“So, what’s on the agenda for today other than the interviews later?”
“I ordered the office furniture last night. I have a meeting with a supplier for the liquor and beer at eleven, and an appointment on Friday with a security company. That’s the soonest they could be here.”
Zane claps his hands. “Now we’re talking.”
“Other than that, just waiting on the bar mirrors to come in and some additional lighting. Ridge said he or one of the guys would come back and hang it once it comes in.”
“What do you need from me?”
I toss him a book from the liquor vendor. “They have the best prices around. I need to compile a list of what we want to stock.”
“This I can handle.” He grins. Walking over to the bar, he grabs one of the new pads of paper and a pen and starts working on his list.
I open my laptop and pretend to be engrossed in e-mails, but all I can think about is getting my fucking head straight. I look at the clock; I have seven more hours until she shows up. Time to get my shit together.
“List is done,” Zane says, laying the paper on the table in front of me.
Glancing at the clock, I see that’s its almost noon. “I’m going to go hang some flyers and grab a bite to eat while I’m out.” He rubs his stomach. “You need anything?”
“Nah, I’m going to run out too. I have to get Mom a card. It’s her birthday next week.”
“All she gets is a card?” he asks.
I laugh. “You know better. I like to mail her a card, but I have a gift for her too. It’s actually for both of them. I got them a cruise to the Caribbean.”
Zane whistles. “She’s gonna love that.”
“I know. Dad already knows. I had to swear him to secrecy, but I needed him on board to make sure their schedules were cleared.”
“All right, man. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I grab my keys and follow him out. It takes me no time at all to pick out a card for Mom, and then I hit the drive-through and grab a burger and fries. By the time I make it back to the club, it’s gone. Seeing it’s now almost two o’clock, I decide to answer some e-mails while I wait for Zane and Berklee.
A few minutes before four, I’m pacing. Zane’s not back, and I need him to be a buffer. The sound of the door opening and her heels against the floor tell me that’s not going to happen. I stop pacing like a crazy person and turn to face her.
“Hey.” She waves.
My cock comes to life, not sure if it’s the sweet sound of her voice or just her, just Berklee. What I do know is that it’s wrong of me to imagine picking her up and pushing her against the wall, her long legs wrapped around my waist. I know that it’s wrong to think about kissing her neck while feeling her body tighten around me. I shift my stance, trying to hide my reaction to my little daydream and greet her. “Hi. We have some interviews set up around five.” I look down at my watch. “Zane should’ve been back by now.” All business. I need to remember that. Keep things professional, no fucking hard against the wall.
“No worries if he’s not. Do you happen to have résumés or applications so I can get an idea about the candidates before they get here?”
I walk over to where my laptop bag is sitting on the bar and pull out the stack of papers that Zane gave me earlier today. “Here you go,” I say, holding them out for her. This time I make sure we don’t touch.
“Thanks. What are we interviewing for?”
“Let’s sit.” I motion for the small table that’s still set up in the middle of the room. “Bartenders, servers, and security are still on the list.”
“Cleaning crew?” she asks.
“I have that lined up already.”
“Good.” She begins to flip through the applications. “This girl, Carly, she’s got bartending and server experience. That’s good.”
“Mmhmm. I’m going to go make a call. I’ll be right back,” I say, standing abruptly. I need to distance myself. She nods but never takes her attention from the applications in her hand.
Stepping outside, I pull out my phone and call Zane.
“Yeah,” he answers.
“Where the hell are you? We have interviews soon.”
“Flat tire. The spare is shit, so I had to call Dad to pick me up. We’re going to get a new one.”
Shit.
“You and Berklee are going to be flying solo on this one.”
“All right, later.” Taking a deep breath, I head back inside so Berklee and I can make a game plan.
“Crew, there are some good applicants here,” she says when I join her back at the table.
“Yeah, Zane’s been spending a lot of time finding them. Speaking of Zane, he’s not coming. Flat tire.”
“Oh, no worries.” She waves her hand in the air. “We got this.”
“I was thinking I’ll let you take the lead on this. The only experience I have are the interviews we held last week, and I wouldn’t exactly call them professional.”
“Got it.” She grins. “So, how many of each are we looking for?”
She and I spend the next half hour discussing hours of the club and staff needed. She’s very smart and thinks about the big picture.
She’s definitely an asset to Club Titan—as long as I can keep it professional.
“SORRY ABOUT THAT,” I tell Crew.
“For?” he asks.
“I kind of took over during the interviews. I’m just excited to be using my degree. This is what I enjoy and I got caught up.”
He laughs. “Berklee, that’s your job. You don’t need to apologize to me for doing your job.”
“I know, I just. . . . Oh never mind. It’s just me being silly. I’m not a control freak, I promise.”
Again, he laughs. “Good to know. Now, what do you think about the candidates?”
“I really liked Carly, Janet and Casey for servers. Carly is also trained as a bartender so she could float. Heath for security, for sure, and Sam for the bar,” I rattle off.
“Zane and I already hired one for security. His name is Tank.”
“Does the name fit?”
He studies me. “He’s a big guy, why?”
“No reason, just his name alone screams ‘security.’”
Looking at my watch, I see that it’s after eight. Just as I’m about to ask if he needs me for anything else tonight, my stomach growls loudly.
“Shit,” Crew mumbles. “We’re done for the night. Let’s go grab some dinner.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I tell him. I know my face is red, so I might as well own it.
“Don’t be. I knew you were coming here straight from your other job. I should’ve made sure you’d eaten.” He stands and holds his hand out for me. “Come on, my treat.”
I don’t argue, although I know I should. I should stand on my own and not take his hand, should drive my ass straight home. Instead, I place my hand in his and allow him to help me from the chair.
“I know a great pizza place. How’s that sound?”
My stomach growls again. “Great, actually. I love pizza.”
He looks down at me with a boyish grin. “Me too.”