Down to You
Page 5

 M. Leighton

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“And you’ve only seen the upstairs,” he says with a wink.
I should’ve known I wouldn’t get out of here without some reference to that.
“Can we just forget that ever happened?”
His smile is devilish. “Not on your life.” He starts backing up, away from me, away from the exit. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Seven o’clock.”
“Should I wear something particular? Or…”
“I’ll send some stuff to your house. Size six, right?”
For some reason, knowing he’s checked me out so closely that he can estimate my size makes me feel warm in all sorts of places that I shouldn’t feel warm.
“Yes.”
He winks again then turns around and disappears into a barely visible door at the back of the bar.
CHAPTER EIGHT - Cash
I smile as I hear the door bang shut behind Olivia. She’s gone.
I hate that I had to cut the interview short, but I can already see that girl’s gonna have a way of making me do and say crazy, stupid shit. In a way, I like it. I like her.
She’s such a contradiction. I can tell she’s attracted to me, but she tries not to be. I can tell she’s a little shy, but she tries not to let that show either. And watching her put on a brave face, watching her rise to a challenge is so damn hot! It makes me want to push her, to see how far she’ll go.
I know that sounds perverse, but it’s true. Something about her reaction to my taunts gets my juices flowing. All I know is having her around so much is going to make for some very interesting weekends!
I sit down to type out an e-mail to Marie, who owns the shop that supplies me with all my uniforms. I can’t help but think of what Olivia will look like in the low-slung black jeans and snug black tank top. I don’t want my bartenders to look like whores, but I don’t mind for them to show a little skin and a little cleavage. It sells more drinks. And, in Olivia’s case, it will provide me with lots of pleasure.
I’m very much looking forward to tomorrow night. She’s already got that cute ‘n sexy thing going on. Putting her in an element where I can focus on getting her to spread her wings a little will be the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m already thinking of what I can ask her to do for her “audition.”
CHAPTER NINE - Olivia
The ring of my cell phone wakes me up. I open one bleary eye and look at the bedside clock. It’s four minutes past six. In the morning. Who in the world would be calling me at such an ungodly hour?
I look at the lighted screen of my phone. I don’t recognize the number and I consider not answering. The fact that it IS so early is what makes me reach for it. I always feel a little tingle of alarm when my phone rings at an unusually early or late hour.
“Hello?” I say, my voice hoarse even to my own ears.
“Olivia?”
A shiver runs down my spine. It’s Cash. His voice conjures an image of his handsome face, cocky smile and sexy chest. Instantly, I feel all melty.
“Olivia?” he says again.
No, it can’t be Cash. It must be Nash. It’s too early for a club owner to be up. Sadly, I’m equally excited by the mental image and prospect of Nash calling me, too.
I am so much more twisted than what I ever realized!
“Yes.”
A deep rumbly laugh.
So effing sexy!
“It’s Nash. I’m sorry to call so early, but I’ll be out most of the day and I wanted to see how things went at the club. Did you take the job?”
“It’s no bother. Really. I appreciate you checking up on it. Um, actually I have an ‘audition’ tonight. Whatever that is.”
“Ahhh,” he says knowingly. “Cash likes for his people to be willing to entertain.”
For the first time, I remember that Cash is the one who supplied the stripper and true horror sets in.
Sweet Lord, I can’t strip!
I sit straight up in bed. “Holy hell! He doesn’t expect me to strip, does he?”
Another laugh.
“No. Unless you want to strip.”
“Good God no!”
“I didn’t think so, especially after your first experience at Dual.”
There’s a smile in his voice.
Cash told him! Dammit!
I think a change of subject is in order. “So what does that mean then, ‘entertain’?”
“Let’s just say you can’t be shy in front of a crowd. Are you okay with that?”
Yes, I tend to be a little shy, but it’s in no way debilitating. And frankly, I’m a little miffed that he might be implying that it is.
