by Ava Harrison
I start speaking really fast, trying to get out everything that needs to be said before Rob makes his way over here.
“Harper, I just started. It hasn’t been long, but it’s helped me get out of trouble. There were some issues with my last job that I’m not going to get into here, but I had to quit. If you knew the story, you’d agree. Drew gave me this job, and so far, it’s been awesome. I’m not using, and I’ve already been promoted.”
“Is there a problem here?” Rob’s grizzly form hovers over my shoulder, and I tense as Harper’s eyes widen.
“You’re having me thrown out?” she accuses.
“I’m having you thrown out,” Carter says, coming to my defense. “You’re causing a scene and badgering my employees.”
“How dare you?” she hisses at him, acting completely unlike Harper.
“Come on, ma’am, it’s time for you to go,” Rob chimes in.
Harper stands, shrugging off Rob’s hands that have come to her arm to help escort her.
“Get your hands off of me, you big goon.”
I wince. The scene just gets worse as the minutes go by. More people gather around to try to witness whatever’s about to go down. If they knew my sister, they’d know she’s all bark.
“What’s going on?” Drew says, joining the party and drawing even more attention.
“What’s going on?” Harper snarls. “Tell me, Drew. Why is my sister working here?”
Drew raises a brow. “Hello to you too, Harper. Would you like to go somewhere quiet so we can talk?”
“No. I have nothing to say to you. I can’t believe you hired her,” she says, leveling him with a glare that could burn this entire place to the ground. “Do you know about her past?”
It’s my turn to jump in. “Harper, this is not the place,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot say,” she says in what I’m sure is supposed to be a commanding voice, but it’s slurred instead as she rocks back on her heels.
“How much has she had to drink?” I ask her wide-eyed friends sitting with her. Clearly, they are colleagues based on the way they’re dressed, which only makes this entire thing worse. She will never forgive me for embarrassing her in front of people she works with.
“I gave her a job because Cal begged me to,” Drew snaps.
I close my eyes, wanting to crawl under the table at his slip. Had Cal not told him to keep that under the radar? Based on Harper’s expression—a mix of betrayal and horror—this conversation was not going to end well for Cal, and it was all my fault.
“Harper—”
“Don’t say another word,” she practically cries as she storms out of the bar.
“I-I’ll be back,” I say on the verge of my own tears. “Carter, can you help me with this table?” He nods, motioning for me to follow her. I run, trying to catch up to her, but she’s on a mission to get as far away from me as possible. When I get outside, she’s staggering off down the sidewalk.
“Harper,” I yell out, and she swings around menacingly, stalking back toward me.
“How dare you?” she says, jabbing a finger in my chest. “How dare you humiliate me in there?”
“I didn’t humiliate you,” I cry. “You humiliated yourself. And me in my workplace.”
“You have no business working there,” she shoots back.
“That’s not for you to decide, Harper. I’m an adult.”
“You haven’t proven that over the years.”
“That isn’t fair. I’ve been clean for two years.”
“You won’t be for long working in a place like that,” she says, pointing toward Silver. “You know it’s just a matter of time before all of the shit inside those walls has you itching for a high.”
I blow out a harsh breath. What she says is harsh, but it’s from years of habits. She’s watched this song and dance so many times, I can’t blame her for questioning it.
“I’m stronger than you think.”
“You are a child,” she bellows, and I flinch. “You never learn, and this time, Bailey, you’ve gone too far.” Her voice pitches. “You’ve pulled the rug out from under me, and you brought Cal into it. I’m never going to forgive you.” She says the last part quietly before turning and walking away.
Her anger I can handle, but the disappointment I saw reflected in her eyes was too much. Tears glide down my cheeks as my body begins to shake. All of the adrenaline rushes out of me, and the sorrow that I might’ve just lost my one stable relationship takes over.
“Bailey,” Drew calls from directly behind me. I shake my already lowered head, signaling I couldn’t talk if I wanted to.
Two muscular arms circle around my body, pulling me into Drew’s chest. I sag into his embrace, knowing I shouldn’t but not caring at the moment. I cry, and he lets me, periodically whispering soothing words and running his hand up and down my back.
After a while, I wipe away the last of the tears as embarrassment floods my system. Not only had the entire club witnessed our fight, but so had Drew. God, he must think I’m a mess.
“Drew, I—”
“Shh,” he whispers. “Let’s get you home, and we can talk about it tomorrow.”
I look up and over my shoulder at him for the first time. My eyes have to be swollen, and if my past history of welts after crying is still a thing, I’m likely sporting them.
I nod my thanks and allow him to make the decisions. Minutes later, my stuff is placed into my hand as I sit in the back of his Town Car once more.
“I’ve got to get back in there, but Stan will get you home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
With that, he shuts the door, leaving me to wonder if I’ll still have a job come tomorrow.
