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Trey was about to turn when he noticed Rod walk up to the edge of the bar. Dahlia whipped her head toward him and immediately rushed over, leaning across the bar. When she straightened, her eyes were rounded, and she shook her head, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. Trey was good at reading people, and he was seeing distress and a bit of panic on her face.
What the fuck was going on? Trey moved closer to the banister. Rod’s back was to him, so his sole focus remained on Dahlia, who appeared a little more confused with a hint of fear. Trey balled his fists, feeling an unfamiliar and unnerving heat stretch over his muscles. Rod pointed in her direction, and Dahlia took a step back.
“Find out what’s happening,” Trey demanded, and Jared brushed past him.
Trey folded his arms, watching as Killian looked behind him, placed the bottle down, walked over to Dahlia, and started talking to Rod. It was impossible to grasp what was being said, but Killian’s demeanor shifted, and he stepped in front of Dahlia, taking aim at Rod. Trey was seconds away from handling it himself when Jared appeared next to Rod and ordered him away from the bar.
There was a quick discussion between Jared and Killian. Dahlia stayed in the background, glancing around, unsure of herself. It lasted seconds before she rushed over to Misti. Dahlia seemed to bounce back quickly.
Trey watched Jared walk away from the bar and up the stairs. With the limited time, Trey started through the back hall again, opting for the private staircase. It was quicker. Jared sidled up next to him.
“Apparently, Rod was less than impressed with the new barback’s speed. He got pretty loud with her.”
Trey angled his head, knitting his brows.
“Killian stepped in because he felt the opposite, and when he expressed that, Rod had some choice words.” Jared paused. “Have I mentioned that Killian doesn’t like Rod?”
Trey snorted. “You hear about that a lot?”
Rod had been brought in initially for backup security and to help Sloane with management. Trey wasn’t particularly impressed with him, but it was Rogue’s call, and up until now, Trey hadn’t taken an issue with the man. He was abrasive and aggressive, which worked well in security.
“Every damn night.” Jared drew in a breath. “It’s settled. For now.”
Trey started down the stairs. The back exit led down to the small bar kitchen and the private back entrance. It was rare to see anyone there except a barback on occasion. And here she fucking is…
Seeing Dahlia from across the club in her uniform was one thing, but her close-up gave Trey an unexpected response. His gaze traveled down her back, lingering on her ass and down her long bare legs as she bent over and grabbed the dish basin. The uniform was Rogue’s design. Trey would have gone a little more conservative, erring a bit to the classy side, much like Oz’s club. Rogue’s vision definitely brought in the bigger tips for the staff, and no one complained.
I’m not complaining now.
Dahlia must not have heard them because when she straightened and turned toward the kitchen, she gasped, and her eyes widened. Her shock was quickly replaced when she locked eyes with him and smiled.
“Hi, Trey!” Her breath hitched, and her cheeks pinkened.
Hi, Trey. It was a phrase he rarely heard. And when he did, it didn’t carry this much enthusiasm.
Most people, especially employees, knew better than to interact with him and especially Rogue and steered clear of them. It was the way they wanted it. Dahlia was completely breaking all the rules, and if he had to guess, she just realized her mistake.
She quickly lost her smile, turned to the side, and muttered. “Shit.”
Trey steeled his features, not giving in to his smile. He glanced at Jared and lifted his chin, dismissing the security. As they passed, he noticed Dahlia look over, but she immediately dropped her gaze to the floor again. Trey waited until the last man had rounded the corner and disappeared before walking into the stockroom. Apparently, Dahlia had assumed he’d left with his men.
When she spun around and saw Trey standing a few feet away, she stumbled backward. His immediate response, without any thought, was to reach out, grip her arm, and steady her. It put them in closer quarters with her back pressed against the wall and the plastic carrier separating them. Trey felt her tremble under his hand. Her arm shook slightly, which could have been from the weight of the dishes or their close proximity. He grabbed the heavy plastic carrier and took it from her hands, placing it on a shelf in the dark corner of the stock hallway.
Dahlia seemed shell-shocked and confused, still refusing to look in his direction. Even standing in front of him, her gaze darted from one side to the other.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“Look at me.”
Dahlia stilled, grazed her teeth over her bottom lip, and glanced up through her lashes. Fuck! This was not the vision he needed in the small, confined space with her. If her flowery scent wasn’t enticing enough, towering over her by at least a foot gave him the perfect view of her cleavage practically busting from her top. Trey clenched his jaw.
“Sorry for what?”
She shook her head.
“Dahlia.”
Her lips parted, forming the perfect O as her eyes widened, and she shifted on her feet. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”
