Chapter 10
TEN
TEN YEARS AGO
Jane grasped the handle beneath the Help Wanted sign duct-taped to the door at eye level. She could do this. She had to do this.
Teetering on her high heels, Jane stepped over the threshold, out of the California sun and into the shade of the club. The door swung shut behind her, and Jane was plunged into darkness. At just past eleven in the morning, the place was empty, the only illumination coming from the emergency signs marking the exits and a glowing blue lamp hanging over the bar.
She’d never been in a place like this in her life. The only bar in Linden Falls was the Harp and Fiddle, but since she was only eighteen, she’d never been allowed inside. Still, from the few glimpses she’d caught walking past the window, it was more of a small-town pub, with a scratched wooden bar and worn leather couches.
Jane blinked to adjust her eyes, gazing from the row of tufted-velvet booths to the shiny line of liquor bottles on the shelf, and then the DJ booth suspended above the dance floor.
The Harp and Fiddle was nothing like this.
Jane straightened her mini skirt. Linden Falls was a world away, and here in LA, she was no longer that girl whose dad would lose it if she was caught with a beer in her hand. Here in LA, she could be whoever she wanted.
Jane made her way across the empty dance floor, the tap of her heels echoing around the cavernous room. “Hello?” she called tentatively, looking for signs of a bartender, or maybe one of those bouncers who usually stood out front. At the long chrome bar, Jane paused, peering over the side, but all she found were rows of glasses and mini fridges holding champagne bottles. Maybe nobody was here? It was early for a club to be open. What if the door was left unlocked by mistake, and now she was breaking and entering? If she ended up in jail, nobody was going to bail her out.
But then again, she wouldn’t have to pay for her cheap motel room tonight either. How bad had it gotten that this fact felt like a silver lining? Jane breathed out a half-laugh.
“Can I help you?”
Jane pushed away from the bar, spinning around to find a man in a doorway under the sign leading to the bathrooms. Though he stood across the room, Jane could see that he was tall and muscular by how well he filled out the doorframe.
“Uh, hi,” she said, straightening her skirt.
The man wore a tight white T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and a pair of jeans that hugged his trim thighs. In the dark, blueish light, his hair looked almost black, curling from under the edges of a beat-up LA Dodgers hat, and over the nape of his neck. He reached up to brace himself in the doorway, and the muscles in his biceps contracted.
Jane’s breath hitched. He was without a doubt the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Though she’d always thought Nik was good-looking, he was a boy, and this… Well, this was a man. He was probably at least thirty .
Jane was left momentarily speechless. “I—” she stuttered.
The man let go of the doorframe and crossed the room to where Jane stood gripping the back of a barstool for balance. “Are you lost?”
“No.” Even in that one syllable, Jane heard her voice shake. “No, I’m, uh…”
Get it together. This is your chance. The thrift store clothes hadn’t been expensive, but she was dead broke so they might as well have cost millions. She wasn’t here to stare at a beautiful man with her mouth hanging open. She needed this job.
Jane let go of the barstool and stood up straight. “I’m here for the server job.”
The man stopped in front of her, and Jane had to tilt her head back to look up at him. A slightly amused smile slanted across his face. “You are, huh?” He had smooth bronze skin, high cheekbones, and inky lashes a mile long.
“That’s right.” She wobbled on her heels, undermining the confidence in her voice.
“Have you ever worked as a server before?”
Jane was tempted to stare over his shoulder but forced herself to look him in the eye. “Of course I have.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she said without hesitation, glad she’d practiced that on the way over.
The man’s gaze swept over her, heating every part of her it touched. “What’s your name?”
“Jane McCaffrey.”
“Jane, I’m Matteo.” He held out his palm, and she slipped her hand in his. It was warm, strong, reassuring somehow. “I’m the club manager. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll talk about your experience?”
The way his eyes lingered on her mouth made her feel like he was asking about more than just her previous serving jobs .
Jane slid onto a stool while Matteo rounded the bar and stopped opposite her. “Tell me about where you’ve worked as a server.”
Jane cleared her throat. “It was an Irish bar called the Harp and Fiddle in a small town you’ve never heard of.”
“Try me.”
Jane hesitated. The more honest she was, the less likely she was to mix up her story. Besides, what did this guy care about the middle-of-nowhere town where she’d grown up? What was he going to do, call her dad? “Linden Falls, New York.”
“Yeah.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Never heard of it.”
“Consider yourself lucky.” Jane felt a smile tug at her lips.
Matteo leaned an elbow on the bar. “So, Jane McCaffrey, what brought you to LA from…” He waved a hand like he’d already forgotten the name. “…East Bumfuck…?”
Jane shrugged. “You know. The usual things that bring people to LA.”
He ran a hand over his chin, stroking the hint of razor stubble. “You’re pretty enough to be an actress.”
Jane blinked at that. This beautiful man thought she was pretty? Suddenly, she was glad she’d ditched her too-big trousers and splurged on this tank top and skirt.
