by Donna Hill
She pushed through the doors of Mercury and immediately felt the pulse of energy that flowed throughout the lavish space. She had to admit, Vincent had transformed what was once a three-story warehouse into one of the hottest spots in Baton Rouge. Every detail from the arrangement of the seating, the lights, private dining rooms, linens, live music, top-shelf liquor and mouthwatering cuisine to the hardworking and devoted staff combined to outshine every other club in the area. Although this was not her “dream job” she was happy to be part of the success and actually looked forward to coming to work. Not everyone could say the same thing. The only glitch in the program was the come-on by Vincent. That threw her for a loop and created a feeling of awkward tension—at least for her. Now, instead of seeking Vincent out for updates about Mercury and general conversation, she tried to avoid him, and it didn’t feel good.
Bailey smiled and waved hello to the staff members that she passed on her way to her office. She had about fifteen minutes before she needed to hit her spot behind the bar, and she wanted to do a quick review of the weekly staffing schedule and the status of the private party.
She went into her office and closed the door behind her, thankful that she hadn’t run into Vincent in the narrow hallway. Quickly, she booted up her computer and reviewed the schedule and the arrangements for the private party. Everything looked good. The only item outstanding was the confirmed guest list for the party with several RSVPs still outstanding. The final head count would determine staffing. She hoped that the number would come in soon. She shut off her computer, locked her purse in her desk and stuck her cell phone into her pocket and headed out. Her luck was holding out, and she got to her station without running into Vincent.
“Hey, Mellie. How’s it going?” She tied an apron around her waist.
“Busy.” She grinned. “But what else is new on a Friday night? You have a particular glow about you,” she said, looking Bailey up and down. “I bet it’s that fine hunk that put a light in your eyes.”
“Don’t start, Mel.”
“You can tell me, you know,” she said, angling for information.
“I think a customer wants your attention,” she said with a lift of her brow, unwilling to engage in conversation about her and Justin.
Mellie pouted. “Fine. Don’t tell, but I say you hit paydirt landing a man like Justin Lawson.” With that she sauntered down the length of the bar to a waiting customer.
Bailey blew out a breath and shook her head. Paydirt. Addy believed the same thing. But Bailey didn’t want to entertain the idea that Justin was some meal ticket. For her it could never be that. She wouldn’t allow it. Even if Justin could change her entire life and open her world to things she only read about, she wasn’t going down that road. With that thought, the heartbreaking conversation she’d had with Apryl bloomed anew and reaffirmed her commitment to stand on her own. Period. Yet the unequal balance between her and Justin nipped at her conscience.
The steady flow of thirsty and hungry customers kept Bailey busy and totally focused on serving and entertaining those that sat in front of her. She felt on point tonight, exchanging barbs with some of the regulars and making newcomers feel welcomed enough that they would be sure to return. She’d spotted Vincent a few times from across the room, and her stomach tightened from the pensive looks he threw in her direction, but he didn’t make any move to approach her.
It was nearing ten when Mellie sidled up to Bailey. “He’s here,” she teased, and gave Bailey a playful nudge with her elbow.
Bailey’s heart jumped in her chest. She knew exactly who he was without looking because the tiny hairs on her arms had begun to tingle.
Slowly she turned around, and Justin was coming toward her. If she didn’t know better she’d swear the seas parted as he strolled through the room with that confident swagger that only comes from one who knows exactly who they are and what they want. He was looking straight at her as if no one in the entire space existed.
Tonight he was totally casual. His black shirt had three buttons open and was tucked into expertly tailored black slacks, looped by a black lizard belt. He wore a diamond stud in his ear, something he left at home during office hours, and it picked up the light and gleamed against his smooth chocolate skin. He lifted his chin in greeting to Mellie and slid onto an available bar stool.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered for only Bailey’s ears.
She felt like some dumbstruck teen who’d met her rock-star idol.
“Hey.” The smile was in her eyes. “Your usual?”
“Sounds good.”
She turned away toward the shelf of bottles and went about preparing his drink, commanding herself to breathe and focus. She placed his glass of bourbon in front of him, and he intentionally brushed his fingers across hers. Electricity shot up her arm. She moaned.
“Dinner?” she whispered.
“I’ll have plenty to eat when I take you home.”
Her eyes widened for an instant.
Justin lifted the glass to his lips, and she envisioned what those lips could do to her.
“What do you think about that?”
The problem was she couldn’t think, not with him burning a hole through her with his eyes. Her pulse quickened, and she didn’t see Vincent until he was right beside her.
“I want you upstairs,” he barked.
Bailey jerked back. “What?”
“I said I want you upstairs.”
“Why? You have a staff up there and that will leave Mellie alone. We’re busy.”
He lowered his voice and stepped closer. “Last time I checked, this was my establishment. Let Steven know he should come down here.”
Bailey’s nostrils flared, and her skin burned with humiliation that Justin was a witness to her being dressed down.
