When I head to my office, I don’t look into either of theirs, just walk right past and settle in behind my new desk. Taking a deep breath, I take a minute to let it all sink in. This is mine, all mine. This club was my vision and slowly, day by day, I see it come to life. A sense of accomplishment washes over me, and every sacrifice I’ve made in the last year is worth this feeling hands-down.
Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes and try not to think about the auburn-haired beauty just on the other side of the wall. Never have I felt this kind of burning attraction. Hell, I’m not even sure “attraction” is the right word; it’s more like a deep-seated need that I have for her. It’s fucking crazy since I barely know her, but there’s just something about her that turns me inside out. From the first day at Coffee House until now, it’s only grown stronger.
“Knock knock,” her sexy-as-fuck voice says from the doorway. “I have some résumés for you to look at.”
I don’t need to look at them; I’ve seen her in action and I trust her already. However, I do want to be around her. All the damn time I want to be around her. “Come on in,” I say, moving to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk.
“Servers, bartenders, and security. I talked to Zane and he said for me to move forward with the security applicants as long as you were okay with it.”
“Sit,” I say, motioning toward the chair beside me. She does as she’s told and crosses her legs. Her skirt rides up, causing my cock to stand up and take notice. I shift a little to hide my growing problem. “Let’s see.” I hold my hand out for her to give me the résumés. When she does, I place mine over hers and rub my thumb across the back of her hand. Electric scorching heat races through me. From her intake of breath, she feels it too.
“I, uh . . . I just wanted to make sure you were on board.”
I’m on board, and so is my cock. I leaf through the stack of résumés and then hand them back to her. This time she’s careful not to touch me. “Go with your gut.”
“Okay.”
She stands to leave and I want to demand that she stay. I’m losing my damn mind. Instead I stand with her and walk behind her to the door. She stops and turns around, and suddenly her chest is bumping into mine. I fight back the grin that wants to break free when she braces her hands against my chest so she doesn’t fall and I grab her hips to steady her. I couldn’t have planned this if I tried. “Careful,” I say, staring down at her.
“So-sorry.” She pushes back from my chest but doesn’t get far as I tighten my grip on her hips. I like her here, next to me. “I need to, um. . . .” She looks down at the papers that now cover my office floor. I couldn’t give a fuck where they ended up with her this close to me. She steps back, pushing against my chest once more, and this time I let her go.
I place my hands on the back of my head and try to keep from grabbing her and pulling her back into me. I watch as she gets down on all fours in that tight-ass skirt and starts picking up the papers. Before I can pull my head out of my ass and help her, she’s trying to stand in heels and the skirt that fits her like a second skin.
Reaching down, I offer her my hand. She stares at if for what feels like a fucking eternity before she places her hand in mine and allows me to help her to her feet.
“Thank you.” She gives me a shy smile.
Fuck, I want to know what those lips taste like.
She turns toward the door and I follow, placing my hand on the small of her back. I can’t seem to help myself—not that I’m actually trying at this point. I’m too far gone with this burning need for her.
Basically, I’m fucked.
I force myself to stop walking once we reach the doorway but don’t take my eyes off her until she’s in her office, and I hear the subtle click of the door closing.
I smile to myself. She’s just as affected as I am. Now I just need to decide what I’m going to do about it. Do I continue to fight this pull? Can I fight it working with her every day? How will this affect our working relationship?
I’m so fucked.
THIS WEEK HAS flown by. I completed more interviews and I’m happy to report that Club Titan is now fully staffed. We now have four full-time security—one of whom is also trained behind the bar—six servers with one also trained behind the bar, and six regular bartenders. Club Titan is open Wednesday through Sunday for now. Crew mentioned possibly not being open on Sundays, so we’re going to see how the numbers are before we decide for sure.
I found from my online search that the local supply store gives free next-day delivery. Crew grumbled that he could’ve taken me, but he handed over his American Express and said to get whatever I wanted. I don’t know if I could’ve handled another trip in his truck, although thoughts of being pushed up next to him are not unwelcome. Only this time it’s just the two of us, so there would be no reason for that. A girl can dream. After Monday, all I’ve done is fantasize about my new boss. This week has been full of innocent touches and heated looks, a brushing of my hand here, hand on the small of my back there. It’s driving me crazy. They’re innocent, but every damn time my heart races so loud I’m sure he can hear it.
I hear the door buzzer sound; it should be the company here to install the booths and tables. Crew insisted that the buzzer be installed when he realized I would be here some days on my own. I was given strict instructions that I am not to open the door unless I’m one hundred percent certain it’s a delivery for the club. Even then I’m supposed to keep my phone in my hands at all times. He even went as far as buying me pepper spray, which he insists I carry. I argued with him, but in the end I gave him what he wanted. This time, Zane was actually on his side, taking this head of security title more seriously than I’ve ever seen him. He even had panic buttons installed throughout the club—the bar, each of our offices, even the restroom. I just smile and nod and let them run wild with their ideas. It’s not my money.
Grabbing my phone and the damn pepper spray that Crew conveniently placed on a Club Titan lanyard, I throw it around my neck and make my way downstairs. Through the high-tech security system, I can look at the screen and see who’s outside. We have screens upstairs in a small closet that Zane dubbed the security closet, as well as the security room downstairs. I opted to use that one today since I’m expecting the delivery. Clearly the guy wearing the company logo on his shirt is who he said he is, but Zane and Crew both insisted I never take that at face value. “Can I see your ID please?” I ask as nicely as possible through the speaker. I feel like an idiot, but I’d rather not deal with Crew when/if he ever found out I didn’t ask.
The guy holds up his badge and the name matches the one Crew gave me. “Be right there,” I say into the speaker before rushing toward the door.
“Hi. Right this way.” I open the door and let him in.
“Thanks, we have a team of four today. Should be in and out of your hair in a couple of hours.”