“You’re hired,” I don’t know if it was the words or the voice that said them from behind me that got to me the most. I know he only vocalized two of them, but his timber was rich, relaxed, and manly, and fucking sexy as hell. A shiver ran down my spine before I turned to see if the face matched the voice. I wasn’t disappointed.
His dark hair was short and styled like all he did was towel dry it. His ruggedly handsome square jaw was covered in scuff, along with his upper lip. I wanted to know what it would feel like on my skin. Let’s just say it was a good thing I was already pregnant because one look from this guy and I could have gotten knocked up again. I hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. He was wearing a black short sleeve chef coat with his name embroidered over his heart. Logan. Did I mention that his arms were covered in ink? They were beautiful and intricate designs that made you want to get closer so that you could study them, run your finger along the edges. This man had many stories to tell, and I wanted to see and hear every one of them.
“Oh shit,” Jackson mumbled before making himself look busy. Despite the bustling dining room, the bar wasn’t very crowded. Maybe it was because people knew they would never get a table. It could also have had to do with the barkeep. Jackson was a cutie; by he couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. I also knew Swayed was known for its wine list and staff of sommeliers. The wine cellar was probably bigger than the bar itself which was a damn shame.
“Logan, they let you out of the kitchen?” My sister asked the sexy beast of a man approached us with an amused grin on his face. I guessed this was how we were getting a table; they obviously knew each other. My twin had been holding out on me.
“Every once in a while, Emily,” he answered before placing a kiss on my sister's cheek. I envied that cheek. Logan turned his attention to the bartender. “Are we letting patron’s mix their own cocktails now?”
“What? You implied she was hired, so technically she’s an employee.” I nearly choked on my drink when Logan turned his attention towards me. He was even better looking close up. His beautiful brown eyes shone with amusement as he tried not to laugh. He put out his hand and offered, “I’m Logan Wheeler.” What no kiss for me?
“Libby Barnes.” I introduced myself as he took my hand. Interesting, he was a topper. I considered myself an expert handshake reader. His shake was about power, don’t get me wrong. It was subtle as shit, but I didn’t doubt he was in charge. It wasn’t aggressive or forceful, but with his hand facing downward and my palm upward it was clear he was thinking ten steps ahead. As I returned the shake, I rotated our wrists. You’re not the boss of me. The look he gave me in response told me everything I needed to know. Message received. Our hands remained joined for much longer than was necessary.
“Sorry to break up the love fest, but can I get another “perfect” Manhattan?” The server used air quotes as she ordered the drink. Jackson looked at me with pleading eyes. I was a sucker, so I got off my chair and rounded the bar again.
“Isn’t she great?” Emily asked as Logan watched me intently.
“She is.” Once again that shiver ran down my spine. Christ Libby get ahold of yourself. “I thought your sister was in Nashville.”
“She was,” I answered, “I mean I was.” Good job Lib, make yourself look like a complete idiot. “I’m here now.” I turned to the pass with the drink I’d just made to hide my blush.
“How’s your Bloody Mary?” Logan questioned.
“Is this a job interview? I thought you already offered me a position.” I batted my eyelashes at him. What the hell was wrong with me? Flirting with the boss was a sure way to get fired before I ever officially got hired. Logan surprised me by laughing in response. His laugh was almost as sexy as his voice. Almost. Jesus, these pregnancy hormones were making me nuts.
“Are you interested?” Logan inquired. I was interested all right and not just in a job. Bad Libby. My sister silently watched us like we were playing in a heated match at Wimbledon. Her head volleyed back and forth. What exactly was he offering? Stop Libby. It didn’t matter because the minute he found out I was with child all offers would be off the table. Focus Libby. A job here, even if it were over as soon as he found out I was pregnant, would do a lot to help me find another job down the road.
“I guess I am.” I tried to hide my excitement.
“Then make me a Bloody Mary and your signature cocktail.” That I could do. I looked around at the bar. In the chiller they had had several marked bottles, no doubt one was a tomato juice for the very drink I was making. And sure if I had done the prep myself, I wouldn’t have hesitated to use it, but I didn’t. “Do you have a juicer?” I asked.
“Your table’s ready Miss Barnes.” The hostess offered cautiously since her boss was entertaining us in the bar. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. I don’t know who was more disappointed, Logan or my sister. And while I was enjoying myself more than I had in a very long time, I needed to eat too.
