“Have a seat, big brother. I want to run something past you.” Maggie pats the couch beside her.
I stay silent as I listen to her catch Barry up to speed.
“So wait, Crew Ledger is the guy you’ve been all swoony over from Coffee House?” he asks.
I nod.
“Crew’s a good guy. Although, I don’t ever remember him being serious with anyone. He and I aren’t close, but we’ve hung out a few times with Zane.”
“Yay, he’s a great guy. What the hell am I going to do, guys?”
“Why do you have to do anything?” Barry asks.
“I told her to see how it goes. See if this attraction still goes both ways once they get to know each other,” Maggie chimes in.
“I have to agree with Mags on this one. Maybe in a week you’ll wonder what you ever saw in the guy.”
I release a heavy sigh. I wanted them to fix this situation for me, but they can’t. I have to be the one to decide that I can or cannot work for him. If I decide to stay, which is the decision I’m leaning toward, I just need to be the mature adult I am and fight it. I can’t be the first person in history attracted to her boss. I can do this.
“I’m going to bed.”
“Don’t stress over it. Whatever happens will happen,” Maggie says.
I give them both a hug and head to my room, stopping by the kitchen on my way to make myself a bowl of cereal. I don’t plan to come out until morning.
WHEN I PULL into a spot in front of Coffee House, I tell myself it’s because I slept later today and didn’t have a chance to make coffee after tossing and turning most of the night before exhaustion finally took over. Taking a deep breath, I climb out of the truck and head inside. Berklee looks up when she hears the bell over the door. Her eyes light up when she sees me, but otherwise nothing changes. She plants a polite smile and greets me.
“Good morning, Mr. Ledger. Your usual?” she asks.
Mr. Ledger? “Crew,” I correct her. “Yeah, the usual, thanks, Berklee.”
She nods once and turns to pour my coffee. Today she’s wearing tight jeans that hold her ass just as well as the blank pants she usually wears, paired with a black sweater and boots that come up to her knees. “That will be two dollars,” she says, sliding the cup toward me.
Just like all the mornings before this one, before she was my employee, I reach out before she can pull away just to get a small feel of her soft skin. That’s partly the reason I couldn’t sleep last night; I kept feeling her pressed against me, her bare knee begging for me to rest my hand there.
“You’re welcome.” Her voice is soft.
“I’ll see you later?” It’s a stupid question, but it keeps me here, just the two of us, a little longer. The bell over the door tells me we are no longer alone. I curse it and bless it at the same time.
“Yeah, I’ll be there around four,” she agrees.
“Damn, good help’s hard to find,” a male voice says from behind me. I instantly whip my head around, ready to pound the fucker for his comment.
When I turn, fists clenched, I see Barry and. . . .
“Barry, Maggie, what are you two doing here?” Berklee asks from behind the counter.
“I was called in last minute to sub so we decided to stop in and say hello on our way to work,” Maggie explains.
“Hey, man, how’ve you been?” Barry asks me.
I force myself to relax and unclench my fists. Something they both take note of. Fuck me. “Good, just staying busy getting the club up and running.”
“You got a good one there.” Barry points over my shoulder toward Berklee.
“That’s what I’m told.” I’m being a dick, but what else do I say? That I know that she’s a good one from the feel of her soft hands, or that her scent of strawberries is still in my truck? Maybe I should tell him that I fisted my cock to the image of her burned into my brain. I don’t say any of that. Instead, I watch her as she talks and smiles at her friend.
“Hi, Crew, I’m Maggie. I don’t know if you remember me.” She holds her hand out for me to shake.
“Yeah, I think you were there when we stopped by to pick Barry up a time or two,” I say, pulling my eyes off of Berklee.
“Yeah. It’s odd that the two of you have never met, considering Berklee was always at our place growing up.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree.
“It’s a small world.” Maggie grins.
“Right, so what can I get for you two?” Berklee takes control of the conversation.
“The usual,” they both say in unison.
This has me turning to face Berklee. “You remember all your customers’ orders?” I ask her.
“Just the ones I care about.” She immediately slaps her hands over her mouth and a beautiful blush coats her cheeks. “I mean, they’re family,” she tries to backpedal.
Leaning over the counter, I motion for her to lean forward. When she does, I place my lips next to her ear. “What am I?” Moving back, I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, my eyes never leaving hers. I watch as she swallows hard and takes a deep breath. I don’t wait for her reply; her body spoke for her. “Keep the change. I’ll see you later.” With that, I pick up my coffee, wave goodbye to Barry and Maggie, and head back to my truck.
When I pull up to the club, I sit in my truck and stare at the coffee in my cup holder. That’s how this started, me needing a dose of caffeine. That’s when Berklee was just a gorgeous girl at Coffee House who I busted checking me out. Now that same girl works for me and I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t know how to not see her as the girl with autumn-colored hair, sky blue eyes and the tightest ass I’ve ever seen. How do I see her as just an employee?
I’m startled out of my thoughts when Zane bangs on my window. “Got ya.” He laughs.
Grabbing my coffee, I climb out of the truck.
“What were you doing just sitting there?” he asks.
“Just running through a mental checklist of all the shit that still needs to be done.”
He spies the cup in my hand. “You see Berklee this morning?”
“Yeah, she was there. So were Barry and Maggie.”
“Sounds like a family affair. Should I feel bad that I wasn’t invited?”
“Not my family,” I remind him. “Maybe you should ask them.”
“So, I have some more interviews set up for today—servers, bartenders and a few more guys for security. I thought we could let Berklee lead them, see how our new administrator conducts business.”
“Probably not a bad idea, considering neither one of us really knows the legality of interviewing.”
“I’m sure there’s shit we’re asking that we’re not allowed to,” he agrees. “I have them all starting at five. I thought that would give Berklee an hour or so to look over the applications.” He hands me a stack of papers. “These are your copies.”
I don’t bother looking at them, just shove them in my bag and head inside. “You know what we’re looking for,” I tell him.