Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
MIA
I watch Demitri walk down the back hall to leave the bar, and all I can think is I’ve just fucked up in the worst way possible. He’s never stayed the night at my house. Hell, he’s never been past the living room. That’s not the kind of relationship we have.
“You look like you either just made the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life,” Victoria quietly says from across the bar.
“What? Oh, no, I’m fine.”
She rolls her eyes at me, a small smile on her lips. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but you can’t hide what others see. You care for him.”
“Of course I do. He’s a friend.”
“Mia, that man is more than your friend.”
I’m shaking my head before she’s finished. She puts her hands up in surrender.
“You know it’s alright to have feelings for someone. In fact, it can be quite liberating to give over to those feelings.”
“I don’t have feelings. Not anymore.”
She nods, an understanding in her eye I don’t see very often. “It might feel like that, but you do. I know you do.”
I stare at her, not willing to say anything else and give myself away. I refuse to admit the truth, even to myself most days. She finally gives me a sad smile and taps the bar, turning back to her boys, as I’ve heard her call them before. Daniel stands and pulls her into his body for a quick hug and kisses her forehead before they both sit down.
Demitri. Tall, strong, and all man has invaded my thoughts since the first time I met him, right here in this bar with most of the same people.
FOUR YEARS AGO
“Looks like you all were serious over there.” I smile at the man standing in front of me.
“Yeah, you could say that. But they’re done with me for the night.”
“Get you a drink?”
“Shot of Beluga Gold Line if you have it.”
I raise my brows at him. “Well, aren’t we fancy? Afraid the best I can do is Beluga Noble.”
“It’ll have to do.”
I look at the man in front of me. He’s hot, I’ll give him that. Tall, lean but solid, blond hair that just begs to be grabbed, lips that are just a little too plump, blue eyes that look like they can see into my soul. But he doesn’t look like he’s comfortable in his own clothes, even if those are a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt with what looks like a burn hole in the hem. He also doesn’t look like someone who could afford the expensive top-shelf drink he just requested.
“So, you from these parts?” I ask as I pull out a shot glass and find the bottle of liquor.
“Isn’t that my line?” he quietly returns.
“Touché.” I grin, pouring his drink and sliding it across the bar.
I watch him as he checks out my bar. It’s nothing spectacular, but it’s clean, spacious, and mine.
“So, I’m guessing you named the bar after you? Mia’s?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking about changing it, though. Bars are supposed to have ‘manly’ names like Pat’s Place or Jim’s Juice, or something like that.”
“What are you thinking about changing it to?”
“I’m not sure yet, but something that screams alcohol, you know?”
“How about Rock Brews, so you have the city and the beer?” he asks.
I scrunch up my nose. “Eh…”
“Maybe not?” He smiles, and my knees damn near give out.
I can’t speak, but I shake my head.
“City Brews?” he offers, an almost shy and hopeful look on his face.
“Huh. City Brews. You know, I don’t hate it,” I smile at him. “That’s going on the list, for sure.” I pull out one of the many pens I end up wearing in my hair every night and write it on the notepad next to the register. ‘City Brews’ has possibilities, that’s for sure.
“Does it earn me a Beluga Gold Line next time?”
“Next time? Is there going to be a next time?
“If there’s good Russian vodka, there will be.”
I give him another shot and move to take care of a customer. I make eyes at my friends who have been sitting at the end of the bar staring, openmouthed, at me since I served the man. I don’t even know his name, and I can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not.
When I’m finished with my customer, I check on the table mystery man was sitting at, and they are ready to close out their tabs. They slowly trickle out after paying, but Mr. Vodka stays.
“Who is that man?” Grace asks when I finally make it back to the corner they are sitting in.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Didn’t give me his name.”
“You had a really long conversation to not get his name,” Sofie points out.
“Guess it’s Beluga. Or Gold Line. That’s what he ordered.”
“I’d go with Vodka if those are your options,” Nola snorts.
