A small voice in the recesses of Cal’s mind reminded him of the piece of paper in the top drawer of his desk which could solve his problem: a piece of paper he purposefully hadn’t thrown away but was ignoring for a reason.
But she was too beautiful. A woman that attractive knew it and played on it. He remembered the way she’d flirted as she came into the bar, wanting something and using her feminine wiles to try and get it. He wouldn’t be falling for that nonsense anymore.
She did say she was an experienced bartender, though. And he needed one of those.
After a near hour of driving and deliberation, Cal reached his office and pulled open his desk drawer to retrieve Bea’s details. But the note was nowhere to be seen. A quick rummage didn’t bring it to the fore either. He was sure he’d put it there but out of sight – to forget Bea yet reach her if needed.
But then he remembered something. The evening after Bea had visited Butler’s, he’d enjoyed a drink in his city flat. The whisky had loosened him up and he’d gone online to see the latest on Elisabetta and the baby. His infuriation at her continuing game of cat and mouse had led him to swear that he was done with women, so to prove it to himself, he’d gone downstairs, unlocked the bar and, to avoid temptation, thrown the paper out.
What a numpty.
He would just need to find her. Get in touch to ask if she could cover a few shifts in the bar.
‘Aye, that’s all well and good,’ Cal said out loud. ‘But how are you going to get in touch when you don’t have her number, eh? Like I said, you’re a numpty.’
Chapter 11
Bea
Bea was so inspired by Cal that the short story she’d begun – in which an American writer meets a Scottish barman and they end up in hot and steamy circumstances – was flowing onto her keyboard. Her regular writing residence was the coffee shop in which she’d found herself on her first day in Edinburgh, and where good things happened. After all, this was the place she’d bumped into her delectable muse, although in the story she had loosely changed his name to Hal Hunter to protect his identity. The plan was to publish the story to her website as an apology to her fans for not being around during her vacation, and to give them a taste of the novel to come.
Craving another coffee, Bea turned to the counter to see what the queue was like. And that’s when her heart shot into her throat. Standing right next to her was Cal Butler, his clear green eyes piercing her own.
‘Morning,’ he said, in his low Scottish burr that sent a river of warmth like whisky straight through Bea.
‘Hey! Good morning!’ Bea could barely mask the delight she felt, particularly as she was thinking about Calso much that he had almost become a fantasy figure in her mind. ‘I wasn’t sure we would ever meet again. Would you, um … like a coffee? A seat?’ Bea then inwardly cursed herself for being giddily over the top in the face of his reserved coolness.
‘I’m not here for coffee.’ Cal said flatly.
That’s a great line, thought Bea, imagining her protagonist saying it before sweeping up the heroine and taking her to bed. She gazed at Cal and wondered if he could read her thoughts. Then she remembered the story on her laptop and pulled the lid down gently in case he should spot some incriminating evidence.
‘I’m here to see if you might still be available to come and work for me.’ Cal shuffled a little. ‘I’m having a few staffing problems. It’s the busiest time of the year, and I could do with someone experienced.’
Oh wow!This was unexpected yet amazing. Bea wanted to jump up and whoop with delight. She would get to work with Cal Butler after all. It would make for some great writing; some wonderful experiences; some amazing… Okay, so she might be jumping the gun a little to expect that she would sleep with him, but how was a girl meant to not imagine that? He was so utterly…
‘Well?’ Cal was staring at Bea expectantly. ‘Are you available?’
Bea snapped out of her daze.
‘Um, yes,’ she said. ‘I am. I mean, I was planning to spend the evening writing and taking a nice bubble bath, but I can do those things tomorrow night.’
‘Right, okay.’ Cal did that shuffling thing again. Had the image of her in a bubble bath crept into his mind? Bea hoped so. She’d love to share a big tub of suds with this guy.
‘Would you be able to come in aroundfive so I can show you the ropes before things get busy around seven?’ Once more, Cal had pulled Bea out of her little fantasy. ‘And to do some paperwork. Bring your passport and other ID.’
‘Can do.’ Bea tried her best to be a little more professional. ‘Is there anything in particular I should wear?’
Cal glanced over Bea’s skinny black jeans, pastel-lemon blouse and black sneakers combo. ‘What you’re wearing now is fine. I’ll give you a company shirt to wear though.’
A hot pulse thumped through Bea as Cal’s eyes hit her chest. He wasn’t inspecting her breasts. She’d had enough sleazy men ogling her to know when that was the case. But, for a moment, his vision was right there and it made her flutter with excitement at the thought of his gaze feasting on what was beneath her clothing. Marvellous things really did happen in this coffee shop.
Chapter 12
Cal
For the rest of the day, Cal did paperwork, dealt with suppliers and helped behind the bar during the lunchtime rush. By the time 5 p.m. rolled around, he genuinely hadn’t had a moment to stop and think about anything: not his father, not the baby and not the beautiful, voluptuous redhead who was coming to work bar that evening. So when he looked up to see Bea standing in the doorway of his office, he did a double take, then inwardly cursed himself for behaving like some ridiculous cartoon character.Try to be professional, Butler.
‘I’ll need to take copies of your paperwork,’ Cal told Bea as she took a seat on the other side of his desk. ‘And then I’ll show you around.’
