Chapter 1 #2
“I almost pity him.”
“Careful, that’s how they get you.”
“I said ‘almost.’ I’m too smart to fall for pathetic.”
“What about sinfully sexy?” Miranda smirked and nodded toward the bar.
I followed her gaze. The man sat with his bar stool angled so he was facing the door, giving me his profile. The defined edge of his hard jawline and the slight bump on the bridge of his nose lent him quiet strength, while his lips hinted at sin beneath the shadow of a smile.
He was every fantasy I’d ever had, carved into flesh. From his golden, styled hair to the fitted suit hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he tempted me.
“That one is definitely a hard pass,” I said, tearing my gaze from him.
“Really? Why?”
“He’s like an Angel’s Trumpet.”
“I like our conversations, Sophia. They always keep me guessing.”
I laughed at her large sip and shook my head. “You need to read more. Angel’s Trumpet is a plant. It’s pretty to look at, but deadly. He’s the same.”
“Interesting. And you can tell that with just a glance?”
“Yep.”
She made a pouty face. “I think your uncle wants you to help again, and that group of guys that just walked in is looking at me. If I end up slapping some sense into a human who won’t take no for an answer tonight, you'd better have bail money.”
“I’m broke,” I said, standing. “No slapping. Smile and tell them you’ll be back tomorrow night. I like your company.”
She snorted and waved me away so she could flirt like I knew she would. Miranda might talk like she wasn’t interested, but she absolutely wanted to find a mate of her own.
My uncle beckoned me to join him where the number of customers around the bar had increased.
I helped him fill orders and settle bills.
The “rush” was only slightly more than what one bartender could handle, so neither of us got overwhelmed.
I chatted with a few patrons and made some decent tips, with Uncle Jay passing his to me since I was clocked out.
Eventually, Mr. Sexy With A Side Of Danger signaled that he was ready for another drink.
Admittedly, I’d been avoiding going over to check on him.
A girl only had so much willpower, looking at his pretty face.
And boy was it pretty up close. His lips beckoned just as much as his hazel eyes that leaned toward a captivating amber.
Definitely an Angel’s Trumpet.
“What can I get for you?” I asked with a pleasant smile.
“Your number.”
He said it so smoothly, like it had rolled off his tongue a million times. Why did that disappoint me?
Don’t be an idiot, Soph. A man whore is a good thing. They’re safe.
Nothing about this man said he was safe, though.
I rattled off my uncle’s phone number. It wouldn’t be the first time he got a call for me. Usually, when the guy hears another guy’s voice, they immediately hang up.
“Will you pick up if I call you?”
I started making a drink.“Someone will, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be me.”
The partial smile that had been teasing his mouth grew.
“It’s not your number, is it?”
“You won’t know until you try it.” I slid the drink I made toward him. “That’ll be twenty dollars.”
He handed over the cash without batting an eye at the inflated price.
I moved away to put the money in the till, let Uncle Jay know I was done, then rejoined Miranda, who dispersed her group of admirers at my approach.
“Didn’t vibe with any of them?” I asked.
“Not enough to do anything about it,” she said. “What about you and Mr. Angel? I saw you talking to him.”
Angel wasn’t a bad name for the guy. He definitely looked like someone born to be worshipped.
“Not enough to do anything about it,” I said, echoing her sentiment.
“So what are your plans now that you’re home?”
“Working here and making connections until I can land a business job,” I said.
“You have connections, you know,” Miranda said. “Wrenly can get you into Wulf Enterprises with just a pout. I’ve seen it.”
“Which is precisely why I don’t want to go there. I want to earn my place by building my skills so I’m indispensable. Using the backdoor to get in is just dirty tricks.”
Miranda’s immediate smirk had me rolling my eyes.
“No dirty back door jokes,” I warned. “And I’m serious about earning my way.”
“Okay. Then, if I see any legit openings—not in Wulf Enterprises—should I send them your way?”
“I’d be forever in your debt.”
She waved off my comment. “I need to pay you back for letting me use you as a money tree.”
“I thought we were getting matching handbags.”
“Only if we’re lucky.”
We toasted each other and drank until I was tipsy. Miranda, of course, was fine due to her shifter metabolism and switched me over to water as soon as she noticed.
“You’re my best friend,” I said with a grin. “Don’t tell Wrenly.”
“Oh, I’m telling her. Maybe she’ll feel guilty and come out with us next time.”
