Coat room.
I don’t know what I thought that would entail aside from applying the proper use of hangers and giving out tickets.
Idoknow I’ve worked harder in the last couple of hours than I expected.
The coats are heavy, the ticket book has given me paper cuts left and write…er,right.Though, I have been doing a lot ofwriting, scribbling down the items that were checked in and out on a spreadsheet Clipboard Lady insisted we use.
Seems like overkill, but what do I know about fancy charity events?
“You should go eat.”
I blink, the words that had gone blurry on the paper in front of me coming into sharp focus. “What?” I ask of my co-coat checker in crime.
“Dissociate much?” Dale asks.
I lean back against the counter as he smiles, his eyes dragging down my body and back up in a way that so totally does nothing for me.
Not like the press of Brooks’s chest against my back had just a few nights ago.
Not like Brooks giving me the same look would have done years?—
I shove that down. “Sorry,” I say, mirroring his smile. “Yeah, I was zoning out.”
He leans against the counter beside me. “The party’s going to start winding down soon, which means we’re going to get slammed with people and then if you’re sticking around for cleanup—” He pauses and I nod.
Hopefully, I’ll be long gone by then.
But it pays to be flexible.
“We’ll be busy for a while yet,” he says. “Though, maybe after we’re done for the night, we can go out for a drink?”
I barely hold back my shudder.
“No?”
Damn. I don’t like the hard edge to his tone, the way he’s shifting closer, so his arm brushes against mine.
“How about I call it a maybe?” I smile and force myself to stay still, something in his eyes, his demeanor, that sharp edge of his words, telling me to tread carefully. “I’m just coming off working a couple of doubles. But,” I add when his eyes narrow, “if not tonight then tomorrow?”
He studies me closely. “Give me your number.”
A demand.
Yeah, this one is full of red flags left and right.
But it’s a demand I can give in to—mostly because the burner phone in my pocket is getting dumped tonight.
I recite the numbers, watch as he plugs them in…and then hits the button to make a call.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
He grins, friendly ally vibes reactivated now that he’s gotten what he wants.
Yup.
So,somany red flags.
“I’m going to take your advice and grab something to eat,” I tell him. “Want me to bring you back something?”