He shook his head. “But I don’t get the actress vibe from you.”
“I didn’t come to LA to be an actress.” Jane took a breath. “I’m a musician. A singer-songwriter.”
“Yeah? Are you any good?”
“Of course I am,” she said, with every bit of self-assurance she could muster. I got into every music school I applied to, didn’t I? But she’d just spent two weeks sitting in waiting rooms with dozens of aspiring stars who were only applying for office jobs until they got their big breaks. She’d learned pretty quickly that nobody gave a damn if you got into music school. They only cared about the clubs you’d played, which, for Jane, were none at this point.
Matteo confirmed this by asking, “Where are you playing these days?”
Jane bit her lip. “Uh, well, nowhere yet. I had to leave my guitar back in… uh… East Bumfuck. But I plan to buy another one soon and start booking some gigs.”
Matteo nodded like he believed it, and Jane wasn’t sure if he was humoring her or if she’d actually managed to pull off a little bit of confidence.
“What about you?” Jane changed the subject. “Where are you from?”
“LA, born and bred.”
“And you didn’t want to get out of here? Go someplace new?”
He raised his eyebrows, and Jane immediately realized she might have insulted him, implying he was somehow stuck in this club. “I mean… I didn’t mean that you need to…”
Matteo laughed. “I don’t need to get out of LA to go someplace new. I can just drive across town.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Apparently, it could take hours just to get from one end of the city to the other. Not that she’d had any chance to explore any part of LA that wasn’t within a square mile of the motel. But someday she would. If she managed to land this job, maybe she really would buy that guitar and start playing gigs all over town.
She’d been in this club for ten minutes and Matteo hadn’t kicked her out yet. In fact, he seemed to like her. Her confidence kicked up another notch. Jane flashed her most charming smile. “So… about the job…”
At that moment, a stocky, thirty-something man carrying a bucket of ice under each arm walked in. He gave Jane a nod as he crossed behind the bar to open a cooler and dump it in .
Matteo turned away from Jane to address the man. “Hey, did that tequila order arrive yet?”
The man set the ice buckets on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Nope. I called and they said it might not be delivered until tomorrow.”
“Goddamn it.” Matteo slapped a hand down on the bar, causing Jane to jump. “I’ve got a party coming in who specifically requested that brand.” His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.
“I told them you need it tonight,” the stocky man said. “But they’re understaffed and can’t get someone to the warehouse until tomorrow.” He held up his hands in an I’m just the messenger gesture. “Sorry, man.”
Matteo pushed away from the bar, his face turning red. “ Fucking hell. ”
Jane shrank back against her chair back. He was on the other side of the bar, and she didn’t really feel threatened. But experience had taught her to tense up when a man was turning red with anger.
But then Matteo’s shoulders relaxed, and Jane felt hers do the same.
“It’s okay,” he said, with a sigh. “I’ll call them later.”
The stocky man picked up his buckets and headed back the way he’d come.
Matteo turned to Jane with a shrug. “Sorry about that. This vendor has been screwing me over for weeks now.”
“I’m sorry,” Jane said. It was probably difficult to run a bar and try to meet so many customers’ demands. “Is there anywhere else to get that tequila? A liquor store or… I don’t know. Another bar, maybe?” And then her face heated up. She’d told him she’d worked in a bar before, so shouldn’t she know something about how to buy tequila? There probably wasn’t another way or he wouldn’t be so upset about it.
But a grin slowly spread across Matteo’s face. “You know what? Maybe there is.” He reached under the bar to pull out a phone, hitting a few buttons and pressing it to his ear. “Hey,” he said, when someone on the other end had answered. “How’s it going?”
There was a pause where the other person was clearly speaking, and then Matteo continued: “Listen, any chance you have an extra bottle of Jalisco Tequila? I have a customer who requested it and a supplier who’s pissing me off.” Another pause, and then, “I’ll pay you double, and I won’t call the health department and let them know your bathroom is a fire trap.”
The person on the other end said something, and Matteo tossed back his head and laughed.
Jane eyed the strong cords of his neck, the stubble on his jaw. And then she felt her cheeks turn crimson.
Matteo was staring back at her with heat smoldering in his dark eyes. He muttered something into the phone, and then something else, but she missed it entirely. Finally, he promised the person on the other end that he’d send someone over to pick up the bottle, and then he hung up the phone. “Well, Jane McCaffrey from East Bumfuck,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s a good thing you walked in here today. You saved my ass.”
Jane’s pulse picked up speed. “So, about the job. Does that mean…”
Matteo gave her a nod. “You’re hired.”
She breathed out a sigh. “Oh, thank you.” Thank God.
“You can work the party for the customer who requested the tequila tonight. That should earn you some big tips.”
“Great,” she murmured, hoping she sounded confident and not terrified.
Matteo smiled, half amused and half like he wanted to know what she had on under her tank top. “It looks like you’re my lucky charm.”
Jane forced a smile. She hoped so. She hoped she could pull this off, and earn enough that this would be the start of her new life in LA.
