by Gina Drayer
Although, it was odd that Janet would send a message this late. It was possible that there was some news—maybe Christian had accepted a deal. The thought was comforting, the way magical thinking always was, but more likely, Janet wanted to go over documents.
Trying not to get her hopes up, she refocused on the job at hand. She might be closer to a resolution, but that didn’t mean things were ever going to be the same.
Part of her knew that after everything was said and done, she could never go back to her old life. As time went on, Lee was finding it increasingly difficult to remember why she’d thought it was so important that Christian be brought to justice.
She’d thought things would be so different. She’d imagined bringing the truth to light was a good thing all by itself.
How naive she’d been.
It seemed that justice was a fickle bitch. She was the good guy in this scenario. So why was she the one being punished?
“Is everything okay?” Dylon asked when she returned to the bar. “If you need to take that call”—his eyes flicked to the pocket in her apron—“I can handle things.”
“It’s just my mom,” Lee said. “I can call her back tomorrow.”
She turned to go the back, but his soft, breathy plea stopped her. “Lee. Talk to me. If you’re in trouble—”
“I’m fine,” she said, spinning around to meet his questioning gaze. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment over the lies she kept telling this man. “I’m fine,” she said again, softly.
Lee could see he wasn’t fooled by her quick assurance. His eyes narrowed, and he nodded his head slightly to where she was unconsciously rubbing her bruised arm. But thankfully, he didn’t press the issue.
“I’m here if you need me. No questions asked,” he said and turned back to the bar.
Yes, despite all his flaws, Dylon was a good man. The kind of man who helped people instead of cheated them. The kind that would be her rock if she let him. Unfortunately, seeing his good qualities made her like him even more, and the truth was that the bubble of desire she felt for him was becoming hard to keep below the surface.
The problem wasn’t just hormones, the way his nearness aroused something visceral inside her. No, she could ignore that. She’d worked with hot guys before without feeling the need to act. The problem was that her feelings about the man had changed. He wasn’t just the playboy bartender anymore. He was the caring boss. The thoughtful neighbor. The friend she desperately needed.
It was slippery territory. As she began to wrap silverware in the back, she couldn’t help but think that if she approached it right, she could explore those feelings in a purely physical relationship. He didn’t want anything more than sex. They could share a night—or four—of passion that would clear the air and ease the sexual tension between them.
That small voice in the back of her mind was getting louder. It was trying to convince her that a meaningless affair with him would help her cover. That would make her story even more complete, and people would stop asking where she was from and why she was working at Bernadette's. And as a bonus, she wouldn’t be completely alone.
But as the night went on, she wasn’t sure that would even be an option. Lee kept sneaking glances at Dylon. He’d spent the night chatting with Michael and nursing a beer. The two were deep in conversation and Lee had time to study him.
He hadn’t said more than a few words to her since Sarah left. Brooding and standoffish anytime she approached the bar, Dylon’s attitude was a far cry from his normal welcoming disposition. The colorful ink that ran up and down his thick biceps popped against the black shirt he wore. She couldn’t help but remember his clean, masculine scent, or his hot breath against her cheek when he whispered in her ear. She’d felt …content.
She tried to convince herself that’s all it was—a desire to be held and feel safe again. She saw Dylon’s warmth and confidence and knew that just having his strong arms around her would make everything feel better.
As she carried the tray of rolled silverware to the hostess station under Dylon’s watchful eyes, Lee was more confused than ever. She’d been trying to keep him at arm’s length, but now that she’d decided maybe there could be more, he didn’t seem to be interested. Maybe she’d misread the entire situation.
Lee shook her head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. She wasn’t thinking straight. Being around him, being aware of his body near hers muddled her brain, but knowing that didn’t help her untangle things. Her heart and mind weren’t working in harmony—they were warring inside her.
These roller coaster emotions were exhausting.
“I’m going to take my break now,” she said, not waiting for a response.
Lee went out through the fire door in the back of the kitchen and into the alley behind the bar. Despite the warning sign, DO NOT OPEN ALARM WILL SOUND, the alarm was busted, and it was a convenient way to slip out for a break. The night air was fresh and cool against her overheated flesh, and it felt good to step away for a second or two.
She remembered the call and took out her phone. There was one new text message from an unknown caller. She clicked on it, thinking it might be Janet, but it wasn’t. The message was short and to the point.
You can’t hide forever, bitch.
Her heart pounded. That bastard Christian had the new phone number. She shut off the phone and pried open the back to get at the SIM card, and shoved the pieces back into her apron.
There was only one way Christian could have gotten that number—from Janet. Either she’d given it to him either on purpose, which was scary enough, or Christian had a longer reach than she’d imagined possible. That was even more terrifying.
Lee stood in the shadows for a long time, getting control of herself before going back into Bernadette’s. She didn’t want to give Dylon any more reason to worry. She gave him what she called her client smile—the forced cheerful grin that keeps people from asking too many questions.
