Chapter Two
Vanessa
“Hey, Beautiful, I’ll take two White Lightnings to my table over there.”
I glanced up at the suit, trying not to sigh at what I knew was coming next. He was just like the rest of them. Power suit, power haircut, power watch, power everything.
With a side of power-fucking-shits if I had my way and could spike his stupid drink with some laxative.
Not that I would actually do that, but it was fun to think about.
Like I was in a movie or something where that wouldn’t make me a horrible person.
Or lose my job, which I very much wanted to keep.
As tiring as it could be, dealing with the uppity office execs who frequented The Luxe Lounge most days of the week paid the bills and then some. A lot of “some.”
Come on, Van. Just get it over and done with.
“Sure,” I said, plastering a fake-as-fuck smile on my face. “Anything else?”
He grinned, revealing a set of teeth far too white to be real.
My money was on veneers, but he could just be lucky.
Although his personality was a steaming pile of liquid dogshit, I had to admit he was more than just money.
There were clean-cut good looks buried under the mountain of arrogance that was his ego.
Not that I was interested. Because he was about to ruin it, in three, two, one …
“Yeah, how about your phone number?” One side of his mouth curled up a little extra as he tried to play coy and smooth with me. As if I was supposed to be impressed by the fact he had money.
As if that meant anything to me.
“Two White Lightnings. That’ll be sixty,” I said, meeting his gaze and holding it, letting him see my lack of suitable awe at his wealth.
“Sixty?” he gaped, suddenly more concerned with his bank account than trying to pick me up.
It was my turn to smile. “Are our prices too much for you?” I asked with a touch of false innocence, noting that his friend at the table was covering his mouth with a hand, likely to hide the smirk. The table wasn’t so far away that the conversation would go unheard.
The Luxe wasn’t the type of place where the music was so loud you had to shout to be heard. Meaning his friend, and the table next to them, were all reveling in the asshole's predicament.
“Fine, whatever,” he said, tossing a black metal credit card on the bar. “Just start a tab, okay?”
“Sure thing … Wilfred,” I said, reading the name on the card out. “Can I see some ID to match?”
“It’s Will,” he said, but the wind was out of his sails, and we both knew it. He gave me a driver’s license. The names matched up.
“Those will be over soon,” I said, handing the license back and tapping the screen on my computer to open his tab and add the drinks to it. The button for his drinks very clearly read “$20.”
“Swear they said twenty on the menu,” Wilfred mumbled.
“You must be new here,” I said, tapping a sign embossed with black gold on the wall behind me. “You should read the rules first.”
He glanced up, his face closing down as he read the golden lettering.
Do not hit on staff. Surcharges will apply.
“Bastard,” he snarled.
“Excuse me?” My voice was cold.
For once, Will seemed mortified. “Not you! Him. My friend told me I should try getting your number.”
I laughed. “Apparently, you pissed off your friend, Wilfred. Perhaps I could suggest you find out what you did and make amends with him. Who knows how else he’ll try to screw you.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Wilfred turned and headed back to his table. I didn’t bother watching the ensuing conversation. I doubted it would change his overall attitude toward women.
“Fifty percent markup?” Todd asked from where he was already starting to make the drinks. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
“Maybe,” I admitted, feeling a sliver of guilt at my coworker’s question. “But if you constantly had to put up with that bullshit, you’d eventually tire of it, too. Make them a hair strong, will you?”
“Can do,” he said, adding a bit of extra whiskey to the drinks with a flourish. “Don’t get me wrong, though, I don’t think I could handle them as smoothly as you do, given how often it happens, which I’m sure is more often than I realize.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Oh, come on, Vanessa. You know I’m not trying to hit on you. But it’s not exactly hard to see you’re absolutely gorgeous. Legs for days, hips, long blonde hair. You’ve got it all.”
“You mean I look like every one of those bankers’ versions of a perfect platinum bimbo doll,” I said, not offended by his observations. “Minus the tits.”
Todd was a good guy who happened to be dating an absolute bombshell actress. There was no worry on my end that he might make a move or try to worm his way into my confidence. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this chat.
“Conventional beauty rarely goes out of style,” he said with a helpless shrug, topping off the drinks and pushing them my way. “Men like that, they aspire to have women who look like you. Boobs or not.”
“Yeah, but they don’t want them to have any smarts,” I countered. “Boobs over brains, and I have the wrong combo.”
The door opened to the street to admit a newcomer, who paused just inside. Likely looking for someone, so I ignored him.
