“Slow as fuck tonight and I could use the tips to fix my laptop.” She slid a glass of tequila in front of me. “Cheers.”
“Bottoms up.”
We downed our shots and I handed her my glass.
“You alright there, S?” She smiled crooked as she looked my way.
“All good, and the reason is because your girl was just asked out on a second date by a very hot guy.”
She took two tumblers from the rack and filled mine with rum and then added in Diet Coke.
“Really? I didn’t know that you were seeing anyone. Dish now.”
“Well, I had some car trouble at work and this hot guy appeared before me. He had my car towed, and then he sent me flowers. I had complained a little bit about my training when he dropped me off at home, but then I was at that art gallery Gran used to take me too and he was there. Turns out he owns the building.” I smirked, before popping the cherry from my drink into my mouth.
Her eyebrow arched. “Hold on, you mean to tell me that some rich guy just happened to be at your place of work and then happened to be at the very art gallery you go to once a month?”
“I never said he was rich.”
“Girl, he was golfing or doing God knows what at the Hart Resort and you said he owns the building where Baker’s is housed. That screams rich.”
Probably shouldn’t mention the two cars, the jet or the yacht.
“Judging much?”
She laughed. “I’m not trying to be like that. Tell me more.”
“We got to talking and then one thing led to another and we ended up having a late lunch at Hokaido Grill.”
A shocked laugh ripped from her throat. “Wow, fancy. What’s this guy’s deal?”
My nose wrinkled up. “How do you mean?”
The sound of laughter rang out in the bar, and four men entered. “I’m telling you, boys, this place has the coldest beer in town.”
“Be right back. Keep your ass in that chair.” She pointed at me as she rounded the bar.
After taking a very large gulp, I stirred my drink and stole another cherry from the condiments tray. Propping my elbow on the bar, I rested my chin in my hand. My cheeks heated, and my belly was warm. I really needed to eat.
Krystle appeared and filled four icy mugs with the latest pale ale from the local brewery.
She grinned. “These guys, I’ll get them to stay until close.”
“Yeah, you will.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So did you fuck him yet?”
Her question didn’t catch me off guard. That was Krystle, no filter. “Yep, right there in the bathroom, at the restaurant.”
She took all four mugs in her hands. “No, you didn’t.”
I shrugged, and tossed her a wink. “I’ll give you the details when you come back.”
The guys cheered upon the arrival of their beers. Chris, the guy who ran the kitchen, appeared. Krystle breezed past him, and he took a step forward.
“Do they want any food?”
“I think they’re discussing appetizers. I’ll let you know.”
He smiled, and wound the dish towel he was carrying around his wrist. His gaze flicked to me. “You need anything to eat?”
“I’ll take the coconut chicken fingers basket with honey mustard on the side.”
“I’ll get that started for you, Stevie.”
“Thanks, Chris.”
The guys at the four top called Krystle over once more. I heard someone say, “Let’s get that flatbread pizza, hot wings, and nachos.”
I laughed. I knew Krystle would have those orders upgraded to burgers in an instant.
My phone pinged with a text.
Mom: Just wanted to say hello. I hope you had a good week.
Me: It was a good week. I’m hanging with Krystle at the bar. Call you soon.
Mom: I’ll call you. Love you.
Me: Okay. Love you too.
I sat my phone on the bar, next to my purse. Krystle bounced up to the computer and rang in the order. By the way she was typing I could tell it was a much larger order than the appetizers. She pulled some bottles from the fridge and popped off the caps. Away she went again, delivering more drinks.
“Okay, now tell me more about your guy.” She smirked, wiping her hands on the bar towel. “What’s his name?”
“Jax. He’s an executive at the hotel. Actually, he’s the owner.”
She stared at me eyes wide. “Are you saying the guy is Jackson Hart?”
“Yep, that is what I am saying.”
Krystle leaned on the bar. “You lying little slut.”
I held my hands up in mock surrender. “I swear. I’m not lying. Jackson—Jax, is the guy.”