She didn’t want him to ask. There was nothing she could tell him anyway, even though she ached to talk to someone. She longed for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. And now she wasn’t even sure she could talk to Janet. There was a leak in the attorney’s office. For all Lee knew, it was Janet herself.
Lee returned from her break and went back to work, making small talk and taking orders. She had a bright smile on, but Dylon could tell something had happened during those fifteen minutes. He’d bet good money that it had to do with that phone call. Her mother. Yeah, right.
He shouldn’t care. He’d offered his help, not once, but twice, and she’d turned him down flat. Whatever trouble she was in was her own business.
“So what’s your problem with Lee?” Michael asked.
“Problem? I don’t have a problem.”
“Then why are you glowering at her like you’re pissed?” Michael nodded in her direction. “Can’t you see that it’s bothering her?”
“I’m not glowering. She’s a new employee. I’m just keeping an eye on her.”
“Dylon, you flirt and chat up every other woman in the place. Everyone but Lee, and you’ve been avoiding her tonight, to the point of being outright rude. You don’t think she noticed? You don’t think she wonders what the fuck that’s about?”
“After Claudia, I’m trying to I keep clear boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” Michael laughed, shaking his head. “Normally, I’d congratulate you and tell you that’s healthy. But you two have been circling each other like starving animals ever since she started. You’re into her, and she’s definitely got a thing for you.”
“I doubt it,” Dylon said watching her with another customer. “I’m not her type.”
“Oh, really. Don’t you think it’s odd that she spends her free time hanging out at the bar?”
“She lives upstairs,” he told Michael as he cracked open another beer.
“And she doesn’t know where the door is?” he said raising a brow. “She’s not going to wait forever. The way sh
e looks, and with her sweet personality, you know she gets offers.”
Michael stopped wiping down the bar and watched her. Lee was bent over picking up a dropped item. Her perfect heart-shaped ass stuck straight up in the air like a live pin-up show.
“She’s a knockout.” Michael whistled under his breath. “Just look at that ass. And she works in a bar—a place guys go looking for girls. That woman could go out every night of the week without spending a penny. But she doesn’t. She hangs out here with your sorry ass.”
“She might be particular about who she spends time with,” Dylon said.
Michael shrugged. “I’m telling you, she has a thing for you. And you’re not fooling anyone with this boundaries shit. The way you’ve been watching her, like a predator ready to pounce, I’d say it’s just a matter of time. So why don’t you make a move?”
Dylon shook his head. “Not after Claudia. I can’t put my business in that kind of situation again.”
“She isn’t Claudia. Claudia was trouble from the start.”
“Lee might be worse trouble.” Dylon recalled his reaction to seeing the bruises on her arms. He was ready to kill the asshole who’d hurt her. Lee wasn’t like Claudia. Claudia caused her own trouble. Lee, on the other hand, had trouble following her and that was a whole lot more dangerous. “She’s got a secret. There’s something in her past that is going to catch up to her. I really don’t need to complicate my life any more than it is now. Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t belong here.”
“She seems to be doing fine. Everyone likes her—a lot.”
“She’s overqualified for this gig. I can smell a college education all over her.”
“I see.” Michael chuckled and tossed the rag into the sink. “She intimidates you. You think she might be the kind of girl who knows her own mind. What’s the matter, can’t get it up for a brainy chick?”
“This is why I never talk to you about shit. Look, a girl like that might be fun to bed, just for the novelty, but she’s not going to stick around.”
And maybe that was it, Dylon realized. He knew the second Lee fixed whatever had gone wrong in her life, she’d split. Just like his mother. And he’d be left alone at the bar once again, wondering why he wasn’t enough to keep her around.
“But that’s a good thing. If she doesn’t hang around, then she is exactly like the other chicks you bang. And as far as complicating your life”—Michael leaned back against the bar and folded his arms over his wide chest—“she’d have to hang around to do that.”
“It’s just not a good idea.”
Suddenly, Michael started to laugh. “You like her. Fucking hell, that’s what’s going on. You are afraid that if you make a move, you will fall hard. And you don’t do that.”
“That’s a bunch of shit. I’m just not interested.” The objection was a reflex.
Michael didn’t respond. He just stared at Dylon, waiting for a more detailed denial. The sad thing was Dylon couldn’t deny it because Michael had hit on the truth.
“Even if that’s true—and I’m not saying it is— making a move would mean getting involved with an employee again. It’s a complication I should avoid.”
“Not a very big one. Besides, Lee isn’t just another barfly and that alone makes it complicated.” Michael leaned back against the cooler and crossed his arms, about to dish out some unwanted truth. “Face it, man. You’ve never had to work for it. We’re bartenders. It’s easy to pick off the weak of the herd and stay fat. Lee’s the kind of girl you’re going to have to chase. Maybe you’re just not up for the challenge.”
Dylon finished his beer. “Thanks for the vote of support.”
“Anytime.” Michael looked at Lee again and sighed. “And I’ll give you a little advice for free … you might have your reasons for giving Lee this iceberg routine, but look at the guys in here. Most of them would jump her bones in a heartbeat. I guarantee that if you don’t, someone else will.” He nodded toward a table and Dylon turned to see her chatting with a customer. “There’s a likely candidate. The well-dressed guy with some style. Looks like he might be a big tipper.”
