16
Tiff
At the end of the night, the staff split into two groups: those who left quickly and those who didn’t.
As a self-proclaimed overachiever, I was in the latter category.I wasn’t surprised that Sam fell into it, too, although it had annoyed me when he first started.
Now?
Now, I was almost glad for the company.
After Devon had finished cleaning up, I sent him home with a wave until it was only Sam and I loitering in the bar.
I busied myself reviewing the next week’s schedule while I spied Sam studying a selection of paperwork in one of the booths.It was odd to see him there.He usually preferred to be in his office or working behind the bar.
Something I’d noticed he’d spent less time doing lately, and I remembered how he’d almost dropped a box the other night.Normally, I would have made a crack about not having what it took to do what he bossed us around to do, but I’ve worked with him for multiple shifts now, and he’d never shown any weakness before.
I hated to admit it (and you’d have to torture me before I told him), but I could at least acknowledge that he was an objectively handsome man.Lean, fit, good-looking.He wasn’t built like Jackson, but he clearly looked after himself.
Considering his slender build, I’d been surprised by the strength in his body and even more by the muscular thighs and ass (one thing I’d always loved on a person).He’d surprised me today by forfeiting his usual black dress pants in favor of a slim cut jean.
And wow, that ass.
That tight, tight ass.
Dammit, that was not something I should be noticing about my boss.
I was already spending too much energy ignoring the way his smug smile accentuated the cupid's bow of his lips or the way his glasses softened the intensity of his eyes.I did not need to add this to the list of things I needed to ignore about him.
“Can I get you anything?”I asked from behind the bar.
His head turned towards me, but his eyes stayed glued to whatever he was reading.It was not adorable.“Hmm?”
Goddammit (it wasnotadorable).“Do you want a drink or anything?”
Finally, he looked at me.“Oh.No, I was about to make myself a coffee.”
I nodded.When ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t made a move, I made him a cup (it was the least I could do since he was the reason we even had a machine) and walked it over to him.
“So,” I said as I took a seat across from him in the booth, a packet of chips in hand.It was the first meal I’d eaten in hours, and my stomach was turning on itself.“How are the plans coming?”
At his quizzical look, I added, “for the bar?”
Realization hit, and then he did a double-take at the cup of coffee sitting before him, the corner of his lips curling into a half-smile.“Ah, yes.Well, I’m still having some issues pinpointing a theme.”He gestured to the litany of papers in front of him, which I now realized were samples, vision boards, and news clips of assorted bars.It was like an interior decorator’s wet dream.
“Well, what is it you’re trying to say?”From the little I knew about this sort of thing, there was always an angle.
“I want the bar to be somewhere everyone feels welcome.Somewhere they can come to connect.The way I see it, not everyone can relate with lofty, expensive drinks.”His gaze shifted to mine, worried.“No offense.”
When I smiled, he relaxed and continued.“There’s a disconnect.Yes, they look great.Yes, they taste great.”I preened under the compliments.“I recognize that they have been a big deal for the bar up to now, but I think we can do more than that.Bars like that are ‘somewhere to be seen’, not ‘somewhere to be’.Everyone that comes here should feel welcomed, no matter who they are.”
“Wow,” I said, breathless from the passion he exuded.Who knew that was under his stiff, stubborn exterior?“How do you plan on saying that with furniture?”
He lifted the coffee to his lips, and I tried not to pay too much attention.“That would be the issue.”
“Ah,” I said.“May I?”
“Of course.”I flipped a few of the pages around to face me, skimming over sconce options (eh, maybe) and wallpaper designs (surprisingly chic, actually) and some schematics for replacing the back shelving, when he spoke again.“I meant what I said earlier; I don’t expect you to act any differently towards me this morning just because we had an actual conversation last night.Our first, it would seem.”