“Believe me, Nash, I can do what any of the other girls can do, no problem.”
Well, that might not be entirely true. But I’ll be damned if I’ll ever admit it!
“Then you won’t have any problems. With your looks and personality, you’ll kill ‘em.”
His comment pleases me. Even though he’s not supposed to notice what I look like. But I’m so glad he does. It means that he’s not immune to me, which is actually a bad thing, but one that makes me feel not so alone in my attraction. Still, nothing can ever happen. He’s taken.
Dammit.
I hear a muffled beep, like Nash is getting another call.
“Speak of the devil. That’s Cash calling now,” Nash says. Then he mutters almost absently, “Wonder what he’s doing up so early?” I think it’s funny that I wondered the same thing. After a couple seconds, he clears his throat and continues. “Well, anyway, good luck tonight. That’s all I really wanted to say. Go back to bed. Get your beauty rest. Not that you’ll need it.”
I find myself smiling like a loon. I feel like giggling, but I quell the urge. “Thanks, I will.”
“Sleep well, Olivia.”
Even after he hangs up, the skin of my arms and chest is puckered with chills. I love the way he says my name.
How in the world did he get my number? I think randomly.
I lie in my bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Nash. Wondering what it would be like to be staring at his ceiling instead, wherever he’s at, lying in bed beside him. My eyes drift closed as I think of him rolling over to cover my body with his, to feel his h*ps fit between my thighs.
Those are the thoughts that usher me back into sleep.
********
Dual looks very nearly the same as it did yesterday, only tonight a few more lights are on and there are voices. Two of them and one is raised in undeniable anger.
“So I get stuck training some newbie? This is such bullshit! I have the most seniority here. He should’ve at least asked me.”
I can see who the voice belongs to—a wisp of a girl with long blond dreadlocks and one arm full of tattoos. She’s waving her hands in furious animation, shouting at a young guy who looks about as flustered as a cucumber.
“Slow your roll, psycho,” he says good-naturedly. I can only see the back of his dark head, but I know he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice. In fact, he sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “He said she’s got experience. She probably won’t need that much training.”
“If she’s gonna be working with me, she’ll either be the best or I won’t work with her.”
“You’re such a sweet, agreeable beer wench, you know that, Taryn?”
The girl, Taryn, who had turned away to fill up something behind the bar, whirls on him so fast I can hear her dreads slap his face.
“What did you call me?”
The guy tips his head back and laughs. Hard. I fully expect to see the girl go for his eyes, but instead, she surprises me and grins. And just like that, it’s over.
“Are you gonna try to get off and go to the concert with me?” she asks congenially.
Their voices drop into a more conversational tone that I can’t hear as clearly and feel guilty for listening to. Time to either get the hell out of here or make my presence known. And trust me, it’s no easy decision. Just the thought of working with someone like this girl Taryn gives me heartburn.
Before I can give much consideration to backing out, I reach down for every last ounce of bravado I possess, I clear my throat and I start making my way toward the bar.
Both heads turn to watch me as I approach. As I get closer, I can see that, although obviously in possession of one hellacious temper, the girl is quite beautiful with her wide almond eyes and full ruby lips. And the guy is…wow! He’s quite beautiful, too.
He looks exotic. Maybe Hawaiian or Cuban. He has light caramel skin, jet black hair and eyes to match. And the smile he turns on me? Holy shit.
What is this? The land of misfit models?
I try not to be self-conscious in my outfit. It’s not very revealing, at least not uncomfortably so, but I still feel…nervous. The pants ride low, showing off a decent-sized square of stomach, and the tank top is probably a size smaller than what I’d normally wear, revealing a healthy shot of cleavage. All in all, it’s nothing trashy, but it’ll get me plenty of attention, I’m sure. That’s what makes me nervous.
I don’t fill my shirt out nearly as well as Taryn, whose buoyant boobs are undeniably artificial. She’s skinny everywhere else, though, which makes me kinda proud of my curves. If there’s one thing I’ve got, it’s junk in my trunk.