Dylon felt a stab of something in his gut. Longing? Fear? Jealousy? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
“You think I’m being cold to her?”
“I’m saying you are going out of your way to be fucking rude, dude. If you want to draw a line in the sand, fine, but you owe it to the woman to find a balance point. Being nice doesn’t have to lead to fucking her, although you probably don’t experience that as often as the rest of us.”
“Fuck off,” Dylon said.
But Michael was right. He needed to rethink things. Distance and coldness weren’t the same. Surely he could be friendly and still keep away. Maybe.
Michael tapped on the bar to get his attention. “You want to put some distance between you and Lee? I’m looking at a really nice buffer, all soft and cuddly looking.”
Dylon turned and saw a tall blonde walk up to the bar. She was exactly the kind of girl he went for. She was likely the kind of woman that would be fun for a time, and leave without angst or complications.
She looked around behind the bar. “Who does a girl talk to about getting a stiff drink around here?”
Michael grinned at Dylon and raised his eyebrows. “That’d be me.”
She looked him over. “Good, because I could enjoy talking to you.” She leaned against the bar. “About my need for a drink, I mean.”
“What can I get you?”
“Right now? How about a whiskey sour?”
“Coming up,” Michael said and began mixing the drink. “And I think you said you like it stiff?”
“I definitely prefer them stiff.”
Michael poured up the drink, and when he pushed it over to her, she put her hand on his. “You’re good with your hands.”
“Well, I’m a firm believer in doing things right so I practice a lot.” Michael glanced over at Dylon and smiled. “Have you met Dylon? He owns this place.”
As the blonde turned her attention to him, Dylon saw Michael mouth “you owe me one” behind her back.
“My name is Claira.” She leaned forward and her low-cut dress gave him a good view of the tops of her soft white breasts. He let his eyes linger on them, knowing she was aware of where he was looking and encouraging it.
“I’ve seen you before, and I’m surprised you’re alone tonight.”
“Really? And did you mean surprised or are you pleased?”
“Maybe just curious. After all, I know that a sexy woman like you doesn’t have to be alone in a bar if she doesn’t want to be.”
She picked up her drink and sipped it, wiggling her hips. “Sexy? You think I’m sexy?”
Dylon shot her his best flirty grin and was pleased when she preened under his attention. “You don’t have to play coy with me,” he said. “You know you are sexy. Every guy in the five boroughs knows it.”
“My, such a sweet talker.” Her face flushed slightly. On her, it looked forced and unnatural, unlike the pretty blushes that always colored Lee’s cheeks when he complimented her. Dylon pushed the thought aside and focused on Claira.
“So what brings you here tonight?”
“A guy I was out with brought me here a few weeks ago. When I saw what this place had to offer, I knew I’d have to come back. Let’s just say, an item on display made me think twice about my current selection.”
He wasn’t really into the game tonight. He glanced over at Lee, who was standing in the doorway to the back, watching them. “So you saw something on display you liked?” Dylon asked, still watching Lee over Claira’s shoulder.
“Right here on the showroom floor, darling.” Claira pressed a hand on his arm, and Lee turned around, disappearing into the back.
“You’ve been in a few times,” he said, focusing back on the conversation. Claira was a cute girl, but she didn’t interest him in the least.
“You noticed,” she said, perking up.
“I did. I also noticed you were with different guys.”
“Of course. A girl needs to look a few times before she buys and it always helps to bring along a similar model to compare.”
“And is that why you’re here? Are you interested in trying on something new?”
“This goes in stages. I’m thinking I’d like to unwrap it to see how it looks and if that goes well, maybe try it on, find out if it feels nice.”
Dylon was used to women blatantly coming on to him. But this time, he found the woman’s obvious sexual advances a big turn-off. Michael’s advice had merit. He was trying to avoid Lee, and the best solution was to be involved with another woman—one that fit into his life better. The blonde promised a pleasant interlude. She’d be a fun distraction for a time without turning his life upside down. She’d made it clear that she was after a good time—and his practiced eye told him that she’d be a hellcat in bed. But there was something off. Something keeping him from jumping in.
Lee walked to the bar with the new drink order. She looked at the woman leaning into him, sipping her stiff drink and resting her hand on his, and her eyebrows lifted. She saw what was happening, but didn’t comment.
He ignored Lee and stared lustily at Claira, knowing Lee was watching. If he intended to make something happen, it was time to close the sale. “If you could hang around until closing, we could continue this discussion. At length.”
She grinned. “I like things at length, especially when the length is substantial.”
Lee put her order on the bar. “Michael, I need two bottles of Bud and a Tom Collins.” He saw her eyes flare when the woman’s hand brushed Dylon’s cheek. “Can you put a rush on that? My table is in a hurry.”
“Oh, since you are mixing up a few, could you make me another of your delightful drinks?”
