Page 27 of Her Possessive Daddies

She sighs with relief, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I echo, smiling myself. “Now get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Corey,” she says, her voice soft, almost shy.

“Goodnight,” I reply, my voice warm, husky. I wait until I hear the soft click of her hanging up before I set my phone down, a slow smile spreading across my face. She’s something else, alright. And I have to have more.

13

ABBIE

The ice clinks against glass as I mix another old fashioned. I resist the urge to check my pocket for the third time, and I force myself to finish garnishing the drink. Head in the game, Abbie.

"Here you go." I slide the cocktail across the bar, pocketing the tip with a smile.

My fingers itch as I fumble with my apron. Corey's probably wondering why I haven't responded to his last message. God, Thursday night was mortifying enough without me acting like some lovesick teenager now.

"Can I get a Manhattan?" A suited man waves from the end of the bar.

"Coming right up."

There goes my phone again. I feel my cheeks heating up as I measure out the whiskey. What must he think of me after that drunken phone call? Sure, he said all the right things, made me feel beautiful and wanted, but that's probably just what successful older men like him do. They know exactly what to say.

I garnish the Manhattan with practiced precision, though my hands shake slightly. When I finally cave and check my phone, there are a few messages from him:

Looking forward to seeing you again.

You're probably busy. Text when you can.

I tap out a quick "Sure, no problem" before shoving the phone back in my pocket.

The bar's starting to fill up, and I throw myself into mixing drinks, grateful for the distraction. But every time the door opens, my heart jumps. I keep picturing Corey walking in, remembering how his voice got all deep and gravelly that night on the phone, how he…

No. Focus on work. Stop being pathetic. He probably does this with lots of girls - finds some young thing to boost his ego, makes her feel special for five minutes. You're just the flavor of the week.

I grab more ice, purposely keeping my back to the door. The less I think about him showing up, the better.

"Hey girl." Lacey sidles up next to me, her glossy red lips curved into a knowing smile. "Got some news."

"What's up?" I wipe my hands on my apron, grateful for the distraction from my Corey-induced spiral.

"VIP suite wants you specifically." She bumps my hip with hers. "Someone's a little obsessed with you."

The bottle of vodka nearly slips from my grip. "Me? Are you sure?"

"Trust me, this is major. VIP customers drop hundreds just on drinks. Tips are insane." She leans in closer, voice dropping. "Plus, you never know what kind of... connections you might make up there."

I instantly feel nauseous.

Lacey smiles reassuringly. "I know that look. Girl, you're a natural. Besides..." She glances around before continuing. "Word is there's some seriously loaded guys up there tonight. Like, own-half-the-city loaded."

“No. No way. I can barely make a decent cocktail, let alone serve VIP customers!" My hands flutter uselessly at my sides. "This has to be some mistake."

"No mistake. They specifically asked for - and I quote - 'the new girl with the curly brown hair.'" Lacey grabs a service bin from under the counter. "Here, help me load this up. We need premium spirits, the best garnishes..."

"But what if I mess up their drinks?" The thought of disappointing some wealthy clientele makes my stomach churn. "Can't you come with me?"

"They asked for you, sweetie. And trust me, these guys aren't your typical rich assholes. The one who asked for you? Total hunk in an expensive suit." Lacey starts loading bottles into the bin. "Grab those crystal glasses, would you? The fancy ones we save for special occasions."

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