13
Drew
I tap my pen as I consider what I’m about to do. After the scene last night, it was clear that Bailey can’t work at the club, and I’m an asshole for not recognizing that sooner. I’m not new to addiction, and I should know better than to employ addicts, no matter where they’re at in their recovery—or non-recovery in Carter’s case. Regardless of a damn property agreement.
That wasn’t even why I did it. When I read about what Bailey had been through online, I couldn’t say no. The call to help was too powerful.
Guilt over my own past sealed the deal.
So here we are . . . I have too many addicts in my employment, and I’m not sure what to do about it.
You can’t help everyone.
You couldn’t help her.
I can try to help Bailey.
Carter might be another issue, though. Having those two work together is asking for trouble. He needs rehab.
I groan, thinking about Carter. He’s not in any better shape to work here, but there is literally nothing else for him. Bailey, at least, has a family with means. Carter is alone. His mom bailed on him the minute she was able. It’s either here or the streets because any of the other options he has wouldn’t give a fuck if he were using on the clock. As long as the drinks are poured and the money is flowing, every other bar in the city lets that shit fly. In fact, some even provide it to their employees as a means to keep them going throughout the night. It’s sickening.
I can’t worry about him right now. Bailey’s my focus.
I called down to Carter moments ago and asked him to send her my way. Sam is coming to take her place. I know Bailey is going to be pissed, but I’ll make it worth it. I have to.
A knock on the door has me sitting up taller in my chair. I know who’s behind that door, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to have her closer to me.
“Come in,” I call out, and the door opens to a flustered Bailey.
“Carter said you needed me. Everything okay? I’m super busy tonight,” she spews in one long run-on sentence.
“Everything’s fine, but you won’t be on the floor tonight. I’m removing you.”
“What?” she squeals, not giving me time to explain. “What did I do? Is thi
s about last night? I’m so sorry, Drew.”
Her face has transformed into panic. It radiates off her, and I feel like an ass for breaking the news in such a way. It’s evident she thinks she’s fired.
Standing, I walk to the front of my desk and lean against it.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re not fired, Bailey. I have a proposal for you.”
Confusion takes over as her eyebrows drop low and her lips smash in a straight line. “What . . . kind of a proposal?”
I roll my eyes at the way she says it. If I had to guess, she thinks I’m calling in that quid pro quo she accused me of the other night.
“A work proposal, Bailey. Nothing more.”
Her shoulders lower a bit as she relaxes, allowing me to continue. The action brings my attention to her neck. I imagine running kisses up the slender curve. My hands would curl around her hips, pulling her close so that we are chest to chest.
As I peruse her body, I can hear her intake of breath. I know she’s affected by me.
My eyes finally meet hers. Her eyes . . . The color of blue is intoxicating, holding secrets I want to uncover. I want to know everything about this girl. With just a quick glance, they tell me everything, yet nothing at all.
By the way she shifts from one leg to the other, I’ve made her uncomfortable. She continues to wring her hands, and she clears her throat as if to wipe away the past few minutes. I should probably stay away from her, knowing her past, but I’m losing my internal fight.
Right now, though, I need to get back on track.
I clear my throat. “Do you have any experience in accounting?”
She looks at me skeptically. “No, I can’t say that I do.”
“Excellent,” I say, not really worried if she even finished the first grade. I’ll teach her anything she needs to learn. “I’m going to promote you to my assistant. We’ll start your training tomorrow afternoon.”
“What? But I just started bottle service. Surely, someone else is more qualified to be your assistant.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“No, it’s just . . . Well, I’m new, and I can’t imagine how I’ve managed to earn a promotion and a raise in the short amount of time I’ve been here. This won’t go over well with the other employees, and I’m not looking to make enemies.”
“Let me worry about that stuff, Bailey. I own Silver, and I make the decisions. You’ll start tomorrow. I’ll text you the time and location later.” I stand and walk toward her. I’m close enough to inhale her scent. It’s something fruity. I like it.
“Tomorrow,” I say before turning to open the door for her to exit.
Bailey stands statue-like, hardly breathing. “But—”
“Tomorrow,” I repeat. “Go home and get some rest.”
After what feels like ten minutes, she nods, understanding that there’s nothing more to discuss. She strides through the door. At the top of the stairs, she turns back once more, gives me a hard stare, and then disappears out of my sight.
I’m not sure what the hell this girl is doing to me, but helping her has become my new crazy obsession. Followed by the desire to kiss her. She consumes my thoughts and keeps me up at night. I’m falling apart at the hands of a girl whose presence alone could ruin me.
Yet I can’t find it in me to care.
14
Bailey
I walk out of the office shaking, my legs wobbling beneath me. What the hell was that? I’m not even sure what just happened. I went into the office as a bottle service waitress and left as an assistant.
Drew’s assistant.
What the hell am I assisting with? I guess I’ll find out. The thought sends a chill down my spine. Taking a deep breath, I grab the railing and cling to it for dear life. When I hit the bottom, I stride toward Carter.
“What did boss man want?” He smirks at me, not even bothering to hide his inquisition with false pretense. He just keeps wiping the glass in his hand without a care in the world.
