Shaking off the unusual pangs of lust, she fished around in her bag. Removing her leather portfolio, she found her wallet trapped inside. It was basically empty, except for a handful of coins. Enough to buy a coffee and not much else. The confidence she’d been trying to cultivate a moment ago disintegrated to dust. She was sick of mooching off her friend, sick of feeling like a failure. Sick of wondering if she was wasting her time trying to make it here.
If she kept going like this, she’d barely be able to pay her phone bill, let alone put money aside for rent.
An accountant who can’t even manage her own money—no wonder you haven’t got a job.
If only she hadn’t been in such a rush to pay down her student debt. At the time, it had seemed the responsible thing to do when she’d landed the job of her dreams…but now she was wishing that she hadn’t been so presumptuous. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might not make it past her probation period.
“Hi there.”
Paige startled at the deep baritone. When she looked up, her gaze snagged on the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Long-lost Hemsworth, indeed. The bottom half of his body pleased her as much as the top half. Fitted jeans clung to well-muscled legs, and motorcycle boots gave him a cool, bad-boy vibe. Strong thighs and lean hips had her mouth watering.
Cool your jets, Thomas. Let’s keep those hormones in check, okay?
Not exactly an easy thing to do since it’d been a long time between drinks. Her last boyfriend had been a sweet guy. A little too sweet, especially in bed. And she hadn’t exactly been beside herself when he’d announced he was moving away to follow his dreams of being a Flying Doctor, which said something. He certainly didn’t get her engine revving the way Mr. Sexy-Pants Barista did.
“Hi.” She tucked her leather portfolio under one arm and smiled.
“Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out, and she reacted without thinking, sliding her palm against his. “Thanks for being able to make it on such short notice.”
Paige blinked. He’d obviously gotten her mixed up with someone else. But a little part of her—a particularly southern part—was willing to be anyone he wanted if he would keep talking in that sexier-than-sin voice of his.
“We’ll grab a seat over there.” He gestured toward an intimate booth on the far wall, where a small stack of papers and a water bottle sat. “We’re desperate for someone to start soon, so I really hope you know your way around a coffee machine.”
His eyes lingered on her portfolio and it hit her. He thought she was here to interview for a job. Paige hesitated for a second before following him to the booth. “I do, actually.”
What the hell are you doing? This is someone else’s job interview—are you mad? The real person could walk in here at any minute and then what? You say, “Oops sorry about that”? Not to mention this isn’t even the type of job you’re looking for!
“So, tell me about your experience, Louisa. Or do you prefer Lou?” The sexy barista leaned back in the booth, his wide shoulders dwarfing the space. He raked a hand through his wavy blond hair, and Paige almost salivated at the flex of one perfectly rounded bicep. It was almost enough to distract her from the fact that she was stealing an interview from some poor girl named Louisa. “I know you emailed a copy of your résumé, but our printer is busted, unfortunately.”
Moment of truth, Paige. Now’s your chance to come clean and get your butt the hell out of here before you make a mistake. This is not what you want. Not even close.
The perfectionist in her was having a heart attack. Getting a job as a barista would be a step backward. But it wasn’t like she was swimming in opportunities. And now Sally would be moving out, leaving her without a place to live. If she didn’t find something in the next few weeks she’d be headed home, a failure…unless she could buy herself more time.
“Well,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and dodging his question about her name, “my parents run a café back home and I’ve been working there since I was a kid. I absolutely know my way around a coffee machine.”
The extra cash would keep her going so she could buy groceries without decimating her bank account further. And it would give her something to do that didn’t involve having to mentally beat herself up while she searched for an accounting job. Plus, it might help her meet more people in what she hoped would be her new—and permanent—hometown.
At least she knew that this was one interview she could absolutely nail. It wasn’t a bad idea at all. A temporary Band-Aid to her financial situation.
Now all she had to do was ensure her parents didn’t find out.
…
Noah sat at the table and watched the gorgeous woman in front of him, trying to put his finger on what had his intuition tingling. She seemed older than he’d assumed based on their phone call. More mature. Mid-twenties rather than early.
And then there was her outfit. A cream blouse made the freckles stand out against her fair skin, and a floaty black skirt highlighted her slim waist. It was an outfit made for the corporate world. Not to mention the fancy-looking leather binder that sat on the table in front of her…and the towering black stilettos on her feet that were better suited to the bedroom than behind the bar. If she’d worked as a barista surely she would know that. But then again, it was an interview. Not a shift.
He rubbed his hand at the back of his neck. “So you’re familiar with a real espresso machine? We don’t serve any of that push-button crap here.”
Her button nose wrinkled in disgust. “I should hope not.”
Noah chuckled. “You’re a coffee snob, then?”
“It’s part of the job, isn’t it?” She smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. Was she nervous? This was hardly a grueling interview.
“Absolutely.” His gaze smoothed over her face, noting the twitch of her lips and the way her throat muscles worked as she swallowed. “What’s the worst thing you can do when making an espresso?”
