There are only a few ways to describe Liam Landon, my new boss at the bar where I’ve worked for so long that it feels more like home than my tiny rundown studio apartment. Smug? Check. Arrogant? Check. So rich his shoes form puddles of money wherever he walks? Yep, check. I’m not a huge fan of Liam Landon because of all this, but mostly because he swooped in and bought the bar from my real boss, Alex Boston. And then fired him without so much as a goodbye and a thanks for playing.

In fact, he didn't keep any of the other staff either. Instead, they've been replaced entirely by Liam’s crew.

Except for me. I'm the only one left.

And now I’m sitting in the back office, expecting this to be the moment he lets me go, too.

He smiles that smug, patronizing smile of his and leans back into the chair like he feels right at home. Truthfully, though, he looks so out of place, he might as well be a polar bear in the middle of the Safari Desert. Hell Cat, as much as I love it, has always been more of a rowdy hole-in-the-wall than a cocktail bar where everyone looks as if they’re worth a million bucks. And Liam here, well, he’s worth more than a million.

Rumor has it, he has billions.

“Hello, Carrie,” he says. “Thanks for coming in. As I’m sure you’re aware, I haven’t yet hired a manager for Hell Cat, which is why I’ve called you in for a little chat.”

“Couldn’t find someone else to do your dirty work for you, huh?” I say without bothering to hide my disdain. I know why I’m here. It’s taken him awhile to get around to it, but he’s going to give me a kick out the door just like he has to everyone else. He has no reason to keep me around. Hell, I don’t know why it’s taken him so long to fire me in the first place. He’s staffed up plenty of other bartenders, making me more than redundant.

He raises his eyebrows. “Really? Is that any way to speak to your boss?”

“It’s not like you’re going to be my boss for long,” I snap back, “so what’s the point in playing nice? Just get it over with and let me go.”

He taps his finger on the desk, a faded, chipped plastic thing he hasn’t bothered to replace yet. I guess he’s too busy gutting businesses to worry about the little details like office furniture or keeping the employees who made this place into the popular nightlife hotspot it was.

Hell Cat was famous within the younger crowd, with those who like to take down their hair and let loose on a Friday night. And tourists. They loved it, too. I have a feeling that whatever Liam has in mind will turn this place into the opposite of what it was. Wild, fun, free. In his stuck-up suit, all I can imagine are long rows of stiff, straight-backed business professionals sipping at martini glasses and holding polite conversation before everyone keels over from boredom.

I guess it’s a good thing I’m about to get fired.

I could never work in a dump like that.

“You know, Carrie.” He presses his hands flat on the table and stands, towering over me. I know he means to come across intimidating but it only makes me roll my eyes. He's just like every other guy I’ve met in my life, throwing his dick around to get his way. “I was actually going to offer you the manager position before you came in here acting like a spoiled princess.”

I snort, standing and placing my palms flat on the table to meet his gaze. “Yeah, right. That’s a load of horse shit, and we both know it.”

He stares at me, barely blinking, studying me with an intensity that would make most people melt. But instead, I throw that intensity right back at him. Two can play at this game.

“Just tell me one thing,” he says. “What the hell did I do to make you hate me? Or is this just your sparkling personality?”

“Oh, it’s my personality all right. Pissed off at the world twenty-four seven,” I say with another eye-roll. “Or did you ever think that maybe I wouldn’t be spectacularly pleased that you bought my bar and then fired everyone I know and love? They’re my family, and now they’re gone. Jobless. In New York City. Thanks a lot, Mr. Moneybags.”

His lips quirk as he narrows his eyes. “Your bar?”

“That’s right.” I lift my chin. “My bar. I’ve worked here since it opened, and I’ve been here almost every single night of its existence. If this place belongs to anyone, it’s me. Not you, with your fancy suit, your overpriced tie, and certainly not with that ridiculous espresso machine I’ve heard you want to install.”

“And why shouldn’t I install an espresso machine?” he shoots back. “This is Manhattan. Everyone drinks coffee. There’s a cafe on every corner.”

“This isn’t a cafe,” I say slowly, shaking my head at his cluelessness. “That’s what you don’t get and why Alex never should have been dumb enough to sell Hell Cat to you in the first place. People don’t come here for fucking coffee.”

I should shut up. I really should. Right now, I’m collaborating with the enemy, giving him tips on how to better run this place when I should be storming out without another look back. But I can’t help it. I love Hell Cat. I want nothing more than for it to continue on and live for as long as the city will have it. Decades, if possible.

Centuries.

Liam eases back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall, eyeing me up and down with a strange appreciative glint in his eyes that makes me shudder. I feel a lot more comfortable with the glaring he was doing only moments ago. Because there’s no denying the guy is hot. Just not my kind of hot. I like a man with tattoos, a ripped t-shirt, and calloused hands. Not this fancy-pants moneybags before me now. Though his suit sure does fit him well, clinging to his defined biceps and bulging chest.

“You seem to have a lot of opinions for someone who acts like she wants nothing more than to storm out of here,” he says.

“Well, I don’t want to watch you fuck things up,” I say. “You bought the bar for a reason, didn’t you? Why Hell Cat instead of another one of your cocktail bars?”

“It’s one of the most famous bars in the city.” He smirks. “How could I resist?”

Ugh. I want to smack that smirk right off of his face. So, buying Hell Cat was just a way for him to add a famous name to his portfolio without really caring or understanding what it stands for, what kind of place it really is. He doesn’t know what the clientele wants. Hell, he’s probably never even been to Hell Cat until now. I would have remembered a guy in a thousand-dollar suit, one like Liam, with impossibly dark hair and a killer smile.

“And so did it ever occur to you that you should keep the soul of the place intact?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Don’t change what makes it Hell Cat. Don’t start serving fancy cocktails. Don’t install an espresso machine. Don’t come up with an elaborate food menu when no one wants to come here to eat. Repair the jukebox, replace the old shot glasses, and maybe do something about the tight fit behind the bar.”

He nods, surprising me. I expected him to argue or at least put up some resistance to my ideas. “Despite my better judgement, I’d like to give you another chance to say yes to the manager job, Carrie. I could use your input and your expertise on this place.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you fired everyone,” I can’t help but snap.

Truthfully, I’m tempted. For one, it would mean I wouldn’t have to go home jobless, which is always a bonus. I have some money saved up but not enough to last me more than a couple of months. I’ve made good tips here at Hell Cat, but not enough to keep me going for long. And, two, well…as much as I want to storm out of here with my head held high to make a point, this is my home. And it’s hard to walk away from that.

“Right,” he says, giving me a dismissive wave. “If that’s how you’re going to be, then forget I asked.”

“Wait,” I hear myself say. “How much input can I give?”

“Some,” he says. “I’ll listen to what you have to say, but I can’t guarantee I’ll always agree. Once the place is fully up and running again, I’ll leave you in charge of the day-to-day operations, of which you’ll have full control. I have a lot of properties to manage, as I’m sure you know, so I can’t be here all the time.”

That means I only have to make it a couple of weeks before I can get him out of my hair. And then I can be in charge of Hell Cat, something I never thought would ever happen. As much as I’m a bartender at heart, and not a manager, it almost feels like a dream come true. Minus the whole Liam aspect of it, of course. But that’s only temporary, and his smug face will be gone soon enough.

“Fine.” I nod. “I’ll do it.”