I smile widely and stick out my hand. “Hi. I’m Olivia. You must be Taryn,” I say, addressing the girl first. Evidently, if there’s anyone I can expect to have trouble with, it’ll be her.
“I would say I’ve been expecting you, but I just found out I’ll be training you, so...”
She’s prickly, yes, but not overtly hostile. I take that as a good sign and go in like a linebacker. “I’ll try my best to catch on quick. Luckily, I have plenty of bartending experience, so…” I say, trailing off like she did.
She nods, but her smile is clearly doubtful. “We’ll see.”
“Great!” I say exuberantly. “I look forward to it.” Quickly, I turn to the guy, aiming my hand in his direction. He’s still smiling. “Olivia.”
“Marco,” he says smoothly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Every now and again you meet someone you just know is immediately attracted to you. There is no doubt in my mind that Marco is attracted to me. He’s not even trying to hide it. And why would he? There’s probably not a female on the planet who could resist the charms of someone like him—dark, hot, easy-going, killer smile. “My night just got a whole lot better.”
Oh, he’s gonna be a handful!
“Maybe mine did, too,” I reply with a playful grin. My ability to flirt with him is the biggest indication that nothing will ever happen between us. It’s the guys that tie me in knots, like Nash and Cash, that give me reason to worry.
“Turn that cutsie smile of yours on some clients and maybe you’ll do all right, but you still better be able to sling some drinks,” Taryn says sharply as she walks away.
Marco makes a shooing motion with his hand and rolls his eyes. “Just ignore her. She’s in a constant state of heightened PMS. She gets a little better once the place fills up.”
I smile and nod, but I’m thinking, Oh, thank God!
“Maybe her dreads are too tight,” I mumble.
Marco laughs. “Damn! Beautiful and funny. I can’t wait to see what else you’re hiding behind that sexy smile.”
“Nothing as charming as what you’ve got behind yours, I’m sure.”
Marco starts nodding, his smile never faltering. “Oh, yeah. We’re gonna get along just fine.”
CHAPTER TEN - Cash
I rarely ever dread work, but I usually don’t look forward to it quite this much either. I give the room enough time to fill up and then go out to check on Olivia’s progress. I’ve made a point to give her time to adjust before showing my face. I figure that might make her nervous.
I know she wants me. Or at least I think she does. I just think she doesn’t want to want me. That alone piques my interest.
I don’t mind the cat-and-mouse thing we’ve got going on. I’m willing to play a little to get her into my bed. I’ve got good instincts about women most of the time, and my gut tells me she’ll be worth the wait.
When I step onto the floor, I look across the ocean of moving heads. My eyes go straight to the bar. To Olivia.
I have a clear shot of her, partly because I stand a couple inches over the tallest person between us and partly because there is a little bubble of men around her. Already.
She’s smiling at a client as she mixes a rum and Coke. I watch her take his card and run it through the machine at the register, like she’s been doing it every day for years.
She’s good. And I’m pleased. I would’ve kept her anyway, but it’s nice to know she’s worth it.
Oh, she’s worth it, all right.
My mind wants to drift off to visions of laying her out on the bar when the club is empty, of peeling her clothes off and licking her smooth skin. Ruthlessly, I wrangle my thoughts and bring them back to the matter at hand—her audition. She never needs to know that it’s unnecessary. She’d be hired regardless. But I’m having her audition anyway, more for my pleasure than anything else.
I shoulder my way through the crowd, making my way to her end of the long, straight bar. I stop at the edge of the semi-circle of guys surrounding her and wait until she looks up and sees me. When she does, I see her pause. It’s nearly imperceptible, so much so that I doubt anyone else notices. But I notice. And that’s all that matters.
She licks her lips nervously and smiles. I wink at her, just to see what she’ll do. She pauses again and her cheeks get red, but then she looks away.