“Fine.” She couldn’t look at Justin when she walked away. Her feet felt as if she was lifting them out of thick mud while she took the stairs to the upper level.
Unshed tears of humiliated frustration burned her eyes. She blinked them back, pasted on a smile and told Steven that he was needed on the main level. He was shocked but thrilled to have the chance to work the front lines. That’s where all the action happened.
Bailey checked on the seated guests to ensure that their service was up to par then went behind the bar. She knew what Vincent was doing with this little stunt. He wanted to remind her that he could pull the plug whenever he wanted, and there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. If she didn’t need this job so badly, she would walk the hell out and tell Vincent exactly what he could do with himself. But she couldn’t. All she could do for now was count the minutes until her shift was over.
* * *
Justin watched the entire exchange go down between Bailey and her boss with brewing fury. It took everything he had not to reach across the bar and grab that SOB by the collar and throw him onto the floor. He tossed back the remnants of his drink and paid his tab.
His dark eyes scanned the main floor. He spotted Vincent at the hostess podium. He glided off his seat and walked in that direction.
“I want to talk with you for a minute,” he said, coming up behind Vincent.
Vincent turned and came face to chest with Justin. He looked up at the withering glare.
“Can I help you?”
“Why don’t we step over here,” Justin said with a tilt of his head that was away from the hostess.
Vincent pursed his lips. “Of course.”
They stepped over to a quiet corner.
“I’m a friend of Bailey Sinclair. Justin Lawson.”
“And...”
“Man to man. I know why you pulled Ms. Sinclair away from the bar. If you have a thing for Bailey, I can totally understand.” His grin was nasty. “Man to man.” He stepped closer. “She’s taken. And you are not going to
ever speak to her like that again.”
A red flush began at Vincent’s collar and raced to his cheeks. “Just who do you think you are coming into my establishment and telling me how to talk to my employees?”
“I already told you who I am, and I’d rather not have this conversation again—Vincent.” His voice lowered to a mere rumble. “And I’m sure that Ms. Sinclair will have no further problems.” With that he turned and left Vincent standing in place.
The hostess greeted him by name on his way out.
Vincent came up to her. “You know that man?”
She frowned. “Sure. Mr. Lawson. He comes in about two or three times a week. He’s one of the Lawson heirs. Senator Lawson’s son. Is there a problem, Vince? Did he complain about the service?”
He gritted his teeth. “No problem.” He spun away and went directly to his office and shut the door. He turned on his computer and searched for Justin Lawson on Google. Almost instantly, a long list of articles and pictures were displayed about Justin Lawson.
Vincent clicked on the first link. It was an article about Justin Lawson, joining the law firm of Lake, Martin and DuBois, three years earlier. The article went on to detail his family tree and how the legacy of the Lawson name and brand would carry on as Justin was destined to move up the ranks in the legal world, having already made his mark on a major corporate case in his first six months at the firm.
Disgusted and infuriated, Vincent turned off the computer. Not only did Bailey have a man, but a man like Justin Lawson that could buy and sell him on a whim, too—one word from him and he could dry up Vincent’s business.
Vincent wasn’t a man used to feeling impotent. He worked too hard to get to where he was to have some privileged pretty boy millionaire ruin all that he’d accomplished—over a woman. Even if that woman was Bailey. Defeat wasn’t an emotion that he’d ever had to deal with, but that’s what he felt. Worse, if he didn’t know before, he knew now that he’d never have a chance with Bailey.
* * *
“Bailey, what in the hell happened with you and Vincent?” Mellie asked in a harsh whisper when Bailey stopped to say good-night.
“Nothing. He just needed some help upstairs.”
Mellie gave her a questioning look. “I didn’t hear what he said, but I saw how he was talking to you. It didn’t look friendly.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mel. Everything is fine.” She forced a tight-lipped smile and made a move to leave.
“Well, it might have been nothing to you, but Justin didn’t seem to take it too kindly.”
Bailey stopped in her tracks. “What are you talking about?” Her heart began to race.
She gave a slight shrug. “He paid his bill right after you left, and I caught a glimpse of him and Vincent talking. That didn’t look like a friendly conversation, either.”
Bailey tried to beat back the thoughts that were running around in her head. If Justin... “See you tomorrow, Mel.”
She stalked toward the exit with every manner of reprimand dancing on her tongue. What was it tonight with the humiliate Bailey routine? First Vincent and now Justin. She already had a good sense about Justin’s take-charge attitude and his penchant for wanting to fix things. She and her life didn’t need fixing!
Bailey pushed through the door with such force that it swung back and banged against the wall. Her eyes lit with anger when they landed on the Benz, reaffirming the undeniable truth of her position in her life. Her shoulders dropped. She blinked rapidly to stem the sting of tears building in her eyes. “Shit!”
And then, like all knights in shining armor, Justin was in front of her.
“Hello,” he said tenderly, so sweet that her heart felt like it was fracturing into a million brilliant pieces.