Krystle rang the bar bell. “Hot damn, girl! Half-price pints and well drinks for the next hour.”
I shook my head and laughed. I peered over my shoulder hearing the cheers. One of the guys held up his hand and signaled for another round.
Chris appeared from the back with my food order in hand. He placed the basket in front of me and instantly my mouth watered. Krystle grabbed a plate and a silverware roll. I dipped a fry into the honey mustard sauce, and popped it into my mouth.
“So where is Jax taking you on your hot date?”
“I don’t know. He said he wanted it to be a surprise, but he did tell me to bring a swimsuit.”
She smiled and leaned against the bar. “It sounds like someone wants to get you all wet and maybe, if you’re lucky, in more ways than one.”
I threw a cocktail napkin at her. “You’re disgusting.”
She shrugged. “A man that fucking hot, he makes panties wet with just a smile.”
Yeah, she was right about that, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of confirming.
THE GLORIOUS SMELL OF COFFEE pulled me from my sleep. I looked at my phone for the time, it was half past eight. No morning yoga for me today.
With my arms stretched over my head, I made my way to the kitchen.
“Morning, sunshine,” Megyn greeted me and slid a mug my way as I walked by the table.
“Hey, how was your weekend away?”
“It was pretty great, I wanted to stay longer but work calls.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back, and I’m glad you had a nice weekend.” I slid into the seat across from her and cradled my mug. “What time did you get in?”
“Around eleven, you were sound asleep.”
“Yeah, I was pretty tired. I ended up working yesterday, and then I went to Quench to see Krystle.” My index finger traced imaginary circles on the smooth tabletop.
“You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked out here.”
My brows shot up. “What?”
She settled back into the chair, eyeing me over her mug. “Who put that permanent grin on your face?”
There was no denying it, I was happy. Mom was home, work was going well, for the most part, and then there was Jax.
“What, a girl can’t just wake up smiling because she’s just happy to be alive?”
She laughed, her beautiful green eyes twinkling. “Did the mice and birds from Cinderella sing to you this morning, too?”
“You know it.”
My phone buzzed, it was a message from Carol warning me of a severe weather alert. I looked around the course. In the distance I saw one foursome packing up their bags.
“Mister and Missus Brandt, I’ve just received word that there is a thunderstorm headed our way. We’re instructed to evacuate the course as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, dear,” she answered, while adjusting her sunglasses. “I believe we’ll play this last hole and then we can go inside.”
I looked at Abby and she shrugged. We continued along the course, hefting their bags over the hill towards the ninth hole.
They both shot a four on the last hole. This one was at least going to be a six for her and at best a four for him. Neither one of them were all that great. And they made it clear that they didn’t want t
o hear any helpful advice we could offer.
Mrs. Brandt’s ball landed just off the green. However, I was having a hard time finding Mr. Brandt’s. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Go on, honey, you take your shots while this one helps me find my ball.”
Abby’s hand flew to her mouth and Mrs. Brandt side-eyed her.
“I think a bug flew into my mouth,” she coughed, and made a sour face.
Mrs. Brandt yanked the club from Abby’s grip. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Brandt drop a ball onto the ground approximately one hundred fifty four yards give or take from the green. “Here it is. Here’s my ball!”
“That’s great, Mister Brandt,” I called out, clapping my hands together. “You have a pretty good shot from there. I bet you can make it in three strokes with ease.”
After hefting his bag onto my shoulder, I walked towards him. I placed his bag in front of him, and he gripped each club finally settling on the seven iron.
Totally the wrong choice, but I wasn’t going to correct him. I stood with my hands behind my back, watching Mrs. Brandt swing and miss. “That doesn’t count, young lady, you hear me?”
Abby through her hands up in mock surrender. “It’s fine, ma’am. Take your time.”
Mr. Brandt stood beside me, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his club. “I’m sorry about my wife. She can be very difficult.”
