Lola

I’m pouring a bucket of ice into a cooler behind the bar, and when I stand up, I see Helen talking to Fox. Leaning my forearms on the bar, I watch how she touches his arm and flips her hair and smiles a lot. A surge of annoyance comes over me at how obvious she’s being, but I don’t look away. Boldly, she reaches up to straighten the knot on his tie, which is always perfectly centered on his suit, and he takes a step back.

Interesting.

She pouts and stomps away toward the bathroom. Normally, we work in the red bar together, and she likes to chat. I wonder if she’ll tell me what’s going on with her and Fox. Though, I’m not so sure I want to know.

I’m still leaning forward on my forearms when Fox turns around and readjusts his tie. He looks irritated, but then he looks up and our eyes meet. Even though the rest of the staff is working around us to finish setting up, I can’t seem to see anyone else but him. He starts walking toward me, and I know I should get to work but I’m frozen in place watching the way he moves so confidently and commandingly. I know I can’t resist him any longer. Especially after the little epiphany I had last night.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Probably,” I reply, and he smiles that smile that makes me want to swoon like an absolute idiot. But I school my thoughts and push off the counter and stand up straight, adjusting my shirt and apron.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He leans forward, much like I was just doing, with his forearms on the bar.

When I furrow my brows he adds, “Didn’t you hear? About the VIPs that are coming?”

I shake my head and shrug.

“Well, there are VIPs coming in and the club’s supposed to be at capacity.”

“Cool.” Well that explains why everyone is hustling to get their side work done quickly.

“Everyone’s been wanting to know who’s coming, but the bosses don’t want anyone running their mouth or tweeting or whatever it is you all do on your phones all day,” he says, tipping his head to the server who was doing exactly that on the other side of the club, which makes me laugh. “We don’t want security getting out of hand before they even arrive. That’s what Helen wanted to know.”

“Okay,” I say, not sure why he’s telling me all this.

“Just in case you thought there was something going on between us or something.”

“Nope,” I reply, grabbing a handful of lemons and a knife so that I can get to work.

His big tanned hand snatches the lemons and I look up questioningly. “Woman, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy. I know you were watching Helen talk to me just now.”

My eyes open wide. I’m not sure if he’s being funny or if he’s upset. Luckily, his lips turn up slightly and I let out a breath. I gaze at his lips for a moment longer. “I wasn’t watching Helen. I like to watch you talk.” I can’t believe I boldly admitted that. But his lips, they’re full and so sexy. Without thinking it through and with courage I didn’t know I had, I reach across the bar and run my thumb across the corner of his lip. It’s my favorite spot on his face and when I realize what I’ve done I quickly snatch my hand back. “Sorry,” I croak out, knowing my voice sounds odd. Embarrassed, I take my knife and stumble to the other side of the bar, but he reaches across and grabs my forearm. “You can run, but what you just did, what you just said, I hope you know…it’s on.” And he lets me go and walks away.

It’s on.

Shit, I think I’m in way over my head with this guy. Still what did I expect goading a man like William Fox.

But the temptation was too much and I couldn’t resist.

Fox

Lola threw down the gauntlet.

A woman doesn’t touch a man the sensual way she just touched me without there being consequences. The consequence, of course, is that I know without a doubt that the attraction is mutual and I’m going to convince her to give me a chance. I don’t know what’s holding her back but I’m going to find out later tonight when we’re not swamped at Panic.

It takes about two hours for the staff to find out who the VIPs are and about two hours and five seconds before it’s posted all over social media. Even though that goes against our policies, it’s hard to control. It’s all hands on deck tonight. The line to get into Panic to get a glimpse of rapper Jay Aaron and his equally famous wife, Bee, is out of control. I’m outside with Toro while Matt and Nick are inside working the floor to make sure everything is running smoothly and things don’t get too chaotic. With standing room only and bodies inches apart, it’s difficult to maintain control, especially when most everyone is drunk. At some point I see Matt side by side with Lola tending one of the packed bars and Nick helping out at the VIP bar.

By three A.M. things have settled down a bit. The club’s still packed but the VIPs and their entourage are getting ready to leave, which alleviates the crowd somewhat. I look over from my post up front and see that the bars are still slammed. Lola’s cheeks are red from exertion, Matt has long since removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, Helen has secured her hair in a ponytail, and the rest of the staff is no better for wear. Everyone is smiling and playing their parts but they all seem exhausted.

