My first thought when I got off the phone with Tom thirty minutes ago was shit. The guy’s sharp—he knows exactly what’s going on at the bar even when he isn’t there. It’s like he has this sixth sense. Like the time he knew our new hire a few years back was skimming money off the till when no one else could figure out where the tips were going. Somehow, Callie and I must have gotten on his radar even though we’ve been more than careful. It seems impossible that he knows, but somehow, this has happened.

I stare at his office door, the wood mottled and worn. This place has been my home for the past five years. Tom hates when co-workers fool around because he thinks it creates an awkward work atmosphere when the fling ends. I’ve seen him fire people for less.

No use in standing out here like a jackass. He’s expecting me. I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

I hear a muffled, “Come in,” through the door.

When I walk into the office, everything is normal. Tom’s at his desk, pen jammed in his mouth as he studies something on his computer. The blinds are half open, sunlight spilling onto his desk in lines through the slats. It reminds me how the sunlight mixed with Callie’s hair this morning, coating her skin with a glow. Right now, I’d give anything to be back in bed with her. Between her thighs. Hearing her scream my name. Fuck.

Get it together. You’re at work and possibly about to get canned.

Tom’s never been too keen on co-workers hooking up. He’s never stated a direct rule about it, but from my time here, every person who has fooled around with someone at work has ended up getting the pink slip.

Tom’s still staring at his computer, so I take a seat.  “You wanted to see me?”

Tom turns and studies me for a minute. I vaguely wonder if he can detect the scent of Callie’s shampoo on me but decide he’s too far away to be able to tell. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” he says, raising a brow. His gaze searches my face, but then he quickly turns his attention back to his computer.

“Nope.” Everything in me is shouting, Be cool, man. This guy’s not going to piss away five years. I’d like to hope.

“Good. I’ve been watching you lately. I’ve seen a change in you, especially since we hired Callie.”

Shit. He knows. He has to. I keep my expression neutral. Unease turns in my gut knowing I have to keep this from him. I’ve been honest with Tom since day one, and I wonder if I come clean now if he’ll go easier on me.

Yeah, no. I’m not ready to tell him that, not unless I know exactly what this conversation is about first.

“She’s a good worker,” I say. She’s good at a lot of things. Some of those I wouldn’t even tell a goddamn priest.

“She brings out the best in people, which is why I brought you in. Her probationary period is almost complete. I see now I may have been hasty not to hire from within.”

Wait, what? My panic subsides for a second as I wrestle with the fact this is a good meeting. One I’ve been waiting for…for a long time.

Tom has skipped over me for promotions for years, and he’s just now noticing I do my damn job well? “I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

He taps his pen on the table and leans back in his chair, slouching. “I’ll be watching your performance for the next month. If I feel you can do a better job than Callie, her position is yours.”

Holy shit. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. To finally gain some experience as a manager so I won’t be fucking useless when I open my own bar. And then it hits me. He said I’d be taking Callie’s position. One that she’s worked her ass off for since she started.

“And what happens to Callie?”

He shrugs. “She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll land on her feet in no time.”

“So she’ll be fired?”

“She’s probationary. That comes with its own risks. Since when are you so concerned about who I hire and fire?” He leans forward, putting his elbows on his desk.

I don’t second-guess myself often. I say what I mean. I’m able to sleep at night without worrying about what I said to a customer three weeks ago. But this whole conversation reminds me of a booby-trapped temple, and I’m Indiana Jones navigating past devices of decapitation and mutilation.

“I’m not. I just want to know where we all stand in this.”

“Either you get the job, or she does. I’d say it’s pretty simple.”

He’s right. And I do want the job. I just don’t know what I’m going to tell Callie. Because the second I see her, she’ll want to know what Tom and I discussed.

“I appreciate the opportunity. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Just don’t say anything to Callie. Some things are better left unsaid.”

I nod. It makes me feel like fucking pond scum at the thought of not telling her. She deserves to know what she’s up against.

“Have a good rest of the day off. I hope you can get back to whatever you were doing. You look well-rested today.”

The irony does not escape me. That Callie’s the reason I don’t feel like I’m ready to jump down someone’s throat today. Birds were fucking singing when I woke up.

There’s no way I can keep this up with her, though. Not when a promotion is on the line for me, and she’s all that stands between me and it.

I’ve decided even before I find my way out of Tom’s office that I need to end things with Callie. It was a fling. An amazing couple of weeks with her. That’s it.

Because, come next month, she’ll be gone, and I’ll be the manager for On Tap.