Page 93 of The Price of Love

Maybe I should scrub my face clean. No sense in tempting fate or sending the wrong signal. I just wanna feel less unsure, and keeping my appearance up is the best way I know to do it. Even if my insides are a hot mess, on the outside, I look together.

Jazmin is scheduled to tend bar, so I’ll run into her later. I’ve avoided her since I dropped by Black Briar the other night, but since I’ve been mostly absent, Storm’s asked me to circulate tonight.

First, Storm and I have to meet with Halo and talk numbers. Storm’s more of a doer, an action taker, and says I’m better with business and logic. Spreadsheets aren’t my thing, though. My logic is more intuitive, so I’m not certain what I can add, but I’ll be there.

I glance at my watch. Three o’clock. That gives me half an hour before our meeting. Perhaps I’ll slip downstairs and grab a drink before the meeting instead of pacing my room. With her job at Black Briar, Jazmin won’t be behind the bar until later, so it’ll be safe.

I glance at my reflection again. Yeah, I look good. I can come upstairs and wash it off before I circulate tonight. No sense in giving Jazmin the wrong idea.

There are only four patches sitting at a table near the bar but no bartender. The girls call to me, so I wave but keep walking. I glance at the clock. On Fridays, bartenders start at two, but I’m good with getting my own drink.

I stare at the bottles. Beer or something harder? As I’m contemplating, a hand claps me on my shoulder.

“Ma’am, are you supposed to be behind the bar? Shouldn’t you leave that to your bartender?” I recognize Jazmin’s voice.

I turn with a smile, and I don’t miss the widening of her eyes when she sees me.

Shit. I shouldn’t have smiled. Hearing her voice, I’d reacted without thinking when I should have remained stoic.

I need to cool the heat in her eyes. I shrug. “Well, when the bartender is shirking her duties, I had no other choice.”

“Shirking?” She points to the cases of beer on a dolly. “I was replenishing the stock before the herd shows up tonight.”

I narrow my eyes. “What are you doing here so early? Didn’t you have to work?”

“I’ve been putting in a lot of OT, so Nails cut me loose early.”

“How generous.” I laugh. “She cut you loose from your paid gig to come here and work for free.”

“I volunteered.” Her eyes bore into me.

“Really? Why?” What answer do I want? I should want to hear she’s trying to score points with the club.

Jazmin grins. “What if I told you my reason is standing right in front of me?”

Shit. I asked for it, but now I’m speechless. A flirtatious answer flits through my mind, but I won’t voice it. It’s not fair to Jazmin to keep up this push and pull. It’s my normal M.O. when I’m in a relationship, which is one of the many reasons I’m single. But doing it with a prospect is playing with fire.

Who am I kidding? It has nothing to do with that. Jazmin makes me want to work through my shit instead of dodging it. Possibly overcome what makes me push people away. And that terrifies me.

I must have taken too long to answer because Jazmin says, “You look beautiful today. And your eyes…Wow!”

I freeze. Then I glance at the table where the girls are sitting. They’re in a heated conversation and don’t seem to even notice we’re here.

“Nobody’s listening,” Jazmin says. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I need to say something. “Sorry, you threw me. I’m not used to hearing compliments like that.”

“What?” Her expression conveys her disbelief. “There ain’t no way people don’t tell you how pretty you are.”

She’s not wrong. It’s rare I don’t have someone hit on me, male and female, at whatever club we visit. “It’s different coming from someone who matters.” Fuck. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? Isn’t it true?” Her eyes are soft.

I look down at the floor. “Doesn’t matter if it’s true.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll fix you a drink?”

Damn her. Instead of pushing me, like most women would, she’s giving me the space I need. She’s too good for me. Without meeting her gaze, I slip from behind the bar and take a stool.