By six in the morning, most of the staff is still at Panic even though we’ve cleared the customers out. “Holy fuck,” Nick mutters, running his fingers through his hair as he grabs three bottles of water and tosses one to me and another to Matt.

“I second that,” I say, gulping down water as I look around the empty club, making mental notes of things that went wrong or could have been done better in terms of security. Some of the staff are sitting around with their legs up and a few are wiping down the tables and bar tops. The lights are on and the floor is littered with napkins and cups and spilled liquid for the cleaning crew to deal with later this morning.

“Great night, but I’m fuckin’ beat,” Matt says.

Nick’s phone chirps and he pulls it out, a smile spreading across his face as he reads something on the screen. “I’m heading out.”

Matt rolls his eyes and mutters, “Pussy-whipped,” which makes me laugh because Matt’s just as much a goner for his woman as Nick is for Katherine. But they’re always messing with each other.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Nick admits, not even denying it. He takes out his wallet and drops a bunch of hundred-dollar bills on my palm. “Take ’em out to breakfast. They deserve it.” He gestures to the staff before slapping my back with his palm and leaving.

“Worked all night with your girl,” Matt says looking toward the bar where Lola is cleaning up. “Great worker. Never complains. Always on time. Customers love her.”

I haven’t exactly kept my infatuation a secret. They know I want her. They also know she won’t give me the time of day. I gulp down more water as I glance over at Lola. She must sense my gaze because she turns her head. Our eyes meet for a moment before she looks back down. Matt chuckles. “Okay, maybe she’s not your girl.”

“Not yet.”

“There is something about her though,” Matt says introspectively.

“I know, right?”

He chuckles again. “Not because she won’t go out with you, man. That just makes her smart.” I know he’s teasing. “There’s something else going on with her but I can’t put my finger on it. She’s really shy.”

“Is she though?” I ask. I think of her finger on my lips. That’s not something a shy woman does. I agree with Matt though; there is something to Lola that I can’t seem to figure out. “She doesn’t seem shy with the customers.”

We’re both standing there looking at Lola. “True,” he agrees then tosses his bottle of water into the nearest recycling bin. “Well, I have enough at home trying to figure out what’s going on with my woman. Can’t stand here and figure out yours. Good luck with that. Tough nut to crack, that one.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You got this?” Matt asks, looking around his club. Toro is long gone and I’m the only one left other than the service staff.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, and Matt slaps my shoulder much like Nick did a minute ago and heads out.

I do a final walk-through of the club, then stand on a chair and holler at the staff. “Breakfast on the bosses!”

I hear a bunch of yeses and few tired grumbles. “Finish up and we’ll meet across the street at the diner!” I call out as I start to turn off the lights.

I see Lola grab her purse and tuck a big wad of tips in her pocket. She’s wearing those earbuds again, so I stroke her forearm to get her attention. Her cheeks are still rosy and her hair is a little wild but her smile widens when she sees me. “Hey,” she whispers.

“We’re all going to breakfast. On Nick. Come out with us.”

She bites the corner of her lip in thought and looks around. A bunch of the staff is gathering by the door, and Helen passes me and winks. “Ready,” she announces cheerfully, as if it’s just the two of us for breakfast.

“I’ll meet you there,” I say to Helen who smiles and walks away. I turn back to Lola.

“So? Breakfast?”

She looks over my shoulder and then back at me. “Fine. But only because you’re paying.” She smirks. It’s somewhat flirty but there’s also a bit of jealousy in her eyes as she walks around me and heads to the group by the door.

I laugh and shake my head. Jealousy, the surefire way to get a woman to go out with you. I should have thought of it sooner.

Lola

I’m bone tired and I have to be at the animal clinic in two hours. But it wasn’t worth taking two buses and going home first just to have to head back out. And the thought of good food, not toast or dry cereal, sounds divine.

It has absolutely nothing to do with Helen constantly eye-fucking Fox.

Truthfully, I like Helen. She’s a sweet girl and has never been anything but nice to me. But she’s always hitting on Fox and it irks me. It shouldn’t. But it does.

