“You about done over here?” Marcus asks, appearing out of nowhere next to me. “We’re slammed, Georgie. Now isn’t the time to take an extra-long break.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Rivers here just?—”
“Ordered ten more drinks,” Reed interjects. He pulls out his wallet, and placesanotherBenjamin onto the bar—this one, for Marcus. “A little something for the extra load you’ve been carrying because I’ve monopolized Georgina’s attention.”
Marcus glares at the bill on the bar before returning to me. “You need help making his order?”
“No. They’re all pretty simple drinks.”
“And I’m in no rush,” Reed supplies.
“I’ll work like a bunny,” I say. “Sorry I’ve been MIA.”
“Here’s another hundred for you, man,” Reed says, placing another bill next to the first. “I didn’t think about how me monopolizing Georgina was impacting your night. Hopefully, this will make up for it.”
Marcus mutters something under his breath. But, ultimately, he scoops up the cash and shuffles away, looking thoroughly annoyed as he goes.
“Oh, God. Itkilledhim to take that money from you,” I say, laughing.
Reed resumes his bar stool. “And yet, he took it. Proving, once again, the accuracy of one of my favorite mantras:‘Everybody’s got a price. To get what you want from someone, you just have to figure out what their price is, and bribe the shit out of them with it.’”
I scowl. “That’s one of your favorite mantras? Jeez, Reed. That’s dark.”
“I’m wildly successful in a cut-throat industry. You expect my favorite mantras to be about rainbows and unicorns and singing ‘Kumbaya’?”
I squint at him. Is it weird I’m not sure I like him, but I’m hella certain I want to fuck the living hell out of him? “Do you actually want another ten drinks, or was that just a ruse to get Marcus out of my hair?”
“Heck yeah, I want ten drinks. Let’s give my buddies a magical mystery tour of beverages to choose from.”
“You’ve got buddies here? This whole time I thought you were alone.”
He turns around and directs my attention to two guys at the pool table: a hot male-model type who’s cut of the same cloth as Reed, and a nerdy-hipster guy who looks like he could be his hot buddy’s modeling agent. Reed returns to me, smiling. “Let’s make my buddies ten of the most complicated, time-consuming assortment of drinks you can muster.” He places three hundreds in front of me. “Your tip, on top of whatever the ten drinks cost,ifit takes you at least twenty minutes to complete my order.”
Whoa. That’s quite a tip on top of what Reed’s already paid me tonight. Thanks to him, I’m already having the best night of tips of my life, by far. And I’m grateful for it, of course, given the medical bills stacked on my father’s kitchen counter. But I’m also wary. Does Reed think he’s findingmy“price” with these tips—and bribing me with it? If so, he’s dead wrong about that. If I decide to go home with him tonight, or any night, it won’t have anything to do with his financial generosity.
I get to work on filling Reed’s ten-drink order,slowly,while he settles onto his bar stool and chats me up. About ten minutes in, when I slide the fifth drink of his order across the bar, Reed finally makes his move. “Hey, do you think you could get out of here a couple hours early?” he asks. “I’d really like to spend some time alone with you tonight, but I’m flying to New York first-thingtomorrow, and I’ll be gone for a week. The thought of waiting that long to get you alone is torturing me.”
Holy shit. My mind is racing and my heart pounding. I want to say yes, despite all the “good girl” reasons I probably shouldn’t. And not simply for the chance to give him Alessandra’s music in private, but because... holy hell, I want to have sex with this sexy, arrogant man! But, unfortunately, that’s a moot point because I truly can’t leave my shift early.
“Sorry, I can’t leave early,” I say, pouting. “I wish I could.”
Reed’s face perks up. “Is that true—you genuinely wish you could leave early and come home with me? Or did you say that simply to be polite?”
I bite my lip, realizing I’ve just given up the ghost. “I wasn’t being polite,” I admit. “I’d genuinely love to leave early and go to your house tonight, but I truly can’t. I guess we’ll just have to get together after you get back from New York. It’s too bad, but unavoidable. I won’t get out of here until around two thirty, and it sounds like you have to get to the airport pretty early tomorrow.”
Reed’s jaw muscles pulse. He takes a long gulp of one of the drinks I’ve laid before him and shakes his head.
“What time do you have to leave for the airport?” I ask hopefully, on the off-chance we could make tonight work.
“Five, at the very latest.”
I grimace. “Yeah, tonight definitely won’t work, then. We wouldn’t get to your place till three, and then you’d have to shove me out the door at four thirty. No, thanks. I’m up for a meaningless good time with you tonight, no strings, but, still, that’s way too big a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am for me. At least for our first time.” I slide another drink across the bar and hold my breath, hoping Reed will try to convince me I’m wrong. But, no, Reed remains unusually quiet, looking deep in thought.
“Are you going to New York for business or pleasure?” I ask, simply to break the awkward silence.
He takes a sip of his drink. “Both.”
I force myself not to frown at that answer.Both.Surely, the personal “pleasure” part of Reed’s trip will involve him hooking up with a gorgeous woman. Or two or three. Probably some glamorous model or actress.Shit. It’s suddenly dawning on me: if I don’t go home with Reedtonight, due to time constraints, and he then flies off to New York to party with rock stars and fuck supermodels this entire week, he’s going to forget I ever existed. And where will that leave my lady-boner? With blue balls, that’s what.