Her throat tensed and whatever she wanted to spew at him clung there, held back by the gentleness in his eyes and in his touch as he stroked her chin.
“You okay?”
She could only nod, afraid that her voice wouldn’t respond.
“Sure?”
“I am now,” she managed.
He let his finger trail along the curve of her jaw. “Do you need to go home? To see about your sister?”
He was giving her an out if she needed to take it, and the realization softened her even more.
“Apryl said the pain meds knock her out.” Her gaze lifted to meet his magnetic one, and it drew her closer. “She said she would sleep through the night.”
“Perfect.” He leaned in and stroked her lips with his, sending a shiver of need through her limbs.
“Follow me home,” he said against her mouth.
“Okay.”
“I’m parked across the street. Black Navigator.”
She spotted it.
Justin crossed the street. The alarm chirped, and he got in. The headlights illuminated the street—the path that she couldn’t seem to resist taking. She drew in a steady breath, got into the Benz and pulled off behind Justin.
Chapter 15
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll fix us a drink. Wine or something stronger?”
Bailey put her purse on the side table. “Wine. Please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bailey took off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her. Once again, she slowly took in the understated opulence of how Justin and his family lived. It was a lifestyle that had always been out of her reach. And now she could touch it. She could reach out and wrap her fingers around it. Her stomach fluttered. It would be so easy to simply give in.
“Here you go.”
She blinked. Justin handed her the glass of wine.
“Thanks.”
He sat down beside her. She took a sip and sighed with pleasure.
“Love that sound.”
Her lids fluttered open. She looked at him. “What sound?”
“That purring sound that you make in the back of your throat.”
Warmth flowed through her as Justin teased the fine hairs at the back of her neck with his fingertips. If he kept this up, she would come all over herself.
“I didn’t...realize I did that.”
“There is a long list of things that you do that make me crazy.” He angled his body toward hers. “Like the way that tiny pulse flutters in your throat when I get close to you, or the way your lips move, the sway in your hips, the way you pour my drinks, the light that sparks in your eyes when you talk about the law, your laughter, the huskiness in your voice, the brilliance of your mind, the way you move under me when we make love.” His jaw tightened. “The list is long.”
Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession as she tried to breathe. No one had ever spoken to her like that. No man had ever made her feel that she was more than a nice time before moving on. Most couldn’t deal with the luggage that she carried around with her—the responsibility that she felt for her siblings. Would Justin feel the same way once he knew the entire story?
Justin sensed that his “confession” had made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t his intention. He took a sip of his drink. “Hungry?”
She grinned. “Starved.”
He got up and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “I know about some of your talents, Ms. Sinclair. Let’s see how you do in the kitchen.”
“Oh, baby, don’t even go there. I get down in the kitchen.”
“You’re on.”
Bailey took a look in the fridge and cabinets. In short order she’d diced and sliced all the ingredients for a Food Network–worthy omelet, stuffed with spinach, cheddar cheese, shrimp, peppers and spices and cooked light as cotton. She cut up strawberries, kiwi and melon slices and placed them in two small bowls. Then she fixed them both mimosas to go with their late-night, early morning feast.
“Well?” she asked after Justin had taken
his first mouthful.
“Babe...your case...is rested.” He picked up another fork of food and chewed with relish. He pointed his fork toward her self-satisfied grin. “You have skills.”
Bailey giggled. “This is light work. One day maybe I’ll cook a real meal for you.”
“You’re on.” He tasted the mimosa. “Good stuff. Not my usual, but good. Goes down well with the meal.”
“Of course,” she joked. “It’s what I do.” She focused on her plate and then popped a strawberry in her mouth.
Justin watched the shift in her demeanor when she mentioned what she did. He knew where it stemmed from. He wouldn’t push it. But if that piece of work calling himself her boss gave her any more grief, he would have a real problem.
“Hey, we found a location today.”
“You did? Where?”
“Downtown. Nice office spaces. Exactly what we need for now. We should sign the lease this week.”
Bailey beamed. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful. Big step. This makes it real.”
“Yep.”
She scooted her chair closer and covered his hand with hers. “I’m really happy for you. There’s no greater feeling than seeing your dreams materialize.”
“I want to make a difference.”
“You will.”
He leaned in and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of the strawberries on her lips. He wanted more. He lifted a strawberry from his bowl and put it on the tip of his mouth and came to her. She parted her lips and bit down. The sweet juice dribbled over their lips. She sucked the rest into her mouth, and Justin went after it, delving into her mouth with his hungry tongue.
Bailey moaned, and the sound incited him. He threaded his fingers through her tight mass of curls and pulled her to him. Tongues and lips tasted and suckled and danced in and out. He nibbled her bottom lip, and electricity sparked through her. Justin ran his hands down the column of her spine, and her body arched toward him. Her nipples hardened to tight pebbles, and she wanted to free them from the maddening sensation of them brushing against her bra.