I’m sitting at the end of the table, as usual always a little outside of the group—physically and metaphorically. I want to fit in, but I don’t know how to. When Fox comes in, he walks straight to the chair next to mine at the head of the table, sits, then turns to me. “Did you all order already?”

“No.”

The server comes by and we all give her our orders, including Fox, who probably knows the menu by heart because he never so much as opens it. Once our tired group of ten is served their coffee and juice, Fox stands and gives a little toast thanking everyone for the great night and for staying late, or early as the case may be. He sits and taps his mug to mine and we drink up as the food arrives.

This is the only time I’ve been out with the group and even though it seems like I have my shit together and I don’t need anyone, I want to be liked, just like everyone else. And I want to make a good impression. Everyone is very nice and it makes me think that maybe I’ll make more of an effort to socialize with them. It’s not like anyone is looking at me as if I’m odd.

“….so you have a thing for security guys, huh?” I catch Fox saying. I look around and most eyes are on me. I smile as if I know what they’re talking about.

“Are you going to say yes, Lola? I totally am! Maybe we can double!” Helen says.

I’m completely confused. I swallow and my brows crease. Gina, another staff member, saves me. “Bee’s security guards? They wanted me to give you and Helen their numbers,” she clarifies and shows me their cards.

“Oh, uh…”

“The short dude with the shaved head, and the tall guy with the leather jacket,” Helen adds excitedly. I know Helen’s a flirt so it’s hard to be upset with her. She’s one of those people who means well and is just naturally gorgeous and chirpy. She can easily interchange Fox for another available guy without batting an eye.

“Oh, yeah, I remember them at the bar,” I say.

“So, that’s a yes?” Fox asks, grabbing his coffee while waiting for my reply.

I shake my head and smirk at him. “No. Not a yes.”

“Come on, chick. It’ll be fun,” Helen says. “Please. You never come out with us. Please…” she whines.

I smile over my own mug of coffee. “I’ll think about it.” And then the topic moves on to something else. Thank goodness. I’m not really going to think about it. I just don’t want to have to explain myself to the group.

“You really going to think about it or is that a way to shut the conversation down?”

“I told you, I don’t date.”

“Not even rich, powerful men with connections to rock stars?”

I set my mug down and turn more fully to Fox, who’s leaning comfortably toward me. “No, especially not rich, powerful men.”

“What can I do to change your mind about your policy?”

“Maybe I’m starting to have second thoughts about it. I’m here, aren’t I?”

He smiles and puts down his coffee as well. “You’re playing with fire, you know? One moment you’re telling me you can’t go out with me. That you don’t date. The next you’re touching my lips.”

“I may have changed my mind about a few things.”

He strokes my arm with one of his fingers. “That’s good to know.”

I’m not a woman who plays games or has hours to waste on flirting with a man. But I can see how I’m giving him mixed signals. And the simple, lingering touch on my arm makes my throat thicken. I guess all the headiness of attraction that I thought I had locked away after a number of failed dates and the heartbreak of my one long-term relationship cracks open. Well, it’s been cracking open since I met Fox, but it’s now a chasm that I’m ready to dive into, headfirst and hoping for the best.

“I’m glad I did this,” I admit in my first step to stop leading him on.

“I am too.”

I’m tired and it’s going to be an exhausting day. I have to be back tonight at eight and I have a full day at the clinic. At some point I hope I’ll get to squeeze in a nap. But still, I’m glad I came out.

His knees brush against mine under the table and he’s leaning casually toward me.

He gets closer and I wonder if the rest of the staff is looking at us. It’s intimate the way his mouth is so close to me. “When you touched me last night…” He licks his lips and my breath catches. “I told you it’s on. I wasn’t fuckin’ around. Are you goin’ to say yes the next time I ask you out, Lola?”

I try to look away but it’s hard when he’s so near. “I guess you’ll find out when you ask me out again, won’t you?”

He leans back on his chair with a smirk, but he doesn’t ask me out. He’s thinking, contemplating something.

I finish my coffee and push back my plate. It’s already past seven and I need to catch a bus to the clinic. “Thanks for breakfast,” I say as I stand up. His hand snags my wrist, and I look down to where he’s touching me and then up at him. His thumb lingers on the inside of my palm for a moment too long. “Sweet dreams, Lola.”

My breath hitches again and I wave goodbye to everyone and as I walk away, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing. I know his eyes are following me all the way out of the diner.