it from Drew’s father, but I couldn’t fire Gwen just because he asked me to.
“Princess, a word?” I said. “Stockroom.”
I headed toward the back and she turned to follow, but not before she blew a kiss in Drew’s direction, which only made him clench his fists at his sides, his mouth set into a hard line.
I pulled her into the stockroom and shut the door behind us, pacing the floor as I tried to get a handle on the situation.
“You aren’t seriously going to fire me because of him?”
“I’m considering it.”
Her mouth dropped open for a second before her expression hardened and her eyes narrowed.
“Tell me what happened,” I snapped.
She folded her arms across her chest. “I told you. We had a thing. It was no big deal.”
“If it was no big deal then why did he say you almost broke them up?”
“He’s being dramatic. Besides they’re obviously still together so I don’t see what the problem is.”
“They’re getting married. And they are my friends. I can’t have you causing problems with them. I don’t need this Dawson’s Creek drama bullshit in my bar.”
“Dawson’s Creek?” she scoffed. “That show was on like a million years ago. Update your references, Grandpa.”
I took a deep breath and ground my teeth together, trying to keep my cool. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s really not a big deal. Alex and I used to work together, okay? She made up some bullshit to my boss about me and I got fired. I knew she had a thing for Drew but was too chicken shit to do something about it, so I slept with him to get back at her,” she said, shrugging like it was no big deal.
I stared at her, wide eyed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Of all the childish vindictive shit I’d heard in my life—and growing up in my house there was a lot—it blew my mind that she could do something so low.
“You slept with him to get back at her?”
“It was a long time ago and besides, they weren’t even together. If anything, she should thank me. If I hadn’t slept with him, then she never would’ve had the balls to make a move herself. Seeing us together helped light a fire under her ass.”
“She saw you?”
“She walked in while we were—”
“I don’t want to know.”
I turned away and ran a hand down my face as I tried to process what she’d just said, but I couldn’t get my head around something like that. She actually thought she was justified in her actions. It was insane, but what really bothered me was this strange knot in the pit of my stomach that formed from just thinking about her with Drew. It was bizarre. Almost like I was…jealous.
I shook off the ridiculous thought and turned to face her again. “What kind of person does that?” I asked. I didn’t want an answer. I was just trying to wrap my head around it.
“Excuse me? I didn’t force him into anything. Drew was just as much a part of this as I was. I didn’t just throw myself on his dick you know.”
“I can’t deal with this right now. I have to get back out there.”
“So, that’s it? He walks in here with some bullshit demand and I’m fired?”
“I don’t know. We’ll discuss it later.” I headed out of the stockroom, slamming the door behind me.
When I got back to bar Drew was waiting for me. “Is she gone?”
“Look, man.…I get it, but I can’t just fire her because of some shit that happened before you and Alex were even together.”
“Liam, you can’t be serious. Red is stressed enough with the wedding and this will send her straight over the edge.”
“I hear you, I do. Let me think about it, okay? For now, just keep Alex out of the bar until I can figure out what to do.”
Drew sighed. “All right, I’ll try. But think fast, man. This is not going to end well for either of us if Red finds out.”
I looked toward the back as Gwen emerged from the stockroom. I saw her quickly wipe her hand across her cheek. Was she crying? She looked up and met my eyes for a moment before pushing through the kitchen door and disappearing into the back. I had a feeling the whole situation was going to blow up in my face no matter what I decided to do.
Chapter 7
Gwen
After closing, I untied my apron and pushed through the kitchen door into the bar. When I looked up, Liam was seated at the bar nursing a whiskey.
I sighed and took a deep breath. I needed this job, but based on our conversation earlier, I was pretty sure I’d been fired. I might as well get it over with.
“So, I guess I’m done,” I said, dropping onto the stool beside him.
Liam was quiet. He took a sip from his drink and kept his focus on the wall behind the bar.
“Come on, Liam. Can we just get this over with so—”
“Why did you even take this job?”
“I needed it.”
He scoffed. “Please. You don’t need the money.”
“You have no idea what I need.” I could feel the anger rising in my chest again.
“You wear six-hundred-dollar jeans and carry a fifteen-hundred-dollar purse. You don’t need the money.” He finished what was left of his drink before pouring himself a new one.
I looked down at my jeans and frowned. How the fuck did he know how much they cost?
“So, tell me, why is a spoiled little rich girl like you working in a dive like this anyway?”
“It’s not a dive.”
Liam turned toward me, raising his brow. “Really? Is that why you lied to your friend?”
The comment stopped me in my tracks. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through, so don’t assume you know anything about me or my life.”
