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“Maybe friends with benefits?”
“I’m sorry ladies, but I have a rule against fraternizing with customers, no matter how attractive the offer might be,” I winked, trying to play it off as nicely as possible. Years of working at the bar gave me plenty of practice at that. The rules were simple—make the customers feel special and sexy, flirt away, but leave it at flirting. Okay, maybe that was my own personal rule, but it would take someone damned special to cause me to break it.
I finished the cosmo while the ladies continued to flirt with me.
“So, are you from California? You give off surfer vibes,” the blonde woman said.
“I am, actually, and that’s funny, my dad was a pro-surfer,” I said.
“Oh? And you didn’t follow in his footsteps?” the brunette asked.
“I did not. I’m not coordinated enough for that sort of thing.”
“You seem to be in amazing shape,” the blonde reached out and touched my arm, her blue eyes trying to pierce mine.
“Surfing isn’t all about athleticism, though I was a bit clumsy as a kid,” I said. “My dad always called me Dopey. Thankfully, my sister took after him and that allowed me to do whatever I wanted with my life.”
“And this is what you chose to do?” the blonde asked, staring down her nose at me.
Ah, yes, the judgment from some of the richer clientele who thought I was just the bartender.
“I am also part-owner of the resort,” I said. “I manage the restaurants since my background is in the culinary field, but I choose to work at the bar because it’s fun for me. I get to meet new people, listen to music, make drinks… it’s just my kind of vibe, you know?”
My eyes moved toward the entrance, and I noticed someone new had stepped in.
She looked a bit out of place, but not in a bad way.She was younger than most who visited the resort. Long, silky black hair. Porcelain skin. Bright red lips.
As my gaze moved over her I noticed she wasn’t dressed like the typical customer. Most women who came into the bar wore skimpy, sexy attire, but not her. She was in a black skirt that fell to her knees, with a red and white top that didn’t show a hint of cleavage due to a bow at the neck. She looked sweet. Innocent. And that was hot as hell.
“Excuse me?” the woman in front of me said, her tone annoyed.
“Yes, sorry, can I get you anything else?”
“I asked you what you were doing later tonight.”
My eyes never left the new girl though. Reed had mentioned a journalist was staying with us, and that she was going to be writing about our resort. He told me I would recognize her on sight because she was different. I had no idea what he had meant by that, but I think I understood when this girl entered my bar. She had to be the journalist he was talking about.
“I’m just going back to my place and crashing. But if you’re good, I need to help other customers now,” I said.
The dark-haired beauty was walking toward the bar. Any of the other bartenders could have served her, but I wanted to be the one to do so.
I wanted to hear her voice, to talk to her, to see if I was right and she was indeed the journalist Reed had mentioned. I had pictured a mousy middle-aged woman, not… well, not one of the most beautiful women I’d ever laid eyes on.
She stepped up to the bar with a sweet, shy smile.
“Hi there,” she said.
“Hey beautiful, can I get you anything?”
“Uh, to be honest, I’m not even sure what to order. Could you recommend something?”
“Well, do you like sweet, sour, something with a kick?”
“Something sweet.”
“I make a mean strawberry daiquiri, if you like fruity drinks.”
“That sounds amazing, thank you,” she said.
