by Vivian Wood
But just thinking about the time it would take to reorganize everything brings on a splitting headache. So… I just deal with it.
“It’s not great,” I say with a shrug. “It drives Owen crazy and Bradford won’t even look in here.”
I turn, expecting to see some sort of horror written on Cate’s face. But instead, I see a light turn on behind her eyes. She looks at me, animated. “Oh, I’m gonna conquer this mess.”
She pushes up the sleeves of her cardigan and pushes past me, picking up one of the files closest to her.
“Do you need—” I start.
She cuts me off by raising a hand. Without taking her eyes off the file, she starts to close the door. “I’m fine. Go work. I’ll come see you if I have questions.”
Hesitating, I watch Cate for a second until the door closes on her. What could she really screw up? Nothing that’s not fixable, I guess…
Slinking back to my office, I return to my seat and try my best to focus on the contracts and the spreadsheet. At one point, I field a phone call from an irate manager. He’s mad because he doesn’t have finalized details for a set booked in late January. It takes me a while to uncover the band’s file and by the time we are done haggling, it’s early evening.
Cate has been going at the organization of the file closet for almost two and a half hours. Frowning, I decide I should check on her. Before I can though, Owen pops his head into my office.
“Have you seen your wife’s organizational skills?” he asks, widening his eyes. “I think you should think twice about divorcing her, Luca.”
“We’re getting an annulment,” I say with a sigh. “And no, I haven’t seen her work. What is she screwing up now?”
Owen waves me over, so I get up out of my chair. When I round the corner, Owen pushes the door of the file closet open a little more. Cate’s ass is the first thing I see, poking up as she reaches for a file at the very bottom of a filing cabinet.
All around her, folders are neatly sorted into stacks. It’s really not bad for a couple of hours of work. She senses us behind her and freezes, then shoots to her knees. When she turns to face us, her cheeks are stained pink.
“Hi,” she says, patting at her hair. She has a streak of dust across her right cheek. Reaching for her cell phone, she says, “What time is it? There are no windows in here.”
Owen glances at his watch. “Just past six.”
“Ah. I have a tendency to get caught up in projects that involve organizing.” She turns around, dusting herself off. “Is there something I should be doing instead?”
“Oh, look at this!” Bradford says, crowding into the doorway. “Girl! This closet has been a wreck for years. It’s time that somebody did something with it, honestly. Good job!”
Cate blushes. “Well, it’s hardly done. I have a few types of files…”
Owen looks down at his phone. “I gotta take this call guys. Excuse me.”
Cate adjusts the waist of her long skirt, seeming not to realize the fact that her nipples are poking through her camisole. There is something so innocent about that, so lacking in pretense.
What would it be like if I laid her down right here and took her, hard and quick and dirty?
“Well…” she says, frowning. “What now?”
Bradford is already headed into the storage room. That leaves me, staring down at Cate. She meets my gaze, licking her lips. “Luca, any direction you would like to give me?”
Yes, is my first instinct. There is something about her being on her knees and asking that question that makes me think dirty thoughts.
God, am I really lusting after my little sister’s best friend? Ugh, I really need to get laid.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “No. It seems like you have things well in hand here.”
Her eyes narrow on my face. “You don’t have to make fun of me, Luca.”
“I’m not,” I shoot back, defensive.
Cate rolls her eyes and begins to shut the door. “Come get me when it’s time for me to leave.”
Before I can say anything else, the door closes with a click. My phone rings on my desk next door, so I just sigh heavily and head to answer it.
But in the back of my mind, I’m still wondering if the idea to have Cate work here was terrible or not.
9
Cate
“Oh no. No way am I wearing that.” I’m in the employee dressing room, and I’m mad. Well, less mad and more wildly uncomfortable. “I’ve worked here for a week and nobody other than Luca has had anything to say about my wardrobe…”
Standing at a rolling rack full of clothes that Luna has picked out, I’m staring at a bright pink tube dress on a hanger.
It turns out that Luca said something to her about how I don’t dress to match the bar vibe, whatever that means. So today when I showed up for work, Luna was already here. And she came prepared with all kinds of clothes.
She’s a clothes horse for sure; most of this rack just came from the back of one of her closets.
Luna rolls her eyes, but she’s still beaming at me. She’s actually been beaming nonstop since Vegas. I don’t want to crush her dreams, so I just stay silent about the fact that I’m still getting an annulment from her jerk of a brother.
“We’re gonna take this in baby steps, okay? No glittery pink tube dresses but maybe…” She brushes my shoulder as she flips through the garment rack. “How about this?”
She pulls out a bright red one-piece pantsuit, her eyes sparkling. It has a very low front and back and appears to be made of parachute material. “This is conservative, sort of. Well, less conservative conservative, but it’s got pants!”
“Luna, that thing has a plunging neckline instead of a collar. It would show off all kinds of boob. It’s not happening.” I pause, my head tilting. “What kind of bra do you even wear with that?”
Luna sighs, putting the jumpsuit back. “You don’t. And you’re right, it’s probably too advanced for you.”