I grabbed the drinks from the bar. “They just want the looks. If they knew I had a Master's in Biochemistry, they’d run for the door. It’s not a good look for them to date someone smarter than they are.”
“You really should just find a job in your field, then,” Todd suggested, not for the first time.
“Find me one that pays me this well and in cash,” I said, turning away as the newcomer approached the bar.
I heard Todd move over to talk to him, preventing me from being hit on yet again. Some days I wondered if I should feel so judgmental toward them. I knew I used my looks to make the kind of money I did. As I’d told Todd, I wasn’t an idiot.
So, was it wrong of me to wish that the men weren’t so blatant and rude about trying to take me home? None of them ever asked me about myself. They didn’t want me to talk. Just sit and look pretty and spread my legs for them.
As if.
Which was why, back when I had dated before … the accident … I’d tended toward more “run of the mill” men. Men who worked with their hands or whatnot. Basically, anyone who wasn’t the sort of clientele to frequent The Luxe was my type.
Not that I was comfortable dating anymore.
“Here you are, Wilfred,” I said, all but purring with polite sarcasm as I dropped the drinks off. “I hope you and your friend are getting along better now.”
The other man chuckled while Wilfred just glowered.
“I thought not,” I said, rolling my eyes and heading back behind the bar. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked Todd to make them stronger.
Todd flashed me a glance as I approached. The man who ‘d come up to the bar was still there, resting his palms on the edge of the bartop. But he wasn’t talking to Todd. I gave my coworker a slight frown. Was he trying to warn me of something? Should I turn away?
But it was too late.
I rounded the corner of the bar and looked up, making eye contact with him.
He was tall. Even leaning on the bar, he towered over Todd, who was a solid six-footer himself.
The shoulders of his suit looked ready to burst at the seams, as did the cuffs of the black button-up peeking out at the wrists.
His skin was oddly smooth but with a weathered texture to the fair coloring.
On anyone else, I’d say he was baby-faced, with the lack of scruff, but not this man.
And he was a man. There was no doubt about that. Every part of me felt his presence on a level I couldn’t register. He commanded my attention, but as his oddly silver eyes met mine, I was rocked by the intensity of his gaze.
“Vanessa, this is Vil,” Todd said, standing awkwardly between us. “He was asking after you.”
“Thanks, Todd,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away.
“Hello, Vanessa,” Vil said, extending a bear-paw of a hand toward me.
I tried to swallow, my throat swelling closed. All I could do was take his hand, trying not to jerk in surprise as liquid heat rolled up my arm, coiling in my breast before plunging between my legs. I reached out with my other hand, steadying myself on the back wall as my knees nearly gave out.
Get a hold of yourself, Van. He’s just another rich fuck, here to try and take you home.
And maybe he was. But he was one man I would let take me anywhere. I would hop up on the bar and give myself to him right there and then if that’s what he told me to do. There was no resisting that intensity, not when it was so singularly focused on me.
I saw carnal lust flash beneath his eyes, and somehow I knew he was thinking the same thing.
I wanted to feel his soft lips against my inner thigh, his hands sneaking up my legs to wrap strong fingers around my waist. His breath, hot and wet, a promise of what would come.
Whoever he was, he was a master of self-control because none of that desire went past his eyes.
Stay focused. You’re at work!
“W-what can I get for you today?” I asked, finally remembering to pull my hand back.
The heat between my legs didn’t fade. If anything, as he looked me over, it intensified.
I knew my nipples would easily be seen through the flimsy black material of my dress, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
He devoured me with his eyes, and I all but flung myself at him like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” Vil asked, his voice smooth and deep, sinking in past my skin, clawing at every nerve ending in my body.
Before I could reply, the doors burst open to admit two dozen men in suits, jacket buttons undone, and voices raised. They immediately started slapping cards down on the bar and ordering drinks.
“Sorry,” I said, snapped out of my reverie by the sudden onslaught of people and noise. “Uh, I have to … work. If you need a drink, just let me know.”
Vil looked ready to persist, but I turned away, moving to the other side of the bar before he could snare my attention once more.
Todd and I started working fast, ringing in drinks, starting tabs, making drinks, and then some shots and more.
More suits came in shortly, and Jillian emerged from the back to help handle the increased load as Friday truly got under way.
I never forgot about Vil, not entirely. But when the night finally ended, he was nowhere to be seen. I was left to wonder who he was and what he wanted from me. I was certain I’d never met him before. There was no way I could have forgotten someone like him.
I had to wonder, would I ever see him again?