Page 2 of Falling for the Bad Boy
"Then I might not have the number." I shrugged, enjoying the way her forehead creased. If she wanted to play hardball, I’d be happy to join in for a round or two.
"Really?"
"Look, I'm just curious about why you need it, that's all. The building's been for sale. He's not interested in renting out the space next door." I knew that for a fact. My boss had been trying to buy the building from the crusty landlord but was waiting for a chance to lowball the man and get a better price. While I didn’t exactly agree with his methods, I might benefit from the result.
"Don't worry, I'm not trying to rent out the space next door."
Good. After the boss bought the building, he planned on opening up the wall and expanding into the extra space. If all went well, he’d be able to start his own craft brewery with the extra room and maybe have room to hire me on full-time and save me from going home to tend sheep.
I shrugged. "So then why do you need his number?"
She rolled her eyes. "Because I'm supposed to meet him here and he's late."
"What, like on a date?" I couldn’t see it myself. The building owner had to be in his late seventies. No way could the firecracker in front of me get hot for a guy who had to be three times her age.
She almost choked on the sip she'd just taken. "Seriously? Is that what you automatically assume? That I'm going to drop my drawers for a guy old enough to be my grandfather?"
"Damn, sorry. Just wondering why you're being so secretive about the whole thing."
"I’m not being secretive, you’re just nosy. I'll stick around for a few more minutes and see if he shows up."
"Suit yourself." I moved down the bar to where a server held out a drink ticket. As I pulled on the tap, I kept an eye trained on the gin and tonic. Who spat in her Weet-Bix this morning? That's what my little sister used to ask when I’d stumble to the breakfast table, pissed off and hungover.
Thinking of home brought a smile to my face for a moment. Then I remembered my days in the US were numbered. I wasn't ready to go home, wasn't ready to give up my dream and settle down to the quiet life my parents had created. But unless I figured out a way to get a job that would keep me in the States, I wouldn't have a choice.
The crowd picked up, and I moved back and forth between filling orders, cashing out tickets, and keeping the servers on the move. By the time I had a moment to breathe, someone had taken the seat next to the woman at the bar. The kid appeared to be trying to chat her up but was striking out in spectacular fashion. He couldn’t even stay on his stool.
"You need some help?" I asked as I gestured to the happy drunk on her right.
"Thanks, I’ve got it." She glanced up, her hand wrapped around the near empty glass.
"How about another drink?"
At her slight nod, I reached for a clean glass.
The kid continued to pepper her with questions. She tried to be polite, but I could tell by the way her shoulders rose and fell that she was about to lose it.
I rounded the bar, making my way over to escort the drunk Romeo back to his friends when the guy reached for her arm. She pulled away, setting the poor kid off balance. He tumbled toward her, knocking her off her stool. I reached out to catch her, her breasts smashing against my chest, her mouth pressing against my neck.
"I’m so sorry." She placed her palms on my chest, pushing away from me.
"No worries. Looked like you might need a little help there." I offered a hand to the drunk kid on the ground. He got up, his fingers rubbing at a lump on his temple. "I think you owe this lady an apology."
"Sorry," the kid mumbled. Then he grabbed his beer off the bar and stumbled toward a table of jeering friends.
"You okay?" I leaned toward her, trying to get a read on whether or not she was alright.
"I’m fine. You know what? If Eugene shows up, will you ask him to give me a call?"
"You want to tell me what this is about?"
"Not really."
I backed up, palms out. "Okay then. I'll pass the message along."
"Thanks." A hint of vulnerability sparked in the depths of those green eyes. "And thanks for catching me."
At the hint of softness, I took the opportunity to make an introduction. "That's what I'm here for. Hey, I'm Oliver by the way."
