3

But I loved bartending. More, I loved the club. I’d only started my

graduate work because I needed more to do. Something to keep me

“occupied” was what Brian had said when he offered to pay for my

expenses beyond what my scholarship and financial aid covered.

It was a good decision—the right decision since it essentially stopped

my life from spiraling out of control. For the past three years I’d thrown my

life into school and the nightclub. Problem was that graduation took most of

my preoccupation away. And now bogged down with student loans, I had to

figure out how to make ends meet without having to leave The Sky Launch.

But I had a plan. I wanted a promotion. I’d been helping with

supervisory duties for the last year, but had been unable to get an official

title since managers had to work full-time. Now that school was over, I was

available for more hours. David had been grooming me for the position.

The only wrinkle in my trajectory could be a new owner. But I wasn’t going

to worry about that. Yet.

Explaining my intent to strangers was never easy, though. How wise

was it to use an MBA from Stern for a career in nightclub management?

Probably not wise at all. So I swallowed before answering the suit.

“Actually, I’d like to move up here. I love the nightclub scene.”

To my surprise, he nodded, his eyes shimmering as he sat forward into

the bright white light of the bar. “It makes you alive.”

“Exactly.” I couldn’t keep back my smile. How had he known?

“It shows.”

Hot, rich, and in tune with me. He was precisely the kind of man that I

could obsess over, and not in the healthy way.

“Laynie!” The shout of the Regular from earlier drew me away from the

intense gray eyes of the stranger. “I’m out of here. Wanted to say congrats

again and good luck. And, hey, here’s my number. Give me a call

sometime. I can help you occupy your week off.”

“Thanks, uh,” I read the name he’d written on the napkin he’d handed

me, “Matt.” I waited until he’d walked away before tossing it in the trash

under the counter, catching the suit’s eye as I did so.

“Do you do that with every number you receive?”

I paused. It wasn’t like I hadn’t hooked up with customers before, but

never with regulars. That was a rule. I didn’t want to see them again. Too

much temptation to go crazy over them.

But I had no interest in having that conversation with the suit. And with

his eyes constantly on me, I finally believed that my attraction to him

wasn’t one-sided. Not when he’d tipped me so generously. “Are you trying

to figure out if I’d throw away your number?”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

His reaction made me smile and made the moisture between my thighs

thicken. He was fun to flirt with. Too bad I had to end it. I placed my hands

on the counter and leaned toward him so he could hear me better over the

music, trying not to delight in the searing look he gave my bosom as I did

so. “I wouldn’t throw yours away. I wouldn’t take yours at all.”

His eyes narrowed, but the laughter from earlier still danced in them.

“Not your type?”

“Not necessarily.” Pretending I wasn’t attracted to him was futile. He

had to be aware of my reaction to him.

“Why then?”

“Because you’re looking for something temporary. Something fun to

play with.” I leaned even closer to deliver my punch line—the one that

would deter even the horniest of men. “And I get attached.” I stood back up

to my full height so I could take in his reaction. “Now doesn’t that just scare

you shitless?”

I’d expected to see panic flash through his face. Instead, I saw a flicker

of amusement. “You, Alayna Withers, do anything but scare me.” But

despite his words, he stood, buttoning his suit coat as he did.

“Congratulations again. Quite an accomplishment.”

I watched him for far too long as he walked away, more crestfallen

about his abrupt departure than I wanted to admit.

It took me a good five minutes after he left to realize I’d never given

him my name.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER TWO

“HAVE you met the new owner yet?”

I glanced up from my clipboard at Liesl’s backside as she studied the

contents of the small fridge behind the bar, her cascading purple hair

dancing with her movements. My brow furrowed. I hadn’t forgotten about

the new owner but had tried not to think about him, knowing I’d obsess.

Irritation at being reminded of him now filled my response. “When

would I have met him?” I hadn’t been at the nightclub since my graduation

more than a week before.

Liesl closed the door to the fridge and shrugged. “I don’t know. You

could have stopped by or something.”

She knew me too well. I’d stopped myself several times that past week

from wandering over. It had been a battle, but I’d stayed away. “Nope.

Actually, I spent most of the week at a spa near Poughkeepsie.”

“Well, la de da!” Liesl raised a studded eyebrow. “Did you win the lotto

when I wasn’t looking?”

“Hardly. It was a gift from Brian.” He hadn’t bothered with a card, just

an envelope containing the train ticket and voucher for the resort delivered

to me by my doorman the morning of my graduation. It was thoughtful.

And so very unlike my brother. Maybe it had been his wife’s idea.

“How…nice.” Liesl detested Brian and never bothered to hide it. One of

the few people in my life who knew my history, she was fiercely loyal and

always on my side. My brother, not so much. That automatically put them

at odds.

“Don’t sound so shitty. It was nice. I did a bunch of crap I’d never done

before—horseback riding, rock climbing. Tons of spa treatments—feel my

skin!” I held out my hand for her to feel. “My hands have never been this

soft.”

“You’re not kidding. Baby smooth.”

“It was good for me. Really. Exactly what I needed. Relaxing but still

kept me preoccupied.”

“Wow. Score one for Brian. Maybe he’s finally growing up.” Her voice

lightened. “And how was your time not at the spa?”

Miserable. The five days at the spa had been perfect, but after the trip

was over, I had to return to my real life, which meant an empty apartment

and a mind that refused to stop working. “I’m glad to be back, if that’s what

you’re asking. And I may have four or five files of new ideas for the club.”

She laughed. “Hey, at least that’s healthy obsessing.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Healthyish.” I searched for the Skyy Vodka that

my report said should be on the shelf and marked its presence on my paper

when I found it. There were benefits to an active mind. I always had perfect

inventories and flawless presentations. It was in relating with people—men,

to be precise—that obsessing had its disadvantage.

I leaned against the back counter and checked my watch. Fifteen

minutes until opening. That meant fifteen more minutes before the lights

went down and into club mode. The club with all the lights on made me

vulnerable and bare and out-of-place. Even Liesl’s sassy gossipy

personality was muted as if someone had turned down her volume. We’d

never have this conversation in club mode.

My eyes traveled across the bar, lingering on the spot the suit had sat in

the last time I’d worked. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought of him since

that night. He’d known my name. Had he overheard it? Not my last name.

He must have asked someone, although I hadn’t seen him talking to anyone

else. But maybe before I’d taken his order…I hadn’t been paying attention

to him. Maybe someone had told him then.

“Whatcha thinking?” Liesl cut through my thoughts, mimicking my

lean against the counter.

I shrugged. She’d freak if I told her some random guy knew my name,

assume that my safety was at risk. I, on the other hand, had distinct empathy

for people who had the need to gather more information than they should.

And I didn’t want a lecture on would-be stalkers. I knew all about stalking.

But I could tell her other things about the mysterious stranger. “Last

time I worked, this guy—” I paused, remembering how magnetically

attractive the suit had been. “This incredibly hot guy, actually—gave me a

hundred dollars for three fingers of Macallan. Told me to keep the change.”