“I’ll tell you what, if your sister doesn’t mind, I’ll show you back to the kitchen. You can use the juicer while I fire up some appetizers.”
“I’m fine with that as long as you make me another one of these before you go.” Her caramel apple martini was long gone, so was all the caramel from the edge of the glass. Yeah, my sister was pretty ingenious. All earlier thoughts of licking it off Jackson were erased. Now if only they hadn’t been replaced by the same fantasy with my new potential boss as the star.
Logan had a full restaurant and a bustling kitchen, yet he took the time to show me where everything I needed was. He even taught me how to use his very fancy juicer. He smelled yummy. How did I know? I couldn’t help myself. When he stepped in front of me to use the machine I took a whiff. I couldn’t put my finger on just one scent he smelled like; it was a hundred of them, baked, roasted, grilled, and sautéed together with the man himself. It wasn’t sexy as much as it was comforting. Now I sounded like a crazy person.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he offered before leaving to “fire” our “apps” Concentrate on the drinks Libby, not that fine piece of ass. I told myself as I watched him walk away. Good lord, the man’s ass was almost as good as his arms. Focus. Besides a beautiful variety of farm fresh tomatoes, I added ginger, Worchester, house made horseradish, and celery seed to my mix, along with a few dashes of my secret weapon I borrowed from one of the dishwashers. Tabasco worked fine, but this was so much better. I returned to the bar to figure out what else to make.
“Tonight has been so much better than sitting in our pj’s eating pints of ice cream.” My sister was finished with her second martini. She was a lightweight when it came to drinking. I needed to get some food in her stat.
“Here drink this.” I offered her a glass of water with a slice of lemon. It would have to do until the food arrived.
“I’d rather have another one of these.” She informed me as she licked the remainder of the caramel off the rim of her glass. Where the hell was Logan with the food?
“Maybe after you eat something.”
“You’re no fun mom.” I couldn’t help but laugh. If only she knew. Logan said to make my specialty. My favorite drinks to mix were the old-fashioned ones. They had a history, a story of their own. If I could open up a place of my own, it would defiantly be fashioned after a speakeasy of the nineteen twenties. Our Pop had some tall tales about his father from back in those days. I think that’s why I was so drawn to it. I missed our Pop.
“Food!” Emily happily cheered when Logan returned with several different appetizers. He sure was spending a lot of time out of his busy kitchen on us. God, it almost smelled as good as he did.
I ran a lemon around the rim of the glass before dipping it in sugar then mixed the cognac, Cointreau, and freshly squeezed lemon juice over crushed iced before straining it into the glass and presenting it to Logan. Then I combined my perfect Bloody Mary mix with the best vodka they had. I made a show of pouring it back and forth over ice several times before pouring it into a glass and adding a garnish. It didn’t need much. The drink stood on its own. Pride filled me when I placed it in front of my interviewer, but to my surprise, he didn’t take a sip of either cocktail.
She was good. Most bartenders would have used the mix we already had behind the bar. Then again, most bartenders would have tried to impress me with some outlandish concoction when I let them make their signature. I should have known Libby Barnes wasn’t like “most”; she was just like her twin, exceptional. She watched me as I stood at the bar with both her cocktails in hand.
“Where’s he going?” Emily asked louder than she typically would have because she was one of Libby’s happy cocktail customers. Darcy delivered the Manhattan to one of our VIP tables earlier. The moment I eyed them in the dining area, I knew they were the perfect taste testers for my new hire. If she passed the Holloway test, she was a shoo-in. My money was on Libby.
“Finally found someone who could make a decent drink.” Craig acknowledged by finishing his cocktail. Craig was an influential judge and a regular customer.
“I’m hopeful, but I was hoping the ladies could be the final judge.” Trudy and Tina Holloway were longtime friends of Judge Thompson; everyone on the island knew them. If Libby could make them happy, she could make anyone happy. “Trudy, if memory serves me, the last time you ordered a Bloody Mary here you called it “bloody murder.” The sisters laughed. That had not been a good night. Thank goodness, I was able to dazzle them with my cooking and a free bottle of outstanding wine. They kept coming back, but the ladies hadn’t ordered anything but the wine since. “And Tina if I recall you are the adventurer who orders the house special.” The two socialites blushed before both taking sips or should I say gulps of the drinks I offered them with my compliments.
Let’s just say, as long as Libby stuck around I didn’t think they’d be ordering wine again.