Chapter 9
PLAY HER PART
Molly was nuts to be doing this again. She knew it, but the truth was she wanted to see if she’d still feel this confident dressed up differently than she’d been most of her life and being around Dean.
Was it the man? The bar? Or the clothes?
She was kind of hoping it was just the clothes, but when she put them on in her house she didn’t feel any different. Not until she convinced herself to go back to the bar.
So here she was on her lunch hour again. It was kind of tricky because she didn’t want to go to work looking like this and be questioned, so she’d had a plan.
Her plan was to ditch the penny loafers she had on with her tan skirt and put on nude heels that she’d just purchased and left in the car. Take her white cardigan off that was covering up her light blue chiffon bow tie blouse, replace her glasses with contacts and slick on some lip gloss.
The thong under her skirt was a last-minute decision she’d made this morning hoping it’d remind her to be confident.
When she walked into the bar, she’d seen it was pretty busy with a business lunch crowd and she wondered if coming here alone was such a smart move after all.
Too late now when Dean made eye contact with her, so she walked to the bar, found a seat and sidled up to play her part.
“It’s not even a Wednesday,” he said. “Seltzer?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m on my lunch break.”
“You sure look nice for a researcher. I guess I always expected a more drab outfit covered by a lab coat.”
“I wear a lab coat when there is a chance of getting dirty.” The last time she was here she’d said she had the afternoon off. Maybe he didn’t realize she’d come from work in those black pants and shirt.
Of course, in the office she had a bulky long sweater over her shirt and covering how fitted the pants were.
She wasn’t in the lab five days a week. Or if she was, it might just be testing samples or cultures.
Seeing the sustainability of products she was working on, looking for bacteria growth and so on.
That wasn’t as messy as experimenting with food, which was the part of the job she loved, even if she didn’t get to do it often.
“And that is probably why you keep your hair back in the lab,” he said. “Guess that’s what you were doing today.”
Shit, she’d forgotten to pull the band out of her hair. “It’s better at times.”
He slipped the menu in front of her. “Here for food, I’m assuming, since you said it was your lunch break.” He turned when a waitress came over and handed him an order, her hand trailing down his arm. He’d smiled back and turned to fill it but didn’t move from his spot just yet.
She was trying not to see crimson. She didn’t have any claim on the sexy man whose biceps were flexing under his red Pulse embroidered T-shirt. She was just a customer like so many others here.
Even a few other single ladies at the bar were trying to get his attention.
She had to be an idiot to think he was telling her things he hadn’t told other people.
He was probably just playing some kind of game like he did to everyone.
Better tips for sure.
“I’ll be back to get your order,” he said, moving over to help someone else.
She checked out the food selections and decided maybe a salad was the way to go. No reason to get something greasy and risk spilling it on herself.
While she watched Dean being friendly with a few other women, she felt her heart drop and realized that was how he was. It wasn’t just the waitress.
He wasn’t treating her any differently than anyone else who came into the bar.
She should have known that all along and wondered why she was so na?ve to fall for the fact that she thought he was flirting with her.
When he came back a few minutes later, he said, “Ready to order?”
“I’ll have the chef salad with house vinaigrette.” She pushed the menu toward him.
“Coming right up,” he said, moving away and punching it into the computer. “So I guess you find you like it here.”
“What?” she asked. She’d turned her head and was just looking around at the place.
She realized it was brighter during the day than the night she came in here when she was “ditch the date Molly.” She hadn’t realized that the last time she was here.
She’d been too focused on how she felt when she walked in to notice much more about her surroundings.
“You’ve been back once a week now for a few weeks,” he said, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a little twinkle almost coming her way.
Nah, men like him didn’t twinkle. What the hell was wrong with her? She was losing her mind thinking she was in some fairytale world where dorky women could transform into hot babes and land a guy like him.
She’d always felt like the outcast. She’d never fit in and she wondered why she was deluding herself that she could just because she purchased some new clothing.
Seeing Dean acting the same with the other single women at the bar just slammed her back into reality.
“Sometimes when I find something I like, I keep coming back until I wear it out,” she said. She had a grin on her face, but there was more truth to that than he would ever know.
By coming back today, she hit that spot well. It’d be the last time.
Dean was thrilled to see Molly walk back in today. He’d been hoping for it but came to not expect or rely on much in his life that he had no control over.
As much as he prided himself on controlling it all, he’d lost that battle years ago and had to pivot.
Hot chicks he wanted to bed weren’t something he could always control once Jonah came into his life.
She looked a little different to him today. Still the same sexy clothes, but definitely work-related clothing. With her hair pulled back, he could admire how sharp her cheekbones were. How clear her blue eyes, that were normally smiling at him—but weren’t right now—happened to be.
She’d come in in one mood but seemed to have taken a turn and he wasn’t sure the cause.
He couldn’t say she looked almost sad. More like distracted.
“Bad day at work?” he asked when he put her salad in front of her and refilled her seltzer.
“What?” It was the second time he’d asked her a question and it was like she was in another world.
“I asked if you were having a bad day. You looked lost in thought. Trying to figure out how to analyze the lunch I just put in front of you? I can assure you that those meats aren’t processed, but cooked fresh each day.”
