My eyes widen. Holy shit, that’s right. Suddenly I remember what got us into this mess…
I turn around at the sound of the stool shifting and stop in my tracks. What the fuck?
I squint. Okay, I’m not that old, but my eyes must be deceiving me.
“Payden?” I raise a brow. “Are you lost?”
She dumps her bag onto the empty seat next to her and sighs. “Nope. Pretty sure I knew what I was doing when I walked through the door.”
I give her a pointed look. “You sure about that?”
Her eyes graze down to my chest, then flick back up. Did she… Did she just check me out?
“I wanted a quiet place to think.” She looks around the almost deserted bar. It is a Wednesday night, after all. “And voila.”
Never in the time I’ve worked here has Payden come into my bar. Some of the ol’ ladies do from time to time, but not very often. This isn’t really their scene.
“Had a hard day?”
She sits up straighter. “I did, as a matter of fact, and my office is right down the street. This was the closest watering hole.”
I try not to smirk. She is fucking stunning. Still in her work attire, which consists of a pencil skirt, a blouse, pantyhose, and sky-high heels. She’s removing her blazer as she shoots me a look. “Are you closed for business?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Does it look like it?”
She takes in a long, exasperated breath, then says, “I’ll have a martini, make it a double.”
I keep staring at her. “Dirty, or?”
She purses her lips as I try not to laugh. “Surprise me, hotshot.”
I put on a thoughtful face as she sighs loudly. “Court case go bad or somethin’?”
“Something like that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She gives me a pointed look that’s more like a glare. “Does it look like it?”
I wave my hands in a surrendering gesture. “Just the booze then, coming right up.” I turn, reaching for the top shelf.
A woman like Payden Benedict only drinks the good stuff. She’s high-class, snooty, too good for the likes of me, and sexy as fuck. We’re worlds apart, but that wouldn’t stop me from shooting my shot.
Not that I have a snowball's chance in hell, but the thought humors me nonetheless.
I decide I’ll make it dirty. Luckily for her, I have olives. Usually this bar doesn’t cater to high-class women like Payden, but I have some gin and vodka on reserve for the odd occasion women come in and want a cocktail.
“So, do you ever get a night off?”
“Why?” I holler back over my shoulder. “You interested?”
I don’t need to turn all the way around to know she’s probably giving me devil eyes. “Hilarious. I meant, you’re always here.”
“You should talk, you’re well known to be a workaholic.” I don’t like talking about myself, so I’m good at deflecting. Payden, however, seems to have the same MO.
“How’s next door going?”
“Same old shit. Waiting on contractors.”
