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Why am I doing this? The full-length mirror reflects back a girl who looks like she’s trying too hard, and I know it's for him – for Walker.
“Stupid,” I mutter under my breath, yanking a brush through my hair. I swipe on mascara, darkening lashes that make my eyes look bigger. There's a heat in my cheeks that makeup can't cover, a telltale sign of the thoughts that have been entering my mind. He's just a man, I remind myself. A man who probably won't even notice me, much less my efforts.
But I want him to. Oh, how I want him to see me, not as the naive girl he probably – correctly - thinks I am, but also as someone worthy of that searing gaze and the incredible intensity that seems to simmer just beneath his surface. I shake the thought away, grabbing my bag and heading out the door.
Today, I'll serve drinks with a steady hand and an indifferent smile. Today, I'll pretend that Walker doesn't affect me. Today, I'll ignore the heat he ignites inside me with every smoldering look.
But first, I need coffee.
I maneuver between tables, a tray balanced with practiced ease on my hand, six beers in a circle headed for a table of people younger than we typically see.
My gaze flits across the room, drawn like a magnet to where Cara is draped over Walker like an expensive fur coat. She's laughing at something he's said, but his eyes are distant, unfocused. He doesn't share her amusement. A knot forms in my stomach, tightening with every giggle that slips from her lips.
I turn away, willing myself not to care about her attempts to dominate every ounce of his attention. To not let jealousy take hold. But it boils in my belly, an unwelcome feeling that refuses to leave.
“Your order.” I smile at the table, seeing all the young men give me appreciative smiles.
“Thanks, doll.” One of them winks.
“You should join us.” Another man glances at his companions as if they have some bet about who’ll be able to charm me into doing what they want.
But it’s the one who slaps my ass that really riles me up. “Oh, we’re slapping now, huh?” I ask, then slap him across the face. “Did I do that right?” I ask as silence takes over where smiles and comments had been a moment ago. With my heart pounding, I take the empty tray and walk back toward the back of the bar with Liam’s amused eyes on me.
I hear scattered laughter and the angry voices of the men as they ask for the manager. Walker makes his way to the table as Liam stands between me and the guys. “What happened?” Walker asks and the men trip all over themselves to say I slapped one of them, unprovoked.
But the regular on the other side laughs, saying that the idiot thought it was a good idea to slap my ass. Walker fixes an unnerving stare on the young man, who shifts uncomfortably. “Is that true?” Walker asks, his voice low and dangerous as the whole bar holds its breath.
One of the guys nods, and the others follow suit.
“So, you sexually assaulted one of my staff and you’re mad she defended herself?” Hearing him put it that way, the guys begin to shake their heads, knowing there’s no way this can end well for them.
“I’m going to give you one opportunity to walk out of here.” He doesn’t even follow up with a threat, but the guys leap to their feet and hurry toward the door with real fear in their eyes. Walker watches them go, then makes his way to me as Cara tries to vie for his attention again.
“That was so amazing, I love that you protect women like me from creeps like that.”
But he ignores her as he makes his way to me, and I step from behind Liam, ready to face whatever punishment he sees fit and hoping I don’t get fired like Daniel did.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and every word I thought I might say vanishes as my mind goes blank. So I nod in response. “Would you like to take a break?” He’s speaking so gently I almost have to lean in to hear him.
“Yes, please,” I say. He jerks his head toward the break room and I hurry off, hoping he won’t change his mind and punish me, anyway. Of course, he could just be getting me to go somewhere so that he can fire me in privacy.
If that’s the case, I’m not getting fired on an empty stomach. I grab my pasta out of the fridge and settle at the table with my phone and a fork.
I’ve barely taken a bite when the door bangs open, and Cara stomps in, black mascara streaking her cheeks.
“This is all your fault!” Her accusation has me looking behind myself to see who she’s talking to. “Yes, you!” she says, and I blink.
“What did I do?” My voice betrays all the confusion I feel and my pulse races.
“You told him to fire me!” She spits the words at me, one after another like hatchets as she approaches with clenched fists.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I stay sitting, but brace for confrontation, making an escape plan as I continue talking. “Cara, I swear, I didn’t know. Did he fire you?” I’m surprised, but some small part of me does a happy dance.
“Cut the act,” she says in an ugly tone, still inching closer. “I know you and Walker have something going on. And I'm going to tell everyone.”
My heart sinks to my stomach. “There's nothing going on between Walker and me.” The words come out firm with an edge of annoyance.
“Sure.” Her expression is mocking. “Your little plan to sleep your way to the top is going to backfire.”