I smiled at him. “I think she’s lovely.”
He laughed. “You lie. You should be a sales person, not a golf caddy.”
Takes one to know one, you ball dropping cheater. “I don’t plan to caddy forever, sir.”
The wind kicked up and whipped the flag as Abby fought to hold it still. The storm was coming over the water quickly.
My phone buzzed, and I lifted it from my pocket. Jax’s name appeared on the screen with a message: I need you and Abby off that course, now. Tell the Brandt’s I’ll buy them dinner at Cranwell’s tonight.
“Uhmm, Mister and Missus Brandt, we’ve been asked to vacate the course. Because of this weather inconvenience, Jax—Mister Hart would like to pay for you dinner tonight at Cranwell’s.”
In the blink of an eye, Mr. Brandt had his club back in the bag and Mrs. Brandt had tossed hers to Abby.
Golf carts zipped along the cart path, and a few remaining guests along with their caddies hustled to seek shelter. I thought it was cool that the resort had both carts and caddies. Even more, I was surprised at the amount of people that chose caddies over carts.
I sent a quick text back to Jax as we power walked back to the Clubhouse.
Me: How did you know that would get them off the course?
Jax: They’re the cheapest rich people I know.
Me: We’re headed to the clubhouse now, and the rain isn’t far behind us.
Jax: I’ll meet you in the main lobby.
Smiling, I shoved my phone back into the pocket of my shorts. Looking up I saw the Brandts had made it inside the clubhouse.
“Hurry up, S,” Abby called over her shoulder. She was already past the putting green.
I strapped the bag across my back and hiked up the hill, I felt the cool splash of rain against my arm. I cut left onto the cart path and up the stairs to the terrace. The rain came with a fury and the wind whipped my visor off my head sending it rolling like a tumbleweed across the bricks. It was a lost cause, and that was my favorite one.
“Stevie in here!” I heard Cord calling as he held the door open.
“Did you see Abby by chance?”
“I’m pretty sure she went to the clubhouse.” He lifted the heavy bag out of my grip and set it on the floor. I barely got the door shut, it sounded like rocks crashing over the glass.
“Here,” Cord said, handing me a dry towel.
“Thanks.” I dried off my arms, and squeezed the water from my ponytail.
“You can stay here until the storm passes.”
Cord walked over towards his desk, and started banging away on the keyboard.
“That came in quick, and to make matters worse, the couple we were caddying for wouldn’t get off the course.” I moved to stand near the display of visors, looking for one like the one I just lost.
“Come here, I want to show you some pictures.”
“No thanks, I’m good right here.”
“I won’t bite you, Stevie. I want to show you my new house.”
“Hold your horses. Can’t you see I’m shopping?” I found a visor in my size and took it off the wall. “Congrats on the new house.”
“Thanks.” He clicked on the slide show and the photos began rotating on the screen. On the set of photos that showed the bedroom I felt his hand smooth up my leg. I jumped back, but not before slapping his face.
“Fuck Stevie!” He rubbed at his cheek. “That hurt.”
“You don’t get to touch me like that, ever,” I snapped.
“Hey, I was just messing around.”
“Fuck you,” I spat, and tossed the visor at him.
He took a step towards me. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. Are you on your period or something?”
I scowled at him. “Are you fucking serious?” Unsure of why I even bothered, I hefted Mr. Brandt’s bag over my shoulder and stormed out into the pouring rain.
Fuck it.
Fuck him.
So what if I got soaked? I needed to shower anyway. My legs carried me as fast as they could down the sidewalk. Once inside the clubhouse, I picked up some towels and then started to wipe off the clubs. I left his bag in his assigned locker stall.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, and I had five text messages: two from Abby and three from Jax. Walking over to the employee locker room, I scrolled the messages.
Abby: Where are you?
Jax: Are you okay?
Abby: I’m in the Cabana Bar drinking with Joe and Kerry.
Jax: I’m in the lobby and I don’t see you.