“Oh, I know you, all right. You’re spoiled and selfish and you like it that way. I’m sure your Daddy pays for everything from your car, to your apartment, to that fake hair glued to your head.”
I winced as his harsh yet accurate description hit me hard, like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before, but something about hearing it from Liam made me feel ashamed of who I was. Gwen Stevens doesn’t do shame.
“So far, everything in life has been handed to you. Including this job, which is why I’m curious why you would even want it in the first place. Why can’t you just call Daddy to bail you out of whatever trouble you’re in?”
“Because he cut me off,” I shouted. My breathing was labored as white hot rage coursed through my veins. I couldn’t tell if I was more pissed because he was being an ass, or because he was right.
Liam frowned and turned to face me. “Good for him.”
“E
xcuse me?” I sneered.
“I said good for him. You’re a fucking adult, Princess. Maybe it’s time you acted like one.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I reared back and slapped him hard across his face. The sound of my palm making contact with his cheek echoed through the empty bar.
Slowly, Liam turned his face back to meet my eyes. He rubbed his cheek, the skin already red and heated.
With a growl, he stood up, knocking over the bar stool in the process. He took a step toward me, his ice blue eyes dark and intense. One more step and we’d be nose to nose. I swallowed, suddenly nervous and slightly terrified. I wasn’t scared of Liam. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. It wasn’t about that. I was more afraid of the way he was looking at me with such intensity it felt like he knew exactly who I really was. Like he could see beyond the mask—and I had a feeling he didn’t like what he saw.
It surprised me, but I realized, in that moment, standing in front of this incredibly gorgeous man, that the only thing I wanted was his respect. It was unnerving. Sex came easily to me. Men were eager and all it took was a smile, maybe a little flirtation and the game was on. That’s exactly what it was—a game. They didn’t respect me, and I sure as hell didn’t respect them, but Liam was different. I actually cared what he thought of me—not how I looked, but what he thought of me as a person. It was terrifying.
Still, I refused to back down. I wasn’t going to let him win. He might think he knew me, but I refused to go down without a fight and I fought dirty.
He kept staring, watching me closely. Then suddenly, his focus dipped to my lips and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Just the thought of his lips on mine sent a current of white hot lust directly between my thighs.
I shook it off. I was attracted to him, so what? I was sure a lot of women wanted Liam. He was beautiful. Those eyes, that rich brown hair, those delicious lips. Shit! So much for shaking off the attraction.
I pushed the thought away. Liam was my boss. Well, for the next few minutes, at least, and nothing would ever happen between us. It was clear he wasn’t nearly as taken with me.
I narrowed my eyes, daring him to take me on, and he almost smiled. The next thing I knew, I was staring at his perfect ass as he marched toward the back with me thrown over his shoulder.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I screamed, trying in vain to loosen his grip.
Liam didn’t say anything, just kept on walking as I kicked and screamed at him the whole way.
He carried me up a flight of stairs and through an old metal door. I continued to beat on his back, shouting, “Put me down,” and finally he listened. He set me down in front of a large punching bag that hung from an exposed steel beam high above my head.
“What the hell?” I asked. “Where are we?”
“You want to hit something, Princess? Hit that.” He gestured toward the bag.
“What?” With all the commotion, I’d almost forgot I’d slapped him.
“Hit the bag.”
“I’m out of here,” I said, heading for the door, but Liam stepped in my path.
“You’re angry. Daddy cut you off. You’re forced to work a shit job for lousy pay. You want to lash out? You want payback? There it is, Princess.” He gestured to the bag again.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you need to get that chip off your shoulder. The universe doesn’t give handouts. The sooner you let go of all that anger and resentment about life not turning out the way you planned, the better off you’ll be.” Liam took a step toward me, his jaw set and his eyes intense and determined. “Now hit the fucking bag, Gwen,” he growled.
He called me Gwen. He’d never used my name before. Something about the way he said it knocked the fight right out of me. I looked back at the bag and stepped forward. Maybe a little catharsis would be good for me.
I glared at the bag and pictured my stepmother’s face as I set my feet and took a swing. My knuckles slammed into the bag with a satisfying smack as pain shot through my hand.
“Son of a bitch,” I said, shaking my hand out and glaring at the bag, which had barely moved. Mother fucker.
Liam stepped behind me. His hands went to my hips as he corrected my stance. The soft pressure of his hands as he moved me into position made me swallow hard, while I tried not to react to his touch.
He reached for my hands. The rough pads of his fingertips pried open my fist and repositioned my fingers, and caused goosebumps to rise on my arms. “Thumb goes on the outside. Tucked over your index finger. When you throw a punch, use your hips, throw all your weight into the swing.”