Her tongue darted out to run across her lower lip, leaving it plump and shiny-looking. “There are lots of ways to make a bad coffee but I would say not getting enough grounds into the filter or not tamping them correctly. There’s nothing worse than a watery espresso.”
So far so good. “How do you feel about sweet syrups in coffee?”
“I feel that whatever the customer wants is fine by me.” A smile tugged at the corner of the lips. “But if you’re asking whether or not I like them personally, the answer is no.”
“What’s your specialty?”
She thought for a second, her bottom lip rolling between her teeth in a way that made something hum deep inside him. “All my coffees are equally good, but I’m partial to a cappuccino.”
“Excellent.” He bobbed his head. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. She certainly seemed to know what she was talking about. “Your résumé indicated you were still studying last time we talked. Which university was it, again?”
Something akin to panic flashed across her face. “Well, about that…”
“Go on.”
“Actually, I’ve already graduated.” She cleared her throat. “I have a Bachelor of Commerce with a major in accounting.”
He blinked. “Have I missed something?”
“Not at all. You need someone who knows the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, and I need money.”
“Aren’t accountants usually good at finding money?”
“I should clarify, I’m an unemployed accountant. Turns out securing a job in Melbourne is a little harder than I anticipated.” Something flickered across her face, but it was quickly replaced with a dazzling smile.
He sighed. “You’re not Louisa Driscoll, are you?”
The woman shook her head. “Paige Thomas, at your service.”
“Let me get this straight.” Noah tried to wrap his head around what’d happened. “You walked in here and stole someone’s job interview?”
Paige looked around the mostly empty seating area. “
I don’t see your other candidate anywhere. If she didn’t turn up, then I haven’t stolen anything.”
“That is bloody ballsy.” He slid out of the booth, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve had your fun. Thanks for wasting my time.”
“Please.” She followed him, her heels clicking across the wooden floor as she tried to match his stride. “Everything I’ve said is true. I’ve worked in a café since I was fifteen. I know coffee and I know customer service. You said you were desperate, and so am I.”
“You’re looking for something temporary while you find an accounting job?”
“Bingo.”
While he admired her gusto, it wasn’t exactly an ideal arrangement. What if he hired her now and ended up being back at square one next week?
“I need someone that I can rely on.” He motioned for his afternoon part-timer to come over. “Pip, I’m waiting on a Louisa Driscoll. She’s got an interview about our barista position.”
Pip’s eyes darted from Noah to Paige and back again. “Didn’t Libby tell you?”
“Tell me what?” He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what she was going to say next.
“She called to say she wouldn’t be coming in. Libby made a note in the communications diary.”
Shit. He kept forgetting that damn thing. Couldn’t people talk to one another instead of writing everything down in some stupid book?
Paige’s eyes lit up. “See, you do need me.”
“I can’t hire someone only to lose them straightaway,” he said. “And you might think that this is a stepping-stone, but we need reliable people here. I’m sorry.”
She looked at him, crestfallen. And damn if that expression wasn’t a punch to his gut. But Des was counting on him to do a good job, and hiring a cute girl who was already one foot out the door wasn’t a smart move.
“I understand,” she said. “Thanks for your time. I don’t suppose you could point me in the direction of the bathroom?”
He jerked his head toward the ladies’ room in the back corner of the restaurant, and she walked away from him. It was impossible not to watch her black skirt swish against her bare legs, which looked long and lean thanks to the pencil-thin heels on her shiny black shoes.
Not a good enough reason to hire her.
Shit. Now he was going to have to call Cupcake Latte Girl and offer her the job. He went back to the booth and shuffled through the résumés, locating the correct one. He tapped the number into his phone and waited. She answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“This is Noah calling from First Bar and Restaurant,” he said, his eyes still lingering on the door to the women’s bathroom. “Do you have a second to talk?”
“Oh, uh…” Pause. “I was about to call you. I wanted to say thanks for the chance to interview, but I’ve accepted another job.”
Noah dropped his head into his hand. “Oh really?”
“They called a few minutes ago, and it’s part-time with fixed hours. So uhh…it’ll be much easier for my university schedule.”
“I see.” His fingers pressed into his temple. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Just fucking great. If this wasn’t proof that he should stick to what he was good at—working with employees after they were hired—then he didn’t know what was. He ended the call and dropped his phone onto the table. There wasn’t a single other candidate who’d even been able to successfully make a coffee using their machines. He didn’t have time to train someone from scratch. He needed a skilled person. Now.
The door to the woman’s bathroom swung open and Paige walked out, but instead of heading toward the front door she was coming straight for him, a determined look on her face.
The woman was ballsy. Confident. Two qualities he admired greatly. But that didn’t mean he should hire her.
“I bet I can make you the best coffee you’ve ever had,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “If I’m right, then you hire me.”
He pushed up from the booth and folded his arms across his chest. “Did you just bet me for a job?”