She pushes a few hangers aside one by one, looking thoughtful. I clear my throat. “Maybe something with a skirt, at least? I’ve worn a skirt for my whole life and I don’t see any reason to stop now.” I pause. “And for the love of god, no more plunging necklines.”
“Ooooh,” she says, pulling out a black cocktail dress. “Simple. Basic. No crazy neckline. It even has sleeves… and it’s made of cotton.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It’s so short.”
“No more protesting! Just think of it as your work wardrobe. Now go change into this,” Luna commands. “And I think I have some black high heels in my car that are your size.”
“Thanks,” I say, although I don’t really mean it. Luna flashes me a big grin and hurries out of the room. I hurry through changing, thanking the Lord that I decided to wear my good bra and panties today.
Turning to look at myself in the full length mirror, I frown. This dress falls to mid-thigh and shows off an eye-catching amount of cleavage. Is this really my uniform for working at this bar?
Luna bursts back in the room, unworried about my privacy. “So I think if you like that dress—“ She stops short, the black heels hanging from one hand. “Daaaamn. That dress looks dope on you! That’s it, I’m ordering five more in different colors.”
“Luna,” I warn. “I only agreed to this because you promised me it wouldn’t cost anything.”
“Pssh,” she says, beaming. “They’re only like $120 each. That’s a total bargain!”
Flushing, I grab her hand when she pulls out her phone. “That’s six hundred dollars, Luna. That’s a ton of money to most people. Please don’t spend that kind of money. I will feel obligated to pay you back and I really can’t afford it.”
Her brow furrows and she sighs. “Alright, fine. But you are totally taking that dress. I thought it looked good on me, but seeing it on you, I’m like… damn.” She hands me the shoes she’s carrying. “Here, put these on. And I’m going to put some mascara and lipstick on you. Not a single word, ok
ay?”
I curl my lip but step into the heels anyway. They’re uncomfortable but I can walk in them. After I begrudgingly allow Luna to do my makeup, she beckons me to the mirror.
“Ready to see?”
I take a moment to thank her. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful for this, Luna. Even though I hate subscribing to other people’s beauty standards, I’m glad that I have you to dress me up. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to do this forever. Besides, you make a great doll.” She fluffs my hair. “Now look.”
Glancing in the mirror, I’m a little surprised. The girl that stares back at me is an absolute knockout, no doubt about it. But she also looks a little… dull. Like someone drained all the personality right out of her and replaced it with hotness.
I pull a face. “I need something—”
“Got it,” Luna cuts in. She offers me a sparkly pink and blue stegosaurus made out of sequins . It’s about the size of my hand and it has a handy pin on the backside.
I look at her, my lips curling. “How did you know?”
She shrugs. “You always did like to be individualistic. This definitely says something more than just the black dress.”
I take a second to hug her and then affix the pin to the right side of my chest, just above my breast. Looking at it makes me laugh, which is good. I was almost sweating bullets without it.
The door bursts open, revealing an all-black wearing Luca. “Cate!”
He stops in his tracks when he sees us, his eyes widening. His eyes go right to my cleavage. “Jesus.”
I feel completely naked under his gaze, and not in a good way. My hands tug down the hem of my dress.
“The nuns can finally dress in their own clothes, huh?” he says. “It’s really nice of you to dress your age and leave the long skirts to them.”
I shoot Luca a glare but don’t have a good comeback.
Luna leans close to me, stage whispering. “That’s the initial reaction you want everyone to have, in case you were wondering. You’re a fox.”
He glares at his sister. “Very funny. We are short a server tonight, so Cate, that’s where we’ll put you in. Come on, Bradford has to run through things with you.”
Nodding, I start following him. I turn to Luna as I go. “Text me later?”
“Of course,” she says, smiling at me again.
As I hurry to follow Luca, I can’t help but notice the fact that there is a hole in his jeans. On the inside of his leg, only a few inches down from his crotch. Is that fashion? Is it just laziness?
Whatever reason that hole exists, it is making me stare at Luca’s ass for a prolonged period… so I guess there is that. Yanking my gaze away, I throw myself into the training Bradford is about to give me.
Twenty minutes later, I’m trying to remember it all. “Go to a table.” I take a deep breath. “Write down the table number. Carry the order back to one of the iPads. Order the drinks. Pick up said drinks from the bar. Take them to the customers.”
Bradford leans against the bar, looking pleased. “Rinse. Repeat. Multiply by a few hundred. You’ll do fine. If not, it doesn’t matter. It’s a Wednesday so it’ll be slow. Besides, Bonnie will be back tomorrow to take her usual shift.”
Luca stalks out of the back, looking even more annoyed than usual. “Hey. Miss Not-A-Nun—”
I flush. “Better a nun than a slut. If there are only two ways a man can look at a woman, I’ll take the more innocent one, every single time.”
“God, she’s so right,” Bradford sighs. He gives me a high five.
Luca rolls his eyes. “Christ. I have a private party of fifteen coming in tonight. Usually I would ask Bradford to take them, but he’s also training a new bartender.”
“Lucky me,” Bradford mutters. His sarcasm is missed by no one.
“Come with me. I’ll help you set up their table.” He starts off, leaving me to trail in his wake.
