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A slow smile spreads across Jay's face. "Sure. I’ve managed to avoid it the last few years, so I guess I owe an appearance… as long as we find the time to… use those benefits afterward."
I smile out the front windshield at the empty street. "Just keep it low-key. Hannah doesn't need to know all the details. To her, we’re just friends."
Jay chuckles. "Agreed. She'd probably murder me if she found out.”
“Well, I can’t have your death on my hands, so we’ll keep quiet about it.” I stop just in front of The Rusty Oak, and Jay pauses with his hand on the door handle. It’s like he wants to say something, but what is there to say? “Thanks” sounds like I had sex with him as a favor, but it was just as much a selfish decision on my part as something I did for him.
“See you at work,” he finally says. He hops out without giving me the chance to reply. I watch him walk past the front door to where his car is parked, making sure he gets in okay. That rule isn’t just for women, you know.
Jay is one sexy man, and at least for now, I can put my hands on him whenever I want.
CHAPTER 15
JAY
Two nights later, Violet is on shift again. I can’t help it. Every time she’s sashaying to a table to take orders, my eyes follow her. She’s wearing a brown and orange sweater dress with knee-high boots. My eyes keep going to the patch of skin between where her boots stop and her dress begins.
I want to slide my hand up under the hem of her dress and grab her ass. I want to pull her against me and do unspeakable things. I just have to ask her to stay after her shift tonight, and she’s all mine. That’s how this friends-with-benefits thing works, and I can't wait to experiment with it
But ever since Violet arrived for her shift, pushing through the front door and heading straight to the kitchen, she’s been on edge. I’d like to talk to her and make sure everything is okay, but she hasn’t made eye contact with me.
The few times she’s needed me to make some drinks, she’s repeated the order tightly, then gone back to the kitchen to fill her food orders instead of waiting and chatting. It’s odd behavior, but we’re also busy tonight. I should be pleased that she’s keeping up with her orders.
“We’re out of peanuts,” Violet tells Jerry. He has his hands full mixing a mojito, and he’s got at least four or five other orders bouncing around in his head. I don’t know why she chose to go up to him and alert him about the peanut situation.
“What can I help you with?” I ask, sliding up beside Jerry so he can continue to fill orders. I’ve got a few on my own plate, but I’ll take a thirty-second break for Violet.
“It’s okay,” she mutters, turning around with her half-empty bowl.
I reach out to stop her, but my fingers just brush her sleeve as she goes. I frown, confused at the strange interaction. If she needed more peanuts, it’s not a big deal. I can just go to the back and get them. But why wouldn’t she talk to me about it?
An hour later, I hand things over behind the bar and go to check the inventory. If we are out of peanuts, then I should get the order in sooner rather than later. After doing my usual count, I’m replacing things on the shelves when Violet comes into the kitchen, almost running into me as I’m backing out of the closet.
“Oh, sorry,” I apologize, reaching out to steady her by grabbing her arm.
Violet slips her arm out of my grip and averts my eyes. She’s acting strange, quiet, not the confident woman I laid eyes on when she first came into The Rusty Oak.
“Do you need something from back here?” I step aside so she can get into the storeroom.
Violet steps inside, and I watch for a moment as she shifts through a bag until she finds a new package of napkins. She rips them open and steps back out of the storage area.
“Napkins? I could have gotten those for you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got them now.”
We both stand there for a moment. I sense that she wants to say something, and I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on. Last time we talked, it seemed pretty clear that we had an arrangement, but now, Violet is acting strange around me, like something has happened.
“I’ve got a table waiting for these,” Violet finally says before rushing out of the back and into the bar.
Something is clearly bothering her. I take an extra minute in the storeroom to try to figure out what it is. But the only thing that’s changed between last time she was working and tonight is that we now have a label—friends with benefits.
Is it the label that’s bothering her? Maybe she regrets agreeing to it? It’s not like she couldn’t tell me no if I started to touch her and she didn’t like it. I need to talk to her, but not now. I’ll talk to her when we have more privacy.
When I get the chance later in the evening, I tap her elbow as she comes up to the bar with another list of drinks for me to make. She’s already recited them, and I’m doing the mixing.
“Vi, is everything alright?”
Violet presses her lips together and avoids my eyes, not giving me a verbal answer. Her physical response, though, is enough to confirm that something is wrong.