“I did.” She squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. But for all her confidence, her breath stuttered ever so slightly. “I’ll bet you that I can make the best damn coffee that’s ever passed your lips.”
“That’s a bold statement.”
“Are you scared I’ll be right?” She stuck her hand out. “Or maybe you’re not a betting man.”
The laugh that rumbled deep in his chest took him by surprise. This exchange was the most fun he’d had since Des had put him in this goddamn position. “A bet for a job.”
“A chance to prove myself, that’s all I need.” Her hand hung in the air, undeterred by his reluctance. “You’ll see.”
What the hell did he have to lose? It wasn’t like he had another candidate ready to go. And he could always re-advertise the position knowing that she probably wouldn’t stick around anyway. At this point, even having someone for a week would ease the burden.
Besides, he was a betting man.
“Fine.” He clasped her hand. “You’re on.”
He motioned for them to go behind the bar and she followed him, her spiked heels clicking on the wood flooring. That sound was going to haunt his dreams, he was sure of it. As they walked, Noah caught sight of one of his customers staring, openly admiring her. Not surprising. Paige was sex on a stick in a kind of girl-next-door way.
A low whistle cut through the air, followed by laughter. A group of young guys in suits were drinking beers in one of the booths, and they all had their heads turned in Paige’s direction. She was cute as hell, there was no denying that, but usually the customers of First were well behaved…well, at least at this time of day.
He shot the group a stern look. “So,” he said, holding the partition open that led to the staff area. “You really have worked in a café before?”
“My parents own a café back home, that’s no word of a lie.” She rattled off the name of the place, but he’d never heard of it. Noah was a city guy through and through.
“You’re a country girl, then?”
“Born and raised.” She grinned.
“I’ll let you do your thing,” he said, stepping out of the way. “If you need to know where something is, just ask.”
“Got it.” She turned and immediately picked up the single-shot portafilter.
That’s when Noah understood why everyone had been staring at her. The fabric of her black skirt was tucked up into the waistband of her underwear, exposing the perfectly rounded curve of her butt. A piece of black lace held the skirt in place, and he had perfect line of sight from the firm, pale flesh right down to the pencil-thin point of her heels. Fuck. That was a vision of heaven if he’d ever seen one.
He sucked in a breath and tried to figure out how to tell her with coming off like a creep. “Uhh, you have—”
“I’ve got it under control,” she said, pulling on the grinder tab. “You just stand back and watch.”
He cringed at her choice of words. In any other situation he would have loved to watch, but this was still technically an interview and he was playing boss. “I really think…”
She shot him a look over her shoulder that silenced him. “Trust me, I got this.”
“Okay.” Who was he to interrupt a woman on a mission?
She leaned forward to scrape the excess coffee grounds into the knock box. The action made her bend at the hips, thrusting her ass ever so slightly up. Noah felt his blood migrate south, and he adjusted himself.
Show’s over. Look away now.
He cleared his throat and moved farther along the bar so he could watch her make the coffee from an angle that didn’t tempt him with all that bare skin. The coffee was already coming out of the spout on the portafilter.
“Nice crema,” he said, peering over to have a closer look. The scent of perfume on her skin—something honey-like blended with flowers—mixed with the scent of the freshly brewed coffee. The com
bination was heady and distinct, and his body reacted positively.
“Thanks.” She looked pleased.
He waited until she’d steamed the milk, pouring it into the wide cappuccino cup with deft back-and-forth movements that created an intricate leaf design. It was the kind of coffee that people would photograph and put on Instagram. If it tasted good, he’d have no choice but to give her a job.
“Here you go.” She handed it over, an eager look on her face. “Now, what did you want to tell me?”
There was a very slight hint of smugness that made his lip twitch. “Your skirt is caught in your underwear.”
The blood drained from her face, her hands immediately reaching behind her to untangle the frothy fabric. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I tried.” This time he wasn’t able to hold the laughter in. “You told me to stand back and watch.”
“That’s not funny.” She smoothed her hands down the skirt and twisted around to make sure she’d gotten it all.
“It really is.”
Red fanned across her cheeks, bringing out the vivid rings of green around her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. “Can this day get any worse?”
“Don’t worry.” He stifled a grin and blew on the steam rising up from his drink. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Can you drink the damn cappuccino and put me out of my misery?” She shook her head and smoothed her hand over her light brown hair. “Please.”
He obliged and had to stifle a moan of pure ecstasy. “You really do know your way around an espresso machine. The texture is perfect, the foam is perfect, the taste…” His words dissolved into a satisfied hmmm.
“Best coffee ever, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Let’s not go too far.”
“But I’ve got the job?”
He searched her face for any signs that she might be trying to pull a fast one on him. Noah didn’t believe in the kind of “it’s meant to be” crap that people posted with pretty backgrounds on Facebook. But the universe really had sent him exactly what he needed. It made him wary. Nothing in life was ever handed to him on a silver platter.
“If I hire you, I need you to stay for at least a month,” he said.
Betting the Bad Boy (Behind the Bar) Page 2
