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The only time men blatantly flirted with me was when I was in my cigarette girl get-up. I’d chosen my outfit with the male gaze in mind, but men looking at my boobs and legs with desire remained disconcerting.
As long as all they did was look, though, I could deal—especially when that meant better tips and selling lots of treats.
Miles was hanging at my end of the bar when I returned for a refill of cupcakes.
“You’re good at that.” He leaned a hip against the bar, settling in to watch me.
Mid-reach into the pink box, I stopped and turned to him. “At lining up cupcakes?”
He chuckled. “No. Well…yeah, that too, but I was referring to you flirting your ass off. You’re good at it.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
I’d just been thinking I wasn’t used to the male attention I received at work. Miles was correct to be surprised by my switch in persona.
And I hated it.
He didn’t know me well enough to be surprised. Then again, maybe he did. Maybe all it took was one look to surmise exactly the type of person I was.
He uncrossed his arms to hold up his hands. “I never said you shouldn’t. I only complimented you on getting your flirt on. I bet you’re making bank.” His eyes flicked to my updated price list, and a wide grin spread across his face. I couldn’t even say it was smug. He appeared delighted. “You took my advice, Daisy-daze. How’s it working out?”
I resumed lining up cupcakes on my tray so he couldn’t see the powerful blush blazing on my cheeks.
“So far, so good, actually,” I muttered.
“You wish I’d been wrong so you could shove it in my face?”
“No.” I glanced up at him and then back to my task. “I’m spiteful, but not so much I’d cut off my own nose to prove you wrong.”
“Don’t think that’s how the phrase goes, but I get you. And you’re welcome.”
Huffing, I closed the lid and straightened my tray. “I’ll thank you when my sales remain up for several days.”
“I won’t be here, so you’d better thank me now.”
My brow knitted. “Are you quitting already?”
“I’m not a bartender in real life. I told you I was doing Nick a favor. Tonight’s my last shift. If you want to thank me next week, you’ll need to give me your phone number.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to politely decline. I had a boyfriend and—wait, scratch that. How had I completely forgotten for five seconds I was no longer beholden to anyone? Andy and I had been over for a month. It was just hard to suddenly be single again after seven years.
“I’ll think about it,” I hedged, though I wouldn’t think too hard. Miles was cute—a gross understatement, but I refused to acknowledge how breathtakingly handsome the man in front of me was—but I was in no place to enter into…anything.
“Don’t think too hard.”
The corner of my mouth hitched. A crooked smile. I wasn’t worried about it. “Is that your life motto?”
“Wow, that hurt.” He pressed the center of his chest. “Go back to flirting with strangers in exchange for money.”
“You’re awfully judgmental for someone who just asked for my number.”
He winked, and dear god, it was charming instead of cheesy. Before this moment, I hadn’t known that possible. “I can’t say I won’t also be flirting with strangers for money. The homes for the unhoused charity I’m donating my tips to need it.”
“Very impressive,” I deadpanned. “I’ll be using my income to plant trees in the rainforest.”
Before he could reply, Bea appeared from nowhere, slapping her tray on the bar. “I have orders, Preppy.”
Miles’ eyes slid over my face for a lingering moment, then he shook his head and gave Bea his full attention.