“Good point. Next time is tomorrow, right?”
“Is this place open on a Sunday night?”
“Of course. Uncle Jay is married to his place. He couldn’t leave her for a night if he tried.” I thought for a moment. “I think he did try back when I was in high school. A tropical getaway. It was all booked and everything. Hot chick with a bikini to go with it. He chickened out.”
He hadn’t chickened out. He’d canceled because that’d been when Dad filed for divorce.
Uncle Jay had been livid on Mom’s behalf, but he’d stayed because of me so I wouldn’t be stuck with them while they were sorting out their lives.
That’d been the first time I’d come to Lunar Pulse and learned how to take inventory.
“Your scent changed to sad. What are you thinking?” Miranda asked.
“Nothing useful. Just remembering why I love Uncle Jay and why you should come back tomorrow. We need more social posts to promote this place.”
She looked around and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a great place. I think pictures of me and some attractive men would work for promotion.”
“Together?” I asked, a little surprised. I wasn’t opposed necessarily, but I wasn’t sure my uncle wanted his club branded as a—
“I don’t know where your thoughts were veering, but I meant separately. Pictures of attractive people having fun are advertising 101. I promise to dress special tomorrow and call a few guys I know. They’ll model in exchange for a free drink, no problem.”
“Perfect!”
While the rest of the bar emptied—Mr. Angel had left somewhere between sober and tipsy—Miranda and I strategized until Uncle Jay joined us.
“Are you all right to drive home?” he asked me.
“She’s not,” Miranda said. “If you’re willing to follow me with her car, I’ll drop you off back here.”
Uncle Jay agreed, and I just wanted to hug the pair of them. “I love you guys.”
Miranda sighed. “Good thing the music is off, or the next phase of her drunken happiness would be grinding on some poor unsuspecting—”
“You!” I said with a grin.
“Exactly. Let’s go, Sloppy Sophie.”
I wrinkled my nose at her. “Not that one. Wrenly gets Princess. I want a better one.”
“Wrenly hates Princess,” Miranda said, tugging me to my feet. Gently, of course. Her “not gentle” could rip my arm off.
“What about glitterbug or shoewhore?”
Uncle Jay started laughing as he followed us out of the employee exit.
“Not sure shoewhore’s a good pet name, Sophie-Girl,” he said from behind us.
“It’s actually pretty fitting,” Miranda said, stuffing me into her sleek red sports car. “She’d sell herself for the right pair of heels.”
I laughed because she wasn’t wrong and buckled myself in as she walked around the car.
It was nice having a friend who understood my boundaries.
I didn’t really have many boundaries in general—just with men.
Specifically with men who might want to use me.
I was absolutely fine with using them, though.
My thoughts drifted to Mr. Angel, and Miranda shot me a look as she started her car.
“Are you really horny for shoes?”
I was still giggling by the time she pulled up in front of my house.
“Will you be able to put yourself to bed, shoewhore?”
Another fit of giggles escaped me. “Yep. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride.”
I got out and hugged Uncle Jay before he could take my seat. “Thanks for bringing my car back. See you tomorrow.”
“Any time. And welcome home, Sophie-Girl. Tell your mom I said, ‘Hi’.”
“I will.”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand next to me, waking me. I rubbed a hand over my face and forced my eyes open. Daylight peeked in from around my window blinds as I squinted at the message from Miranda.
Miranda: There’s a job opening at Steele Corporation. Administrative position, but it’s for the VP. Not sure if you’re interested.
I sat up, excitedly clicking the link she’d included, and read the job description. Working for the VP wasn’t starting at the bottom, but it was within my skill set. I had all the software experience they required.
Giddy, I sent Miranda a heart emoji, said it was perfect, and told her to keep sending recommendations like that.
Then, I looked up Steele Corporation. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the Steele name.
They were old money. The company had been around for a century already, proof of solid past leadership that helped it survive numerous economic crises during that time. But what about now?
I pulled up the company website and started reading. They had a strong company motto and core values that showed they cared about their employees. However, when I went to the leadership page, there were no pictures for the higher-ups, just a little bit about their achievements and ethics.
The man in charge, Drokonnen Steele, took over a few years ago, as had the Vice President, Lianna Stonestock. Both went to elite schools, proving they had pedigrees and brains.
Feeling a little intimidated, I filled out the application anyway.
Impossible only happened when a person never tried.