Obviously, I was imagining things. This guy was really getting under my skin, and I hated him for it.
“So,” he said, leaning back against the bar. He looked so calm and in control, so relaxed in who he was. There was a confidence that radiated off him, like nothing in the world could ever tear him down. I couldn’t imagine ever having a life like that. “You’re not a bad dancer.”
“Wow, what a compliment.” I took a sip of the drink and fought back the urge to moan. It was the best gin and tonic I’d ever tasted. Sharp yet sweet, with the perfect amount of bitters. It was all I could do not to chug the entire thing and then ask for another.
The right corner of his lips tilted up, dimpling his cheek. I swallowed hard. It was the first time I’d noticed the dimples. They hadn’t been there before, had they? Or was this just the first genuine smile? “Alright, I’ll admit you’re good. Your body seemed to suck up the music, and then pour it all out again. Mesmerizing, really.”
I fought back a smile, hiding it behind another sip of the gin and tonic. “Thanks. So, does that mean I got the job?”
His expression darkened as he raised the glass to his lips. “Unfortunately, no. I meant what I said, Mia. You’re not right for this establishment.”
My hand tightened around the glass as frustration rushed through me. “But you had me audition.”
“Because I was curious about you. You’re a hard one to figure out.” He shrugged. “I told you that before you came in. You’re a very good dancer, but it changes nothing. We’re looking for someone you’re not.”
I lowered the glass to the bar top and scowled. “I can’t believe you had me come in here and waste my time. If I’d known I had no shot at this, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
He raised a brow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Very,” I shot back. With a frustrated growl, I twisted on my heels and stormed toward the door. Just as I reached it, I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Asmodeus still stood by the bar, a bemused look on his face. “Here’s a tip. You might have a fancy bar and famous friends, but being a rude asshole will only get you so far in life. Keep this up, and one day your pretty castle will crumble down on top of your head. Goodbye, Asmodeus. I hope I never see your smug face again.”
3
By the time I reached Brooklyn, I still hadn’t calmed down. Where did Asmodeus get the idea he could treat people like that? And what was he trying to imply about me? That I wasn’t good enough for his stupid, overpriced club? To hell with that.
Serena opened the door before I could knock. Her mussed hair and lazy smile told me everything I needed to know. When she caught the look on my face, she straightened. “Everything okay? Did something happen?”
“I’m fine.” I trudged into the apartment and kicked off my boots. “Is Noah still here?”
“Hi.” Noah stood from the couch and dusted some nonexistent crumbs off his jeans. “I was just leaving.”
Noah had come into Serena’s life a year ago. He worked at one of the local artisan coffee shops and wrote novels in his spare time. His wire-rimmed glasses, along with his dusty blonde hair, made him look smart but also adorable. The two of them had somehow found each other in a city full of millions. I’d never seen Serena happier, and I’d known her my entire life.
“Honestly, you don’t need to leave on my account,” I said to him. “If you’re still hanging out, I can go up to the roof. The tenant on the top floor hasn’t password-protected her wifi, so I can watch some Netflix and stuff my face with ice cream for a few hours.”
“Uh oh, not the ice cream,” Serena said with a groan. “What happened to our pact?”
Noah raised a questioning brow, so Serena explained. “Mia can’t do anything in moderation but especially not ice cream. She eats a spoonful, and then the entire carton is gone within ten minutes. And then her stomach aches for days. A week ago, she vowed to go cold turkey.” She eyed me warily. “So, something must have happened.”
“I found another job lead,” I said tensely. “An audition to dance at a club. The owner turned me away because I don’t look the part. That combined with the earlier rejection from that receptionist job has sucked the life out of my day.”
“Wait,” Serena said, folding her arms over her wrinkled t-shirt. “A club? Where?”
“All the way in Manhattan,” I said with a sigh. “Hell’s Kitchen.”
“No wonder you were gone for so long.” A moment passed before she spoke again. “A dancer at a club? Is that really the kind of job you want?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way. I didn’t get it.”
“The cafe is hiring,” Noah interjected. “A girl quit last week, and business is booming. We need another barista as soon as possible. I could hook you up with an interview if you’d like.”
I straightened, ice cream craving forgotten. Working in a cafe wasn’t my first choice, but I didn’t have the luxury of choosing. My business degree sat on a shelf, gathering dust, and my ballet shoes were tucked in the back corner of my closet. I didn’t know much about coffee, but I could learn.
“You know what? That would be great. Thanks for offering to help.”
He flashed me a smile as he gathered his things. “Anything for Serena’s roommate. We’ll get you back on your feet.”
I read between the lines. He might be doing this to help me out, but there was a bonus for him involved. The sooner I got a job, the sooner I’d move out…but I didn’t know how I’d afford rent on barista wages. At least not in Clinton Hill.
