“Tonight?” Matty’s eyes widened slightly.
Sloan nodded slowly.
“Around ten thirty. It’s only fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes.” Sloan’s mouth curved. “That is enough time to make very poor decisions.”
She leaned in, meeting an eager mouth with her own.
“You turn me on when you kiss me like that,” Matty admitted.
“I always thought that was kind of the point with kissing,” Sloan teased.
“It is,” Matty said, “but now I have to spend all night thinking about the next one.”
Sloan winked. “Good. Stay that way.”
“Oh really? Well, in that case…” Matty kissed her. “You can wait till tomorrow to see me again.”
Sloan’s eyes lit up. “Well played.”
Chapter thirty-eight
Matty pushed open the door to Art’s back entrance and stepped inside. She came face to face with a tall, tanned woman.
“Hey.” She smiled, blue eyes bright, shorter blonde hair falling forward as she held out her hand. “You must be Matty,” she said, a slight twang to her accent—British, but with something else running through it. “I’m Cam. Cam Thomas.”
“Oh, you’re the owner.” Matty glanced at the designer jeans and shirt, then at the skates still on her own feet. “Hi.”
Cam laughed. “Yep, that’s me. But I prefer ‘colleague’.”
“Right.” Matty smiled back. “So, I just need to get changed and into—”
“I’ll get out of your way.” Cam stepped aside. “I’ll be in the bar. I’m hoping you can show me how things really work around here.”
“Sure. I’d be happy to.” Matty nodded and watched her go.
It took less than five minutes to tug her skates off, slip her Vans on, and change into the Art uniform T-shirt she was supposed to wear.
When she walked into the bar, the rest of the staff were already gathered around a table, drinks in hand or set in front of them, listening while Cam Thomas talked. As heads turned towards Matty, Cam paused, then grinned.
“Matty—grab a drink and come and join us. I was just talking everyone through what’s changing.”
“Okay.” Mattystepped behind the bar and found a glass, filling it with lemonade and a couple of cubes of ice. The room was quiet but for the music playing low in the background and the clink of ice as she set the glass down.
Greta shifted up and made space for Matty to squeeze in. Matty gave her a look—the one that asked, ‘What’s happening?’’ and Greta shrugged.
“So, sorry again for dragging you all in at short notice,” Cam said, starting again. “A bit of background—I grew up around here—Woodington, Bath Street. So this place has always been personal to me. Even when I was living in California, I came back and opened this as my second bar in the UK.”
So that was the twang,Matty thought.
“I met my wife there. We built a life there, had the kids, and now…” Cam’s smile tightened for a moment. “Now things are different, and we’ve decided to come back to the UK. Which means I’ll be more hands-on here at Art.”
No one spoke. Cam didn’t seem to mind.
“The day-to-day running of the place will still be in the hands of my management team, but I’ll be joining the shift pattern and working a few nights a week. I’ll be getting involved in creating events that’ll hopefully bring in more customers.” She glanced around the table. “And if anyone’s got ideas, I want to hear them. Don’t be shy about saying what you think.” She paused. “Any questions?”
Nobody said anything.