“And it looks it. This is great. It’s huge. Definitely more than one person can eat.”
“That’s because you’re just a little thing.”
She laughed, some of the sadness he’d seen earlier gone for a brief flash. “I’m hardly little. I’m the tallest of the girls in my family.”
“Oh, there is more than one of you?” he asked. “Bet your father had to fight the guys off.”
“Not usually for me,” she said and looked away.
There was some bitterness there. “I’m sure you’re being modest. How many other girls are there?”
He never asked personal questions like this and wasn’t sure why he was.
Maybe because spending the morning with Jonah and having Sheila bust his ass that he needed a woman in his life stuck more than it had before.
And if he ever attempted to bring someone in, he had to know enough about them. Or them to know some more about him.
Molly already knew he had a son, so that alone was one step ahead of most.
“I’ve got an older sister, Erika. She was the popular one.
I wasn’t. So you know, I didn’t get that kind of attention.
Got a brother, Matt, who’s older too. And if I’m really confessing things, I found out about seven years ago I’ve got a half-sister I never knew about. Why am I telling you all of this?”
She was shaking her head and looking around as if the answer would magically appear out of nowhere.
He reached over and patted her hand. “I’m used to it and trust me when I say I’ve heard it all. But I still think you’re being modest.”
Her eyes flickered up and met his when he touched her. He just had to. He wanted to see why she was haunting his dreams. Shit, why she was haunting his waking hours too.
Her blue eyes dilated, her breath came out in a tiny whoosh, and he got the answer he was waiting for.
She was feeling the attraction as much as him, yet for some reason he could see the doubt when it wasn’t there last week.
If it had to do with him having a kid, she wouldn’t have come back, so it couldn’t be that.
“I bet. My life isn’t all that exciting,” she told him.
“I wouldn’t know by looking at you. They say blondes have all the fun, but I bet redheads have the most.”
She coughed on her lunch, then picked up her seltzer. “Or we are the devil’s daughter,” she said. “I’ve heard that a few times too.”
“I haven’t,” he said. “You probably don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Or I try not to.”
“Dean.” He turned and looked at one of the waitresses who came in from the kitchen. “Marcus needs to see you.”
He sighed. “I’ll be right back. Temperamental chef. Maybe I’ll threaten him with you breaking down his dishes if he wants to give me shit. Sheila,” he said to another bartender, “cover me while I deal with Marcus.”
He went to the back and felt like strangling the man who was cock blocking him without even knowing. “We’re short ribs,” Marcus said, stalking around.
The little man—in Dean’s eyes—was almost burning a hole in the floor with his pacing. “You’re a short rib?” he asked, knowing that Marcus would snarl back. He did. “Or we don’t have enough ribs for the menu?”
“I wanted to have ribs on for the special tomorrow. They need to marinate overnight. I told you that over the weekend. You said you’d have them here.”
“And they are,” Dean said. “They were delivered yesterday afternoon.”
“There aren’t enough,” Marcus argued, walking over and pointing to the pile on the counter.
He knew there was more than that. “I ordered what you told me.”
“I told you double what is here.”
Days like this he wanted to just get in his employees’ faces and tell them who was boss.
They knew he managed the place, that he even hired and fired, but most weren’t all that fearful of him, thinking there was a man behind the scenes.
One who wasn’t named Dean Easton but rather a company called DT Holdings.
“Did you look in the other cooler?” he asked. There were two walk-in coolers and a massive freezer.
“Everything is always put in the front.”
He walked away, went to the one further back, opened it up, saw immediately where the rest of the ribs were and marched back.
“I found them. It took me ten seconds. You could have done that yourself rather than acting like an ass. And before you bitch about why they are there, it doesn’t matter.
They are. Go get them. Do what you need to to them, and do your damn job. ”
He rarely lost it like that, but for once, he felt he was on a roll with something else and didn’t want it derailed.
He came back out just in time to see Molly signing her receipt and putting her card back in her wallet. Shit, he would have been pissed if she snuck out, because something told him she might not be back.
“Hey. You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” he asked.
“I need to get back to the office.” Her fingers were twisting the strap of her purse around. Fidgeting like she wasn’t sure what to do or say.
“Do you want to take the rest of your salad with you?” he asked. There was at least half left and he was reaching for a container.
“Sure.”
He filled it up and decided since he was one to take risks so much in his life, why not now? “So, I get Mondays off. How about we get lunch that day? Not here,” he said, laughing. “It might be nice to taste someone else’s food for a change. I like to be home with Jonah and he has Pre-K that day.”
He wasn’t sure why he was over explaining things, but there was no reason to hide the fact that his time was limited.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“Last I looked, that is what it was called. But you’re free to say no.” For some reason she almost looked like a deer caught in the headlights. That was odd. Just as odd as it was she was gripping her purse as if it were her lifeline.
She hesitated for a few more seconds and then finally said, “I’d like that.”
“Can I get your number?” he asked. “I’ll figure out when and where and let you know.”
“Sure,” she pulled over a napkin and wrote her number down, then pushed it back.
“I’ll be in touch.”
She nodded her head and walked out, his eyes never leaving that fine ass of hers he was hoping to tap.