“I can’t make it,” she told him a little more forcefully, sending Julian a warning glance not to argue with her.
Looking directly at him was a mistake. The man was hot enough to melt glaciers in Greenland. It was no wonder he was in high demand as an actor. Not only was he gorgeous, with his artfully messy blond hair and sky-blue eyes framed with lashes any woman would kill for, but he also had a body so toned and fit that Kristin was fairly certain she could bounce a quarter pretty damn far off almost any muscle mass in his entire body.
No man should look quite as sinfully perfect as Julian Sinclair. The really unfair part was that he was as talented as he was handsome. With one Academy Award under his belt, and a second movie already a blockbuster hit, Julian was probably one of the most recognized A-listers in Hollywood. In addition, he was also filthy rich, a member of the elite Sinclair family.
Unfortunately, he was also a major prick. Cocky. Bossy. Arrogant. Way too used to getting his own way.
Maybe she had seen a little more insightful side of Julian occasionally during their last few encounters, but overall, he was still an antagonistic jerk.
“Your bag is in the car, and my jet is waiting. Mara went and packed a bag for you with your mother’s help. Apparently, your parents are more than willing to have somebody fill in for you. They want you to go. They’re happy you’re getting away for a weekend.”
My parents know I passed up the opportunity to go to Vegas? Bastard! There’s no way Mara would have told Mom and Dad without encouragement from Julian.
Kristin’s parents were her weakness, and she knew they’d be disappointed if she turned down a trip to Vegas because she was needed to tend the bar. If she’d told her dad that she wanted to go, he would have closed the bar for a few days if necessary. But she hadn’t wanted to do that. Her parents couldn’t afford to lose the weekend revenues.
She wasn’t sure why she was arguing with him. This all had to be some kind of elaborate joke. Julian liked to screw with her for some reason. He seemed to get his kicks from doing it.
He’s not serious.
“I can’t,” she told him, turning her head to watch as patrons started moving toward the bar, ordering drinks just to admire the skillful new bartender. “Even if the bar is covered, I need to do lunch and dinner this weekend.”
Julian put his arm around a petite blonde next to him and swaggered over to Kristin’s side. “This is Sandie Retzlaff.” He nodded to the bartender. “That’s her husband, Carl. Sandie can cook, and Carl, as you can see, can handle the bar just fine. He’s used to working a busy place. And he loves to show off his skills.”
“I’ll just go check into the kitchen,” Sandie told Julian as she smiled at him and wandered through the door to the food-prep area.
Kristin grabbed the sleeve of Julian’s light-blue sweater. “You’re joking, right? Sandie and Carl Retzlaff own Retzlaff’s Restaurant in California. That’s not . . . them, right?” She nodded her head toward the bartender.
“Yep. That’s the same dynamic duo. Now that Carl has taught all of his skills to his bartenders, he was getting bored. He wanted a challenge.”
“Sandie Retzlaff is a master chef and one hell of a businesswoman.” Kristin had heard of Retzlaff’s. Most people in the bar or restaurant business knew them at least by reputation. The elegant restaurant was famous throughout the nation for their amazing food and showman bartenders who could toss out some elaborate cocktails.
“Carl’s actually damn talented, too. He’s won mixology competitions all over the country,” Julian added amiably. “Now let’s get going. Vegas awaits, and I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink and some food.”
“My bartender is wearing flip-flops,” she answered drily. “Julian, I can’t leave Shamrock’s and just take off for Vegas.”
Leaving on a whim wasn’t possible for her. Maybe Julian could do it, but she wasn’t a Sinclair, and her life just didn’t function that way.
Her waking hours were filled with work.
And she always had responsibilities.
“Tessa’s getting married. You aren’t just leaving, and it isn’t exactly going to affect your parents’ business. I persuaded the best two professionals in the country to run Shamrock’s while you’re gone. I told you once that I owed you for doing me a favor. You weren’t willing to collect. So take advantage of me now.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Kristin could see more and more people swarming around the bar to watch Carl. Since when had bartending become a spectator sport? She could hear Carl talking about his years in the Marine Corps while he was doing some pretty precarious tosses with liquor bottles before he garnished several drinks with a flourish.
“I. Can’t. Leave.” Her voice was tight and irritated. Julian’s ruse had gone on long enough.