“I-I don’t really know,” I say as I bite my lip.
Carter drops the rag in his hand, then places the glass on the bar before he turns to me. His eyebrow rises as he eyes me curiously. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“It was kind of confusing. I thought he was going to fire me for last night, but then he asked if I knew accounting.”
“What’s so confusing about that?”
My thoughts go back to the other night and how he said I was promoted because the customers love me. So why take me off the floor if not because of the screaming match with Harper?
Why is he trying to help me, when, in truth, I should be fired? Nothing makes sense. Unless . . .
“He wants to train me as his assistant,” I whisper, afraid of the reaction I’ll receive.
“Assist him with what exactly?” I can see the amusement in Carter’s smug face.
“Accounting?”
“Is that a question? Are you an accountant?” Carter asks.
“No, I don’t know anything about accounting.” I reach for a rag and start absentmindedly wiping down the counter. I need to keep my hands busy, or they’ll shake from the energy coursing through my body.
“Oh, I see. Interesting.” The dimple in his cheek deepens as the left side of his lip quirks up.
“What do you mean, interesting?” Placing the rag down, I furrow my brow at him.
“Well, first, he appoints you as the new bottle server, and now, he wants you as his assistant. An assistant for a skill you have no knowledge of. That’s interesting,” he replies.
“It’s really no big deal.” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. It’s a huge deal.
Not wanting Carter to continue this conversation, I turn my back and get my stuff. As much as I love Carter, I don’t need him to continue his inquisition. Not because I’m nervous that he’ll spill, but these walls have ears, and the last thing I need is a bunch of bullshit rumors circulating about me. Oh, there will be rumors.
I notice Carter is still staring at me, a massive grin on his face. I want to smack it right off.
“Where’re you going?” The teasing nature of the question has my hackles rising.
“Home.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been replaced so that I can prepare for my new role.”
He snorts. “Of course. Because being Drew’s assistant needs preparation.”
“You’re an ass,” I tell him with little conviction.
“Someone wants a piece of yours.” Carter is clearly amused.
I roll my eyes. “Lame, and totally not accurate. I have skills, and he wants to put them to work.” I cringe once I’ve finished that sentence. I’m really not helping myself.
“Oh, I have no doubt he wants to know all about those skills. Not just know them, but test them, too. He has never once needed an assistant before you walked in the door. Drew wants you.”
At that, I grab my stuff and head out the door. I won’t feed into Carter’s prying. My sister’s warning—and Carter’s too—comes to mind, and I start to panic.
I need this job. No matter how intriguing Drew Lawson may be, this job means more to me, and I can’t let my hormones screw things up. This line of thinking makes me crave things I shouldn’t be craving.
This is dangerous.
I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the pitch-black room. The chime from an incoming text pulls me from sleep. When I’m just awake enough to grab my phone, I see it’s from Carter. He’s never texted me. Mostly because at this time of night, we’re typically together.
I type in the code, unlocking the screen to view his words.
Fuck.
Based on the near incoherent garble, I know he’s in bad shape. The question is, where is he? Glancing at the clock, I see it’s 5:00 a.m. Well past closing. I quickly hit send, calling him.
“B-Bae,” he slurs, sounding even worse than his text would’ve displayed.
“Carter,
where are you?” I ask, trying not to sound angry.
That wouldn’t help in this situation. If he’s reaching out to me in this kind of shape, he’s obviously looking for support. Having been in his shoes too many times, I’m more than willing to be that person for him. He’s come to mean a lot to me in a short time, and if I can help pull him from his addictions, I’ll do everything I can.
“A building. Work . . . tired.” His words are spoken in staccato, hardly making sense, but having been an addict, it’s somehow easier for me to decipher. Probably from years of reviewing my own text.
“Stay put. I’m coming for you,” I say before ending the call and jumping from bed.
I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, grabbing my keys and shoes on my way. I’m practically hopping on one foot as I put my tennis shoe on while shutting the door behind me. From what I could gather, he’s somewhere close to work, and he’s likely outside.
I hail the first taxi I can, which takes damn near ten minutes. My legs are bouncing as the adrenaline pumps through my system. The fact he could speak any words gives me some measure of relief, but I’m still nervous for my friend.
The taxi driver is none too thrilled that I am on a wild goose hunt, but when I continue to throw five-dollar bills at him, that’s enough for him to comply.
“There,” I say, pointing at Silver, where Carter sits hunched against the building.
I wince, knowing this place has several cameras, and Drew will likely see Carter’s state. I pay the cabbie twenty extra dollars to wait for me.
“Carter?” I whisper, and his head tilts up to look at me. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. He’s wearing the standard-issued Silver employee T-shirt, and my stomach drops when I see a pill container.
It feels like there is a vice around my heart and the longer I stare at it, the tighter it gets.
We need to get out of here. I need to leave.
As much as I don’t want to touch it, I have to. I can’t leave pills on the street. Once in my hand, it feels heavy.
It’s not, though.
