“Now that was a good night.”
Ben leans against the bar and rolls his shoulders, taking a deep breath.
The hum of the club has quieted down, leaving behind an empty space filled with the scent of spilled beer and whiskey with faint traces of perfume. The quiet settles around me like a dead weight.
“Yeah. Damn good night. Great work, Ben.”
He nods, flashing me a smile of gratitude before starting the cleanup.
I’d spent the evening behind the bar, filling drinks and keeping an eye on the crowd, making sure things didn’t spiral out of control. Now, every muscle in my back is a knot, and exhaustion tugs at my edges.
“I’m heading to the office,” I say. “Let me know if anything comes up.”
Ben gives me a two-fingers-to-the-forehead salute. I walk slowly toward my office, rolling my shoulders and cracking my knuckles along the way.
A few moments later, I collapse into my chair. The space is big enough for my desk and two chairs, a small couch, and a bookshelf.
If tonight taught me anything, it’s that the crowds aren’t getting any smaller, which I suppose is a good thing for business.
The door creaks open and in walks James like he owns the place. In a way, he does. He invested in the club right alongside me when I bought it, and his presence is as much a part of the routine as the lights shutting off at the end of the night.
“Another one for the books.” He drops a stack of papers on the desk, a lazy grin on his face. “You look like hell.”
I grunt, reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the shelf behind me. “Feel like it too.” I pour two fingers into two glasses and slide one to him.
He picks it up and clinks it against mine. “To Friday nights and the fools who pay our bills.”
We sip in silence, the burn of the whiskey spreading warmth through my chest. James flips through the numbers with one hand, his eyes scanning each page. “We had three hundred and seventy-six bodies in at the peak. Over five hundred total in and out throughout the night. Not bad.”
I nod, satisfaction settling in my gut. “Good work.”
He grins. “Damn right it is. We keep pulling numbers like this and I’ll be taking a vacation in the Bahamas sooner than planned.”
“Make sure you leave me with a babysitter if you do.”
James chuckles, eyes glinting. “Like you need one.”
I sip my whiskey, the warmth doing little to loosen the tight coil in my chest. My mind keeps drifting back to Erin. The way she looked behind the bar, confident and defiant. The way her eyes held mine, challenging me without saying a word.
“So,” James begins, his eyes narrowing slightly. “About that woman you interviewed today. Erin, right?”
Her name lingers in the air between us. I swirl the whiskey in my glass, staring at the amber liquid. “Yeah. I hired her.”
James’ eyebrows lift. “Starting her on a Saturday? Bold move.”
I shrug. “She can handle it.”
He releases a low whistle. “Hope so. Trial by fire will prove if she’s got what it takes, eh?” He pauses, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something serious. “What happened with Jerry? Why is he banned for the weekend? Heard talk out on the floor tonight.”
“He put his hands on her.”
James’ expression darkens, his easygoing demeanor slipping away. “Shit. You take care of it?”
“Of course. His ass is going to be on a short fucking leash when he returns. Last thing I need is drunk regulars scaring off the women.”
James studies me, his eyes narrowing. “Speaking of Erin… you interested in her?”
The question hangs in the air, my pulse thudding at the mere mention of her name. I take another sip of whiskey, letting the burn distract me. “What the fuck you talking about?”
James chuckles. “Come on, man. I saw the way you were looking at her. You didn’t look at Ben that way during his interview.”
Guess I was being more obvious than I thought. “Does it matter?”
James snorts, leaning back in his chair. “To me? No. But to you? Might want to figure that out before things get complicated.”
I scowl into my whiskey glass. “No,” I snap. “I don’t sleep with employees. And before you start wondering, I didn’t hire her because she’s easy on the eyes. Woman’s as competent as they come.”
James throws his head back and laughs. “Come on, Sam. I know you better than to think you’d bring someone onboard just because she looks good in a pair of jeans. But let’s be honest, that woman was eyeing you like she wouldn’t mind breaking a few rules.”
I grit my teeth, the muscles in my jaw ticking. I don’t answer because there’s nothing to say. His words hit too close to the truth, and I can’t afford that kind of distraction.
James swirls his glass, watching me over the rim. His eyes soften, and I know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth.
“Don’t say it.”
He raises his hands in mock surrender, his thumb and index finger wrapped around his glass. “I wasn’t going to say a damn thing.”
“Yes, you were.”
He sighs, knowing he’s been busted. “It’s just… Kara’s been gone eight years, Sam.”
I glare at him, the words a gut punch I refuse to acknowledge. But his gaze doesn’t waver, and he presses on.
“It’s okay to be attracted to someone else. It doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”
The knot in my chest tightens. My fingers grip the glass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. I know James is right. The logic of it is clear, undeniable. But it doesn’t stop the guilt clawing at my gut, like I’m betraying her memory by feeling anything for another woman.
“She’s off-limits, James. To me, at least. I don’t need that kind of distraction in my life. This place takes up enough space in my mind.”
His lips curl into a smirk, but his eyes are serious. “Off-limits, huh? Nothing like a piece of forbidden fruit to make things more interesting.”
My scowl deepens. “Drop it.”
James chuckles. I know he means well. He drains his whiskey and sets the glass down on the desk. He stands and stretches his shoulders, but he doesn’t leave.
I avoid his gaze as he lingers by the door, hands in his pockets, watching me like he’s trying to peel back the layers I keep locked down tight.
Finally, I look up.
He tilts his head, his voice quiet, sincere. “Listen, I don’t want to get too personal here, but—”
“Then don’t.”
“I know you loved her, man. But she wouldn’t want this lonely life for you.”
The words hit harder than they should. I swallow the lump in my throat and force a smirk. “You sound like my fuckin’ mother.”
He grins. “I wish I was half as wise as Miss Delores.”
We share a laugh, the tension easing just a fraction. He nods and walks out, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving me alone in silence.
I take another sip of whiskey and turn to the computer on my desk, the glow of the screen illuminating a spreadsheet of numbers. Profits are up. The club’s thriving. My investments are solid. Everything in my life is moving forward like a well-oiled machine.
But the empty spaces linger—the quiet nights, the cold bed, the weight of solitude pressing down on me. Random hookups don’t fill the void. They simply scratch an itch.
Not only that, but damned if they aren’t starting to make me look immature. I’m not just some investment broker working late and chasing women. I’ve got my own business; making notches in the bedpost doesn’t exactly establish me as an upstanding member of the community.
As soon as I close my eyes and lean back in my chair I see Erin. Her smile, her sharp green eyes, the way she met my gaze without flinching. The way her body moved, confident and graceful, like she belongs behind the bar—or in my arms.
I shake my head, muttering to myself. “Dumbass.”
The first woman who sparks anything real in me and I go and hire her. Of all the boneheaded decisions I’ve made, this one takes the cake.
I drain the last of my whiskey. The smart move would be to keep my distance, keep things professional. But the way my body reacted to her, the way my mind keeps drifting back to those defiant eyes and that sassy, sexy mouth…
That’s going to be a hell of a lot easier said than done.
