Page 29 of The Hookup
“You have a built-in radar, do you?”
“It’s a skill of the job.” It became easy to read people, in the line of work that he was in.
“I imagine you see all sorts, more than you let on,Mr. Bartender.”
“Are you still sore about that?”
“No. I find it amusing.”
He said nothing in response to that, then, “Who is he?”
“A guy from work.”
He’d heard parts of the conversation between the two of them, and Luke was sure the guy wanted more than to share a cab home. His people would usually step in at that point, and try to defuse the situation, call separate cabs, if necessary. He didn’t want any trouble in his establishments, even if his customers were in the process of leaving. Bad publicity could kill a business.
But he wasn’t yet sure why he had stepped in, and why he had then offered to drive her home. Yes, Sunnyside, the area where she lived, was on his way, but he was so entrenched in his business rule of not getting involved with the clientele, that this situation now seemed at odds with his rules.
“He has a soft spot for you.”
“Ew no!” She cried, bunching her face up in disgust. “Don’t say that. It makes me want to throw up.”
“You don’t see it?”
“I prefer not to even think about it.” She turned her face away and looked out of the car window. “He took care of a client deal for me while I was away and he thinks I owe him,” she said after a while.
“A client deal? What type of client deals do they have you secretaries get involved with?”
“Uh…oh, just some hospitality stuff,” she replied, turning to face him. Her eyes widened, exactly as if she’d been caught in a lie. “Dinner followed by theater stuff.”
Dinner followed by theater stuff?She’d thrown a smart leather jacket over her dress, and looked sexy, and smart at the same time. But as nice and as appealing as she looked, he was not going to go there, he reminded himself. The only reason he was giving her a lift home was because he wanted to make sure she got home safely.
He parked up outside her apartment block.
“Thanks for taking me home,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Would you like to come in?”
“It’s way past three.” It was beyond late. There was only one reason she was asking that question, and it wasn’t because she wanted him to taste her coffee beans.
“It’s Saturday tomorrow.”
“Some of us have to work,” he told her.
“You own the place! Surely you don’t have to slave away behind the bar. Surely you don’t even have to step foot in the place, unless you want to.”
“I’m a workaholic. I practically live at the bar.”
“Even workaholics needs to relax.”
He could detect the suggestion in those words, and he weighed up the alternative. Her jacket gaped open, the beads on her dress glittering as they caught the light of the lamppost. He was open to having girlfriends, just that he preferred not to get involved with people from the bar, or friends, because he was never one to get deep, or open up. He didn’t want or need that kind of vulnerability. Usually, he met women while he was doing the most normal of things; like going out to get groceries, or getting a haircut, or a sports massage. The relationship with the sports masseuse had been his most recent one, and it had soured, when she wanted to know more about him, when she wanted more than just sex. He cut her off, told her it wasn’t working for him, and changed his sports masseuse.
Those were the types of women he allowed himself to get close to.
Kay was going to be complicated.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” she repeated.
