Page 10 of Whatever You Need

A laugh slipped out of me, and I tapped my index finger to my temple. “I never forget a pretty face.”

Shit! Was I flirting? The last time I saw her, I had to be a professional. Now, I was off the clock so all bets were off.

“This is crazy.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs and attempted to pull down the hem of her dress. Interesting I thought. Most women would be pushing it up to get my attention. “I just realized that I never got your name the other night."

I grinned at her. “That’s because you never asked me last time we met.”

Her red painted nails fiddled with the paper cocktail napkin resting on the wood countertop. “It was a little awkward, don’t you think?”

“Probably a bit more for you than me.” I extended my hand. “Why don’t we fix that and start again. I’m Marco.”

“Amelia.” She shook my hand. The warmth that spread through my chest from a simple touch caught me off guard.

“Nice to meet you, Amelia. Can I buy you a drink?”

Smooth, Marco. Real smooth.

“I’m not sure.” Her lips twisted. “The last time I drank, it didn’t end well.”

“I don’t think one drink will hurt,” I said, trying to put her at ease. But then I just couldn’t help myself, so I added, “Besides, I’m off duty tonight and I don’t have my handcuffs with me. I’m pretty sure you’re safe for now.” I winked.

I could see the battle in her head forming over wanting to share a drink with me and wondering if she shouldn’t. She had no reason to be nervous around me, but I was surprised at how much I liked that she was.

The bartender came over and leaned his arms along the bar. “Hello, Ms. West. What can I get you?”

I raised my eyebrow and looked between the two. “Hi, Charles, I’ll have a dirty martini with extra olives, please.”

“You can put that drink on my tab,” I interjected, wondering how the hell she was on a first name basis with a fifty-something-year-old bartender with a British accent.

Charles and Amelia stared at each other. Something oddly familiar passing between them. “Thank you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I insist.” I reached for my drink while the bartender went off to prepare hers. Once he was finished, he placed the glass in front of her and walked to another customer. “You must come here often. Either that or Charles is a friend of yours.”

“Actually, both.” She leaned forward, and I noticed the black silk fabric of her dress tighten around her breasts. I forced my eyes upward, not wanting to come across as a creeper. “I work here at the hotel.”

She dropped her gaze to her drink. I suspected something was troubling her, and I wanted to know the source of it.

I took a sip of my whiskey. “What do you do here at the Autograph?” I asked, hoping we would settle into easy conversation. Normally, I didn’t have to put an ounce of effort into impressing a woman, but I was anxious to keep things going long enough to see if she felt the same spark that I did.

Amelia played with the napkin underneath her glass. “A little bit of everything, I guess.”

A shadow flickered across her eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. There was something about the way she said the words that had the detective in me wanting to push and prod until she confessed whatever she was hiding. She seemed to have the weight of the world resting on her shoulders, and I had a sudden urge to take it all from her. Which was ridiculous because I barely knew her. She wasn’t my problem to worry about and I was off the clock. I had enough trouble of my own to worry about.

“Where’s the boyfriend tonight?” I asked, feeling nervous and uncertain about this whole exchange. I was normally confident, but Amelia caught my attention and I was feeling off my game.

“Pardon?”

“The guy you were with last time I saw you,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

She laughed, and the sound drowned out the chatter around us. I could listen to her laugh all day long. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No?” I assumed as much, but having her confirm it sent a grin sliding across my face.

She chugged the rest of her drink back and signaled for another refill. “That was a disastrous almost one-night stand.” She cringed. “I should be embarrassed. You didn’t actually catch me at my best moment.”

“Trust me, I’ve seen much worse.”

“I’m sure.” She averted her gaze away from mine. “It’s just that I don’t make a habit of doing foolish things like that.”

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