“Get off my bar and meet me in my office,” Killian snapped. “Last call,” he shouted on his way back.
She closed her eyes briefly. This was so not good. Her ears were still ringing from the last time he chewed her out for dancing on the bar. It was unfair, really. It was all in good fun, and the patrons loved it. Killian could be such a hardass.
When she opened her eyes, Theo was studying her. His gaze was cool again, enough so that she shivered.
She shrugged off the luxurious silk jacket that probably cost more than her rent.
“Keep it,” he said in that ridiculous, deep voice of his. Since when were small-town mayors allowed to talk like that? All husky and intimate. A delicate shiver skimmed over her, which, of course, made her even mouthier. “You’re not decent.”
She leaned in closer until her lips brushed his ear and murmured, “The fun ones never are.”
She hopped off the bar and didn’t look back.
Amber stoodin the doorway of Killian's office. The faint scent of cigars lingered, reminding her of the many heart-to-hearts they’d had in this room. She braced herself, knowing she’d pushed Killian’s limits more tonight than at any other time. “Look, I know you said?—”
“Close the door, Amber,” Killian said quietly. He had never looked at her like that. She swallowed hard.
“Do you want to tell me why you're dancing on my bar again?”
She tried to deflect with her usual charm. “Well, you see, we were down in sales coming into the last hour, so it was actually a smart business decision. You know you make twice as much later on in sales when we do karaoke. I was really looking out for your bottom line.”
“Stop.” Killian ran his hands through his hair, looking frustrated. “Don’t pile that bullshit on me. This isn’t about sales. Do you want to get us closed down? Would you like to jeopardize my liquor license? For fuck’s sake, the fire marshal was leaving when I walked in. You know he wouldn't hesitate to slap a fine on me or worse. Is that what you want?
“It’s not that serious,” she started, but Killian cut heroff.
“What you don't understand is that life really is that serious.”
Ouch.That one hurt. She’d heard that her entire life, most especially from her mother: to get serious. As the tapping of Killian’s pencil lent an uncharacteristically tense air to the room, remorse filled her.
The pub was a special place for her. It had been her soft landing when she needed a place to come back to. No matter which job or idea didn’t work out the way she thought it would, Killian always had a spot for her behind the bar. He was more than a boss or her friend; he was the mentor she’d never asked for but desperately needed.
“Okay,” she said meekly. “I’m sorry.”
Killian sighed, his expression softening. “I know you're trying to find your way, Amber, but I can't keep overlooking these things. This place, these people, they rely on us.”
The room felt smaller, the weight of his words pressing down on her. “You’re right. I didn’t think about the others,” she admitted, the reality of her actions hitting her. “It won’t happen again.” The resignation on his face alarmed her.
“It won’t happen again because I’m letting you go.”
“What? You can’t mean that.” She stared at him in disbelief. “I need this job. You don't understand. I have to pay—” she stopped abruptly. No way was she going to get into her money troubles with her boss, friend or not. Those were locked up tight and she planned to keep them that way.
She tried one more time with her best smile. “Killian, please. I'm begging you. You know me. I’m a hard worker and I always show up. Please give me another chance.”
“I'm sorry, love.” He shook his head. “I need you to understand that this is my livelihood. There are people who depend on me, and if this place is closed down, it affects more than just youhaving fun.”
“But...what will I do?” She flinched even as she said it, furious it had come out at all, but the reality of the situation was making her dizzy.
Working at the pub was the one constant in her life. All the dreams she’d had over the years had slipped through her fingers. Even college hadn’t worked out like she wanted it to. She had quit early, once more disappointing her family of smart, successful women and their expectations of her.
All her life it had felt like she was in limbo while the world moved forward. Sure, she had her body, which she used skillfully. She wasn’t ashamed of using what she had because she knew she was smart too. She had charm; she loved to make people laugh, and she had street smarts. Maybe not the kind of smarts that showed up on a school transcript, but she wasn’t without skills.
Suddenly, her list felt horrifyingly inadequate, and she wondered how much longer she could keep up the pretense of keeping it all together.
Working behind the bar was the one familiar anchor in the chaos that was her life. It was all too much in that moment and, to her horror, tears welled in her eyes. She blinked furiously to make them go away. She never cried. Never. She wouldn’t start now.
Killian came to the front of his desk. Dimly, she felt him reach for her hands. His blue eyes, usually filled with teasing good humor, were somber. “Start by thinking about what you want. You have so much potential. You're smart. You're a hard worker. Take some time to figure that out. If you need any help, financial or otherwise, you know I’m here,” he added gruffly.
It was the concern in his voice that finally shook her out of her stupor.