I mimicked his stance, shifting my hips as I pivoted my foot.
He nodded. “Good. Try again.”
I threw another punch to the bag and it moved a little, swaying a bit on its chain and damn did it feel good. It was a release. The anger and the hurt I’d felt for as long as I could remember eased the tiniest bit. I felt alive and powerful and…strong. I wanted to feel that way again and again.
I landed punch after punch to the bag until sweat beaded on my forehead and my knuckles were raw and red from the effort.
My mind raced with thoughts of my mother, of my dad cutting me off, getting fired from Grant Designs, Peter’s smug face, and Drew’s panicked expression.
His hand gripped my shoulder and I stilled, spinning around so quickly I nearly lost my balance. Strong hands gripped my hips to steady me as my breath came in short shallow gasps.
“Better?” Liam asked as he released me once he seemed sure I wouldn’t fall.
I fought to catch my breath, then nodded.
He gave me a small smile and headed to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me. I tipped my head back, gulping the water down my dry throat.
Once the bottle was empty, I finally took in my surroundings. I hadn’t been in the mindset to take in the space until now.
It was a wide open loft, wood floors, sky high ceilings with exposed steel beams painted a rust red color that complemented the exposed brick walls. Wide filmy windows cast a dull glow from the street lights outside on the open living room which housed an old leather couch and a coffee table made from wooden pallets. It was obviously still a work in progress, but it had potential, sort of an industrial meets rustic vibe.
The kitchen had gleaming stainless steel countertops that reflected the light from the Mason jar light fixtures that hung above the breakfast bar. The cabinets were a dark charcoal color, simple and functional. Nothing about this place was over the top or luxurious, but it felt comfortable, like the Better Homes and Gardens version of a bachelor pad.
The bathroom wasn’t finished. The walls were framed with wood and allowed a clear view of the toilet. An old claw foot tub sat in the corner surrounded by a plain white shower curtain that hung from the ceiling to offer some semblance of privacy.
I wondered what he had planned for the remodel. If this was any indication, no doubt it would be amazing when it was finished.
“You live here?”
He nodded.
“It’s nice.”
Liam laughed. “It will be.”
“You fixing it yourself?”
“When I can.”
He studied his hands and I stood there and twisted the cap on my water bottle on and off, while an awkward silence washed over us.
He exhaled. “Look, what I said before, it was—”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Liam folded his arms across his chest. “Who said I was apologizing?”
“Liam, I’m tired. Can you just fire me so I can go home and get some sleep?”
He shook his head. “You’re a real piece of work, Princess.”
I shrugged. It’s not like I hadn’t heard that before.
I heard a soft thud and turned to see a bright orange tabby sitting on the kitchen counter. “What the hell?” I said as the cat stared me down. I turned toward Liam and raised an eyebrow. “You have a c
at?”
“It’s more like he has me,” Liam said with a smile, holding out his hand as the cat rubbed against him.
“I never took you for a cat person,” I said, watching Liam as he held the kitty’s face gently in his palm, scratching him lightly behind the ears. His whole demeanor changed the moment his fingers made contact with the cat’s soft orange fur. Gone was the angry, frustrated Liam. Tension eased from his shoulders and a smile played on his lips as he stroked his hand down the feline’s back.
Liam shrugged. “He was here first. We have an arrangement. I provide the food and water, and he lets me pretend I’m in charge.”
I frowned, having a hard time trying to wrap my head around the image of this giant bear of a man being reduced to a pile of mush by a bright orange fur ball.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I just call him Cat.”
“Your cat’s name is Cat?”
“It fits him,” Liam said, leaning down as Cat affectionately rubbed his forehead against Liam’s.
I sighed. This entire night had been a whole new level of surreal for me. “So, am I coming in tomorrow or not?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“Not,” he said, continuing to scratch behind Cat’s ear.
I frowned as my muscles tightened, ready to chew him out for firing me over some bullshit that happened almost two years ago.
Sensing the shift in my mood, Liam held up a hand to stop me before my tirade let lose. “Take the day off. Be in on Thursday.”
“Um, okay.” I was caught off guard, poised and ready for a fight. I was so sure I knew how this whole thing was gonna go that his words floored me. He was giving me another shot? Wow, never saw that one coming.
I turned and headed for the door, then paused and turned back to face him. “You’re sure?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Just get out of here before I change my mind.” His lips tipped up in a smirk.
I nodded and turned to leave again.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, my phone started to vibrate in my pocket. I took it out and swiped my finger across the screen without bothering to see who was calling.
A Chance At Redemption (Madison Square Book 3) Page 5