I roll my eyes. “Alright, white wine spritzer,” I point first to Sofie, “and Sex on the Beach,” I point to Nola. “Want to tell me about those guys you were making eyes at earlier?”
Sofie’s cheeks go red as Nola looks away, avoiding all eye contact.
“Didn’t think so.”
“She has to flirt with the customers to get the tips. We know this,” Grace tries to save me.
“Okay, yeah, but she was really flirting with Beluga boy. The woman was almost drooling over him.” Nola smirks. “Think she’ll take this one home?”
“Alright, ladies. I’m cutting you off for the night. I let you sit here and drink my booze and ogle men all night and this is the thanks I get? You calling me out? Doesn’t work that way, sisters.”
They know I’m bullshitting them, and their dramatic sighs and eye rolls are all part of the act. I’d love to say this is the first time we’ve done this, but it’s not. As a matter of fact, this is pretty much an every time they are in here occurrence. They also have no idea who I’ve taken home with me.
They all wave on their way out the door, and I turn back to the man of interest tonight.
“Another?” I ask, wiping down the bar in front of him.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“If you’re going to keep calling me Beluga.”
I smirk, pulling out the bottle and pouring him another shot. “Depends.”
“On?” he asks when I slide the shot his way.
Our hands brush as he reaches for the glass, and I know I’m in trouble when I physically react to his touch. I pull my hand back quickly, and he notices but gives me a pass.
“On if you tell me your name.”
“Do you need my name?”
“I do if I’m taking you home tonight.”
I know it’s a challenge. A dare. Will he take the bait or not?
He throws back the shot and closes his eyes, savoring the afterburn. When he opens them again, there’s a fire within the blue, and I know I’ve won. Act unaffected, I tell myself as I wait him out.
“Demitri. Demitri Pavlov at your service.”
“Mia Alexander.”
I stick out my hand. Another challenge, and he doesn’t fail. He pulls my knuckles to his mouth and brushes his lips over them, an electric tingle racing through my entire body.
“Nice to officially meet you.”
“It’ll be even nicer with no clothes.” I smile before walking away to make more drinks. His low laughter hits between my legs and I know he’s leaving with me tonight.
PRESENT DAY
“Hey, Boss. Not sure how long it’s healthy to stand there and not blink.”
I’m brought back to the present by Brodie waving his hand in front of my face, a dopey grin on his.
“Shut up,” I chuckle.
“Let’s go. It’s been a long night, and I gotta go see a girl, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his brows dramatically.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I know what you mean. Get on out of here. I’ll lock up. Thanks for your help tonight.”
“See you tomorrow!”
He’s gone before I can reply, and I can’t help but smile after the kid. Kid? When did I become the old lady? Fuck, I’m only thirty-one years old.
I look at the engraving on the bar top, running my fingers over the words ‘ City Brews’ and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s because of my Beluga Boy that I leveled up. It’s because of him that I’m in the black every month and not worrying about keeping the lights on. Everything good in my life is because I met him one random weeknight. And I can’t tell him. I can never tell him how thankful I am to have him in my life. How big of an impact he has on everything around me.
I pull out the bottle of Beluga Gold Line and pour myself a shot. Letting the liquid slide down my throat, the afterburn smooth and a little sweet. There’s vanilla in this, which is why I had the cheaper bottle four years ago. I purchased this one the day after I met Demitri, and the only people who have ever tasted this bottle are him and me. And that’s how it will stay until the last drop.
After putting the bottle away, I clean the shot glass and wipe down the bar one more time. I pull the cash out of the register along with the card receipts and head back to my office. After a quick count, I bag the cash and put it in the safe for the night. The receipts I put into a file to deal with in the morning, and I turn off the lights. I double check the doors and walk through the now dark room and down the hallway. I step into my office long enough to grab my jacket, purse, and keys before locking up the back door and walking to my car.
It’s time to go home. Time to go to Demitri.