She hoped Matteo, this bar, and this new job would be her lucky charm, too.
Jane was a much better server than she’d expected. It wasn’t that hard, really. Since Matteo had assigned her to a private table, she didn’t have to worry about wading through the crowd on the dance floor. All she had to do was put in the drink orders with a red-haired bartender named Yolanda and carry them on a tray to the table.
Matteo roamed the club, slapping people on the back, laughing, charming everyone sitting at the private tables. Jane was drawn to him every time he walked by. He’d ditched the Dodgers hat and changed from his jeans and T-shirt into a pair of black pants and a fitted button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. If she’d thought he was attractive before, he could pass for a movie star now. She expected him to ignore her while they worked—he was the manager of the club, and she was just a small-town server after all—but when she passed near him, he met her eye, gave her arm a squeeze, held her gaze for an extra beat.
The club cleared out around 2 a.m., and Jane was finally able to get a minute to run to the bathroom. When she returned, she found Matteo alone behind the bar.
“Where is everyone?” Jane asked, as she piled glasses on a tray.
“The DJ had an after-party to work, and I sent Yolanda and the servers home.” Matteo wiped the counter with a rag. “They have to get up early to get their kids to school.”
“That’s nice of you.”
Matteo shrugged. “It means it’s just you and me cleaning up, though. I hope you don’t mind. ”
“I don’t have anywhere to be.” She set the tray on the bar and unloaded the glasses so Matteo could wash them.
“No?” He reached for a glass, his hand brushing hers. “No boyfriend waiting for you at home? Or back in East Bumfuck?”
Jane shook her head, shoving all thoughts of Nik out of her head. She couldn’t think of him now. This was her new life, and today had gone better than she could have hoped. Maybe everything would turn out okay.
They finished cleaning up, and Matteo handed her a roll of cash. “Great work tonight.”
Jane clutched the bills in her hand. She didn’t want to count it in front of him, but it looked like it was all twenties, and there were at least ten or fifteen of them. Had she really made over two hundred dollars? She stuffed it in her purse, a wave of relief washing over her.
Matteo put two shot glasses on the bar and poured in a pale gold liquid, sliding one in her direction. “Our lucky tequila.”
Jane had never had a drink before. Sometimes Nik, Ali, and Hannah would steal bottles of wine from their parents’ stash and drink it by the lake in Randall Park, but Jane stayed away from it. She couldn’t take the chance that Dad would catch her sneaking home smelling like alcohol. She’d always been a rule follower, had always done everything she could to keep Dad happy, to keep the peace in her house.
But look where it got her.
Jane picked up the glass. Matteo held out his in a toast and then tossed the liquid back. She mirrored his motion. Immediately, her throat ignited, and her chest felt like she’d swallowed acid. She gagged and tried not to choke. Thankfully, she managed to breathe through the pain and gulp down the drink without humiliating herself. A moment later, a warmth began to spread over her.
Matteo poured another shot, and this time she drank it without flinching. By the third, Jane felt positively giddy. She slid onto the bar stool, patting the pocket of her purse that held the money she’d earned. Hundreds of dollars in a single shift. That money would pay for at least a couple of nights in the motel, plus some real food. And if this kept up, maybe she could find her own little apartment somewhere.
Her attention turned to Matteo. God, he’s beautiful. Does he really think I’m pretty? Her head spun.
Matteo caught her watching him, and he set his shot glass down on the counter. A moment later, he’d rounded the bar and was standing in front of her. “You’re adorable, Jane from East Bumfuck.”
Jane flushed at that. She didn’t want to be adorable. She wanted to be sexy. Like the women who came into the club.
But then Matteo took a step closer, sliding his thigh in between her knees to spread them apart. Her skirt was so short it gave little resistance, and he settled there between her legs, staring into her eyes, mouth inches away. “The women who come in here are usually so jaded. But you… my lucky charm…” He leaned closer. “You’re so refreshing.”
And then he was kissing her, tangling his hands in her hair, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Jane had never kissed someone who wasn’t Nik before. Matteo’s thick razor stubble scraped her face, and his arms felt like tree trunks wrapped around her. He tasted like alcohol and a hint of tobacco. She kissed him back, lightheaded, holding on partly so she didn’t fall off the stool and onto the floor in a puddle of tequila and exhaustion.
“Come up to my place.” Matteo’s lips slid to her neck, and she felt herself melting. “I live upstairs.”
It was so appealing. Her feet were absolutely killing her in these heels. If she left the bar now, she’d be alone on the streets of LA at three in the morning. And when she got back to the motel, there would be the noise, the fights, the police cars zooming by with their sirens on.
Matteo’s hand slid beneath her shirt, slipping under the lace of her bra. He thrust his hips forward, his erection straining against his pants and pressing toward the center of her. He was the most attractive man she’d ever met, and he wanted her. Her head spun from the tequila and his nearness. She was so tired of feeling alone. “Okay,” she whispered.
He took her hand and led her up the steps to his apartment.