Jax: Going up to my office. Message me when you get this.
I fired off a text to Abby letting her know that I got caught in the Pro-Shop looking at visors. I replied to Jax’s text and told him I was about to shower and change.
Jax: You are welcome to use my private shower.
Jax: Glad you’re okay. My office is on the twenty-first floor of the clubhouse tower.
My heart pounded against my ribcage.
Being wet and naked in Jax’s office?
This was not a good idea. Or was it? Nope. I didn’t bother sending a reply. I stripped out of my wet clothes, and then wrapped up in my towel and hurried to the stalls.
That’s a new offer from a guy. “Hey, how about you come take a shower in my office.”
I was so very tempted by his offer, but it felt a lot like reverse walk of shame.
Less shame—instead how about walk of the shameless slut.
WHAT THE FUCK?
My towel was gone.
“Seriously, not cool.” I huffed.
“Looking for this?” Jax’s voice boomed out.
I covered myself with the shower curtain and peered out. Jax stood five feet from the shower stall holding my towel in his hands. “Jax, what the hell?”
What was he doing here? And why did he have to look all hot and yummy? He was wearing black dress pants and a white button down shirt with the sleeves pushed up. To make matters worse, his collar was undone—two buttons undone to be exact, showing just a bit dark chest hair.
He laughed. “I told you to come to my office.”
“I’d like my towel back please,” I demanded, nodding towards the hook. “And, no, you didn’t, you said I was welcome to use the shower in your office.”
He placed the towel back on the hook, and I motioned for him to turn around. As quick as I could, I snatched the towel. After I made sure the curtain was securely in place, I patted my arms and legs dry.
“Jax, this is the women’s locker room, I am sure you’re violating at least twenty employee codes of conduct,” I informed h
im, tightening the towel around me.
“Possibly, and I could say I’m the boss the rules don’t apply to me, but that line of thinking rests on the corner of douchebag and asshole.”
I pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the stall. When his eyes met mine, thoughts of lust swirled inside me, I’ve looked at Jax before, but this time it was different. I saw the passion and fire dancing in his eyes. Disoriented from the hot shower, I had to be imagining things. I strode past him, and rounded the sinks to get to my locker. “Don’t follow me, I need to change.”
Mocking surrender, he held up his hands. “I’ll stay right here.”
“No peeking,” I called over my shoulder.
“So I wanted to see you because my sister got me this gift for my birthday earlier this year, and, well, it’s about to expire.”
My brows pinched together in confusion, as I dabbed the soft cotton against my slick skin.
“What kind of gift would expire?”
“It’s a cooking class for two, and if I don’t take it now.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight actually, I lose it.”
Clasping the hook of my bra, I shook my head. “What if I already have plans tonight?”
“Hmm, yeah, I was hoping I’d get lucky and this was a night you weren’t busy.”
The good news for Jax was that the only plans I had were to pick up some takeout, pay bills and then watch some television. The bills could wait until tomorrow morning.
“Okay, I’ll go to this cooking class with you. What are we making?”
“The theme is Asian fusion.”
I finished getting dressed and then came around to face Jax. “It seems that I am quite the fan of Asian cuisine, so I guess I will save you from having to take this class alone.”
“Perfect.” He rubbed his hands together, a wicked smile played up his lips. “I’ll pick up at your place in two hours?”
“Okay,” I said with a smile. “Now shoo, don’t you have a company to run or something?”
Jax turned to leave, and when I heard the door close I sagged against my locker. I pressed my fist to my mouth to stifle a tiny squeal.
TO SAY THAT I WAS making sane decisions would be a complete lie. I’d gone out of my way to stalk Stevie down in the women’s locker room. Apparently, stalking was in my repertoire. I should stay away from this woman, but I couldn’t. I’d already asked her out for Friday, but that wasn’t soon enough. At present, she was correct in pointing out the employee code of conduct. I was working my way through violating more than half the policies in the handbook.
Wicked Gentleman Page 6
