“What can I say?” I shrug. “The club is just around the corner, and this is the best coffee in town.”
“Noah,” Carrie says, “Berklee gets the employee discount always.”
“Carrie, you don’t have to do that.”
She waves me off. “You worked here for years, and I want to. You will always be a part of the Coffee House family.”
“Thank you.”
She nods, pats Noah’s shoulder and walks back to her office.
“Here you go, Berklee,” he says with a flirty wink.
“Thank you.” I hand him my card and he swipes it. Reaching into my purse, I pull out a couple of ones and drop them in the tip jar.
“Have a good one,” he says, handing me my card and receipt.
I grab the drink carrier and leave Noah and his flirty winks behind. When I arrive at the club, Zane and Crew are both parked out front. “Good morning,” I say, pushing open the door with my hip, careful not to spill the coffee.
“Let me help you.” Zane comes rushing toward me.
He takes the carrier and I pull mine out. “Those two are the same, tall and black.” I grin.
“Thanks. You’re taking all kinds of care of me.” Zane chuckles. “I finished off that dip you made yesterday.” He rubs his stomach.
I laugh. “It’s so easy even you can make it. I’ll write it down for you.”
“Or you could just make it for me again,” he says as we reach the table where Crew is sitting with his laptop in front of him.
“Fine, I’ll make it for you, lazy man. Just tell me when you want it.”
“Make me a list. I’ll buy whatever you need. It just tastes better when you make it.” He bats his eyelashes at me.
“Really? You might want to make it yourself first before you make that assumption.”
He places his hand over his heart. “I can feel it.” He winks and I roll my eyes.
“What the hell are you going on about?” Crew asks. Zane hands him his coffee and he looks up at me, those dark eyes so intense, taking me in. “Thank you.” He holds up his cup before taking a sip.
“You’re welcome.” I’m proud that I’m able to tamp down the lust enough to even reply. When I graduated college, I never dreamed that my biggest hurdle after actually landing a job would be my sexy-as-hell boss.
“Berklee made this dip, dude.” Zane closes his eyes and groans. “So fucking good.”
“Dip?” Crew questions. I can see the confusion in his eyes.
“Yeah, I went over there Saturday and we watched the fight. Berklee here made this dip, and I’m telling you man, it’s like crack,” Zane boasts.
“You were at her place?” Crew asks. His voice is low and gravelly, his eyes flashing between the two of us.
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s my cousins’ place. They all live together,” Zane confirms. “Anyway, Maggie and Berklee made the food and this dip? So good. I was just convincing her to make it again.” He turns to me. “Really, make a list. I’ll buy whatever you need.”
I laugh. “Okay. It’s just a few ingredients. It’s easy to make, so you really could handle it on your own.”
“Nah, it’s always better when someone else makes it.” He winks.
“You didn’t mention you had company,” Crew says, his dark eyes piercing me.
I shrug. “Don’t see how it matters.”
“Wait a minute. Is he”—Zane points to Crew—“who you were texting when you missed the KO?”
I bring my cup to my lips and take a slow sip, buying some time.
Zane takes that as confirmation. “Damn, man, you made her miss the KO. Don’t you know not everyone works 24/7?”
“I told you not to reply,” Crew says, his voice softer. Almost apologetic.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I know some of the fighters from living with Barry.” Crew’s jaw ticks at this. “But I’m not a hard-core, ‘have to watch every minute’ fan or anything.” I point to Zane. “He’s the one who insisted we rewind it so I could see.”
“It was an epic KO, B, and you missed it!” Zane exclaims.
“We’ve got work to do,” Crew snaps.
I immediately clamp my mouth shut. It’s obvious he’s pissed off, and I don’t want to poke an angry bear.
Zane, on the other hand. . . .
“Chill out, man. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” He smirks.
I can tell from the look on Zane’s face that he’s baiting his friend. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Crew’s not impressed.
Crew ignores him and turns his attention toward me. I hold my breath, waiting for the wrath and possibly the words “You’re fired.” They never come.
“Berklee, I have a list of things that need to be taken care of, much like the manual we talked about.”
Releasing the breath I was holding, I reply, “Great. I brought my laptop, just let me run out to the car to get it.”
“No need, I bought you both one.” He points to the two white Apple boxes sitting on the bar. “The furniture is also being delivered for the offices today.” He looks down at his watch. “Should be here any minute.”
“Great.” I don’t really know what else to say. He’s clearly pissed, yet trying to contain it by getting down to business.
The sound of the door opening has the three of us turning to look. “Delivery for Crew Ledger,” the guy says.
“This way.” Crew points up the stairs. “Berklee, why don’t you set up your laptop. Zane and I are going to make sure they don’t need any help.”
I nod my agreement and watch as they walk upstairs to check that the furniture is placed correctly. I make my way to the bar and grab one of the boxes. There are no chairs yet, so I look around, making sure I’m not about to flash anyone, then hike up my skirt and lift myself onto the bar. I wiggle to get my skirt to a decent length before grabbing the box and getting to work on setting up my new laptop.
I STOMP UP the stairs, Zane on my heels. I’m pissed the fuck off. I know I have no right, but that doesn’t matter. Once we clear the landing in the small lounge area, I turn to face my best friend. One look at me and he’s throwing his head back in laughter.
“What the fuck?” I ask angrily. His laughter isn’t helping my mood.
“How long have we known each other?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
He nods. “It’s safe to say we know each other better than we know ourselves, right?”
“What the fuck are you spouting on about?”
“You’re jealous.” He smirks.
“Jealous? What the hell are you talking about?” Shit. He’s on to me. And hell fucking yes, I’m jealous.
“Berklee. You want her.”
“She’s my employee.”
“You want her,” he says again.
“You’re delusional.” I can’t admit it to him. I have to tamp this down, this . . . want that I have for my new employee. My only saving grace is that I never told Zane about the sexy girl at Coffee House. I kept her just for me.