"So he just left the office looking upset then?" Regan listened quietly all the way to that part where she raised the question like it was the highlight, and maybe it was.
"Yeah, but…"
The bell over the bar's door chimed as it opened, and I looked up over Regan's shoulder to see none other than Clayton Locke stalking through.
He had a scowl on his face, which I was pretty sure was a normal thing for him now that I'd gotten to know him better.
I muttered a curse word under my breath as I slowly pushed off the stool and retreated.
"What?" Regan asked, and she turned over her shoulder to see Clayton stomping toward us. "Oh," she said flatly. Then she stood and watched me take my post behind the bar. "I'm gonna go sit over there. That guy's a creep."
"Yeah, yeah, deserter," I grumbled, taking her dirty glass. "At least raise your hand to order a drink in a few minutes so I can get away from him!" I hissed as she started walking away, and she wiggled her fingers over her shoulder.
Clayton strutted right up and took the seat Regan just left while I turned my back so I didn't have to look at him and started washing the dirty glass.
He'd been texting me all day, asking how my little showdown with Asher had gone following the board meeting.
I couldn't very well tell him what really happened because I didn't really try to make Asher work for it—he made a move, and I was putty in his hands.
But now I had to answer for my behavior ignoring a man who'd given me half a million dollars to do a job for him.
My heart was pounding, and my hands shook a little.
I wasn't stupid.
If Clayton wanted to, he could take that recording of my agreeing to bring Asher down and play it for any number of people.
The bank records would show the huge deposit, and I'd be made a laughingstock. Not a good look for a professional woman who wants a serious career.
"You've been ignoring me, Veda."
When I turned around, glass in hand drying it, I saw that Clayton had loosened his tie.
It was the first time I’d seen him stone-cold sober, or at least not drunk.
He wasn't a bad-looking man.
He just didn't get the looks of the family.
"Penny kept me so busy all afternoon with things to do once Asher left the office." I twisted the towel deep in the glass and avoided eye contact with him while guilt swallowed me whole. My cheeks had to have been bright red. They were flaming.
"You mean, Mr. Locke?" he asked with both eyebrows raised in annoyance.
"I mean, Asher." Annoyance went both ways, though I wasn't stupid enough to really let loose on this turd. "There are two of you. I can't keep calling you both Mr. Locke. You're Clayton. He's Asher."
He grunted and nodded at the glass shelves over my shoulder, behind which was a mirror that reflected everything in the bar, making it easier for me to notice when someone wanted a drink while washing dishes.
Unfortunately, as I took the moment to glance at Regan hoping her hand would be up, I saw nothing but blue skies.
No one wanted my attention except the one person I wanted to avoid.
"Give me a shot… Johnny Walker Blue."
I almost groaned audibly.
I knew why men ordered that particular whiskey, and it wasn't because it was so amazing.
Besides, the price was ridiculous.
