I look up just as the bartender places my drink in front of me.
“Thank you.” I force a smile, reaching for my drink with one hand as I grab my wallet from my bag and put it on the counter.
“Oh, it’s paid for,” he says with a grin. I frown, not understanding why. I hope he isn’t hitting on me… that’s not what I want to deal with tonight. I just wanted to go out for a drink because I’m stressed. Then I think of the guy who held the door for me. That smile was a little… I don’t know, suggestive? Did I give him the wrong impression? God, I can’t even come to a bar without ruining things. “Mr. Caldwell paid for it.”
My eyes snap wide at those words, and my blood runs cold. Darting my gaze around the room, I eventually meet his dark gaze. He’s staring at me from right across the bar, a tumbler with amber-colored liquid in his hand.
Damnit. What is he doing here?
He can’t say he isn’t stalking me, because I’m certain he is.
Why doesn’t that scare me?
I grit my teeth, wanting to bring my drink over there and throw it in his face, but I really don’t want to waste the alcohol, and I could use the drink. I could ask the bartender to make another and I’m sure he would, but what’s the point in that?
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
“You know him or something?” he asks, leaning on the counter.
I take a sip, relishing in the burn that travels down my throat when I swallow.
“Unfortunately,” I mutter.
He chuckles. “By the shocked look on your face, I’m going to guess you didn’t know he owns this place.”
“What? Heownsthis place?”
“The man owns half the city,” he says as if I should know better.
I take another mouthful, wishing I'd stayed in front of my dad’s house in my car. I busy myself with my phone, not caring that the battery will die. I need to make myself look busy, and as soon as I finish this drink, I need to get the hell out of here. Can’t even enjoy a drink without being hassled.
I don’t understand what he wants from me and why he’s offering me such ludicrous benefits for a job a toddler could do. He wants a PA? What kind of PA gets paid so much money and with so many perks? It has to be something else. Nothing about that makes sense. Sure, he has the money, butwhy? He can’t feelbad for me, can he? I mean, I guess he could, but that isn’t the Elliot Caldwell Harrison described to me. As far as I know, he’s as cold as ice. Though, that isn’t what I got from him when I was at his house. In fact, it was kind of the opposite…
Especially when I—you know. He looked almost desperate. Nothing about him said he was heartless and cold, the way Harrison made it seem.
Parent/child relationships do tend to be strange, and there are always three sides to a story. Some people think my father is a wonderful man who is just hurting from losing his wife. I believe that to some extent, but you can grieve without being cruel. Maybe it’s the same for Harrison and his father.
I sneak a glance across the bar, relieved when I see Mr. Caldwell frowning at his phone. Maybe it’s work. Maybe he has to leave. If he does, I’ll stay for another drink.
I push the glass away after I’ve taken the last sip. I’m feeling the effects of the alcohol, and smile to myself as I watch how angry Elliot Caldwell looks. I shouldn’t be happy that he’s upset, but something about him being annoyed has me almost giddy. Not in a cruel way, but in ahaha, that’s what you get for stalking mekind of way.
“Another?” the bartender asks, grabbing my empty glass.
“Yes, please. But I’ll pay for it this time.”
So much for only staying if he leaves…
The bartender smirks. “He said you’d say something like that and to tell you no.”
I raise a brow, glancing past him to look at Elliot, who’s still glaring at his phone.
“Tell him I said to go fuck himself.”
I’m not sure where that came from, obviously the vodka talking, but I kind of like it. I never stick up for myself like this, so hey, I’m going for it. I’ve got nothing to lose with this man, and if anyone can take it, it’s him. I’m sure he hears worse daily.
“You sure about that?” the bartender asks with a raised brow.
“Absolutely.”