In the back of my mind, I’m still a little off-kilter over the fact that Luca demeaned my dress again in public. Worse than that actually… because I have to work with these people.
When he reaches a table, I catch his elbow. He gives me the same look that a king would give a dirty peasant, but I don’t care. I’m pissed.
“Hey. Do you want to lay off a little?” I ask, whispering angrily.
One of his brows rises. “Excuse me?”
I lean closer to his smug face, pointing a finger at him. “You just can’t help yourself. I’m dressing how you want me to, okay? Isn’t that enough? Do you really have to keeping bullying me about every little thing?”
He glares, moving closer so that he’s right in my face. He reaches out and lifts up my pin. “I didn’t realize that sparkly dinosaurs counted as what I wanted. This thing is ugly as sin.”
I yank my body back. “Don’t touch me.”
He actually laughs in my face. “You are such a nun! Admit it!”
“I am not!” I can feel my face turning red. “It’s not prudish to tell a man to keep his hands to himself.”
Luca’s dark eyes gleam. “But what about your husband?”
Fuming, I smack him on the arm. “I swear, this whole please stay married to me thing is just… stupid!”
He glares at me, opening his mouth. Luckily at that moment Bradford calls out from across the bar. “Save it for the bedroom, guys! We open the front door in less than five minutes!”
Luca narrows his eyes at Bradford, but he does shift his stance to grab another table and pull it close. “We’re not finished here, princess.”
“Whatever. You should just be glad that I’m going to be busy all night.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I’m scrambling to clarify. “Because otherwise I would… you know… beat you at sparring. Err… verbally…”
Luca grins. “You know what? Maybe princess is the wrong nickname for you. Maybe it should be Old Lady.”
“That’s not fair!” I protest.
“Cate!” Bradford calls. “Come get an order pad, please!”
Giving Luca a foul look, I head across the venue and take one of the paper pads that Bradford holds out to me. He gives me a look, head to toe.
“Honey, I know that you’re all giddy because the boss man is totally in love with you. Seriously, it’s amazing. Any other time I would thank you. But right now, I need you to get your game face on. I’m about to unlock those doors and I need you to pretend that you have the minutest smidge of experience, okay?”
“Oh, that’s not… we’re not…” I laugh. “I mean, we are getting an annulment,” I finish lamely.
“How nice for you. My point is, put all your personal stuff aside for the next five hours. Look, Levi is unbolting the door… And there is the first guest…” He shoos me away from the bar, turning away to stack copper mugs.
I have to straighten my dress, walk a little taller in my borrowed heels, and go greet the first customers of the night. After that, the night speeds up, going into warp drive around ten. By then I’m waiting on the entire room by myself and I’m way too far in the weeds to so much as think about Luca.
I do catch a glimpse of him, bussing a table here and bringing someone water there. And I have to wonder…
What did Bradford mean when he said that Luca was in love with me? Obviously if he’d been listening, he would know that not a single sweet word crossed Luca’s lips.
Is he just crazy?
By the end of the night, Luca is long gone, leaving me and Bradford to clean up. We do twenty minutes of light cleaning, during which I’m too tired to even process that I had a question for Bradford.
I head home, so tired that I’m about to drop. Only when my head is on my pillow, my eyes closed, does Bradford’s statement float back up to the top of my mind.
The boss man is totally in love with you, he said.
Yeah right. I fall asleep with a smile curving my lips, thinking about what Luca would act like if we didn’t absolutely hate each other.
&nb
sp; 10
Luca
“You push the cart like a bitch.”
I eye Owen, grunting. “These carts are tiny. If you don’t like how I do it, you push the cart.”
I let the cart go, forcing Owen to grab it before it runs into a huge display of apples. “I hate going to the grocery store. Can’t we just make a list and send one of the employees to do our errands?”
“No,” I say, stopping at the citrus display. I pick up a lime, squeezing it. “We are going into the spring season, which means we need to change our bar menu. This is how I get inspired, man.”
Owen crosses his arms and grumbles. “I don’t know why you had to pick right now to go grocery shopping.”
“You want to watch the Seahawks game on the big screen? This is the price you pay.” I sweep a bag of lemons and a bag of limes into the tiny cart, then throw a couple of grapefruits in for good measure. “Besides, this store is in such a weird part of town. I never drive by this place, I only come here on purpose.”
“It’s expensive as fuck.” He looks unimpressed. Then his head turns and his brows lift. “Is that Madisyn?”
My heart seizes up. I look over and there she is, at the other end of the produce area. She tosses her long hair, looking displeased, and points at her cart. She’s not alone, of course. No, Madisyn is with a big, ripped dude that’s wearing a Seahawks jersey.
“Fuck,” I say.
As if she feeds off of my unhappiness, Madisyn turns away. Our gazes clash. And the biggest smile overtakes Madisyn’s whole face.
“Ah, shit. She’s coming over here,” Owen complains, shoulders sagging. “Like I need to be dressed down right now. I had a long day.”
“Hello boys,” Madisyn chirps, striding up to us. “I’m not sure you’ve met Reginald, my fiancé?”
She motions to the guy ten paces behind her, who is having a hard time controlling his cart.
“Hey,” I say.
