“Same old. We e-mail back and forth for a week or two, I get my hopes up, we meet, and bingo, it’s over.”
“Not one nice guy in eighteen months?” Helga raised an arched brow. “Could you be a little hard on them?”
“I’m picky about who I date. I should be.”
“And what about the men your sister wants you to meet?” She met my eyes. “They are all doctors. Nice young men that she hand-selects, and you know your family would approve. So why has not one been to your liking?”
“I don’t know. You’re the shrink. Why don’t you tell me?”
“Because you don’t want to find one that meets their approval. You want to find one who won’t.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kara called me about the details of Brett’s birthday, and told me where and when to show up—if, of course, I wanted the job. I told her I’d do it to surprise Brett, but that I was ready to step into a management role.
She replied, all in good time.
I was nervous and excited about seeing Brett again, and took special care putting on the bumblebee outfit, fixing my hair, and doing my face. The costume was cute—just revealing enough to be interesting, but innocent enough to be PG rated.
Hearing my knock on the door, a tall, attractive, young woman escorted me in. “Hi, I’m Jenna,” she whispered. “My husband is the host, and he tried to talk me into canceling you and getting a stripper, but I refused. You don’t do that, right?”
“Right. My clothes stay on all night. I don’t lap dance either. I just sing a song, give him a chaste kiss, and be on my bee-sy way.”
“Perfect. That’s exactly what I had in mind.” She led the way, and hesitantly, I followed. I might be in a bee’s costume, but butterflies were flying loops inside my stomach. How was I going to sing in front of him and all these other people? The boy and his family were one thing, but this was totally different. I liked Brett, and I’d do him in a New York minute.
The noise had died down so I knew the guests were expecting me, and waiting. I stepped into the clearing and saw the look of surprise on Brett’s face.
“What’s this?” he grinned.
I twirled around, and fluttered my delicate wings. “I’m here to wish you a wonderful Beesday.” I winked, and flashed him a smile. He looked both amused and delighted to see me. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? Whatever! I wasn’t going to analyze it to death. I was going to pretend he was the only person in the room and I was a gift-wrapped present.
“Susie?” His voice was deep and sexy. “Did Kara put you up to this?”
“Up to what?” I gave him a flirty little look, then realized everybody was waiting for me to do something. Damn. Couldn’t I just play cute? Feeling incredibly self-conscious, I started to sing his Beesday song. My voice cracked, but he just hummed along, smiling at me as if I were really something. My confidence soared and I did a snappy little dance with the last couple of lines, and he clapped vigorously, as did everyone else. I grinned and fluttered, and batted my bee’s eyes. I leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek.
He turned his head, and my mouth grazed his. “Oops. Sorry,” I said, as our eyes met.
“Don’t be. I’ve never met a bee I didn’t like,” he chuckled.
Blushing, I stepped back. Someone was behind me and I nearly stepped on his big feet. The man steadied me, then flipped my stingers. Slowly, I turned around. “No touching, please,” I said nicely, but with enough mustard to show I wasn’t kidding.
He was a big guy, with longish hair, and a bad-ass mustache. He took my stingers in his hands and twirled them with a flick from his fingers. Big mistake. I could smell the beer on his breath. “Come on, little bee. Sting me.”
Trust me, I wanted to. Lifting my chin, I swatted his hand away. “Don’t make me,” my voice held a warning.
“I wouldn’t mind making you,” he replied. Another big mistake. Gigantic. I noticed a girl had jumped on Brett’s lap. It was one of the cocktail waitresses who worked at the Candy Bar. Samantha, if I remembered correctly. She had her arm draped around his neck, and gave his face tiny little kisses. My cheeks grew hot, and Brett spoke up. “Leave her be, Joe.”
“Leave her bee.” Joe laughed, “Beez, beez, beez.” He went to touch my stingers again, and maybe it was because of the girl and Brett, or because Joe was egging me on—I don’t know—but I slugged him.
Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I would do it all over again. Doesn’t matter now. When I dropped my uniform off, Kara told me someone from the party had called. She said she was sorry. She handed me a paycheck and suggested I might be better suited to another line of work.
* * *
The following night I showed up at the Candy Bar, and right away Candy noticed I was not my usual happy self. I told her what happened and she thought it was hysterically funny for some strange reason. What could be funny about getting fired from a Gorilla Gram company?
“How am I going to save for my trip to Italy? I need the money,” I moaned. “Now what am I going to do?” I took a sip of the margarita and licked the salt. “I’m a big, fat loser.”
“You’re not fat,” she said, with a grin.
My lips twitched in a half-smile, and I felt a rush of shame for daring to feel sorry for myself. Hell. My problems were nothing compared to hers. I asked her about Billy, and she said Hank was pretty confident he’d have him home in a day or two.
“You’re hanging in good, Cand. I don’t know how you’re keeping it together.”
“Yeah, well, looks are deceiving. I haven’t slept more than an hour or two at a stretch since the moment he left.” She let out a shaky breath. “It’s easier when I’m here because I’m too busy to focus on him—but that kid is breaking my heart.”
I noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the slight tremble of her hands, and the fact that she needed a manicure badly. Maybe I should treat her to one. She deserves a little spoiling with that brat of a son.
“When he gets back I’m going to beat the crap out of him.”She chuckled. “Knowing you, you probably will.”
She grabbed my margarita glass. “One more?”
“Yes, please, and Candy? I have something to ask.”
“Ask away.”
“I need a job. That art school in Florence is pretty expensive, and I don’t want to take out a bank loan.”
“You want to work here?”
“I’d love to, if you need me.”
Candy touched my hand. “Of course, honey. We’re always flat-out busy on weekends. Hell, most nights. I definitely could use your help.”
“That’s great.” I jumped up to give her a hug. “When can I start?”
“Tomorrow, too soon?” Candy asked.
“Not at all. Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Hey, you’re doing me a favor.” Candy got busy after that, and I was about to leave when Brett walked through the door. Right behind him was Joe, the creep who’d twiddled my stingers and got me fired. I might just stay and have a word with him. After all, I’d lost my job and it was his fault.
The thought that I might get a chance to be around Brett occurred to me too. Besides, what did I have to go home to? Merrybell and reruns of Sex and the City? Well, things were starting to look a lot more interesting right here. What with J.J. up on stage, looking hotter than hell, and Joe, who I wanted to bitch-slap, and in the mix of all this, was Mr. McDreamy, Brett.
This could be fun. It was only nine o’clock, but already the dance floor was jammed with gyrating bodies in close proximity, the bar area was crammed, and people stood three deep. My favorite seat was now occupied so I cruised the bar, slowly making my way to where Brett and Joe stood.
I was stopped occasionally by guys wanting to buy me drinks and feed me their dumb pickup lines.
“Let’s do breakfast tomorrow,” someone said. “Should I call you or nudge you?” I winced, and turned. “Gotta do better than that if you hope to score in this place.” He grinned, and he was
kind of cute. “Hey, I forgot my number. Can I have yours?”
I spotted Brett talking to Samantha, the pretty cocktail waitress, and made a quick decision to chat up this guy. “You seriously need new material.”
He flashed a grin. “The only thing that would look better on you than that dress…is me.”
I rolled my eyes, and giggled. “That is so old and so corny, I feel obliged to stay and help you out.” A few minutes later, I was sipping on a margarita and giving the guy pointers on what worked and what didn’t. I thanked him for the drink, and told him to practice on someone else.
I headed to the ladies’ room but never made it that far. Someone grabbed me by the waist and spun me onto the dance floor. Annoyed, I looked up and saw it was Joe. I would have stepped around him and kept on going if I hadn’t seen J.J. strutting the stage. He was wearing tight low-riding jeans, a black T-shirt straining over his broad chest, and a cowboy hat dipped low over his brow. Good-looking babes were lined up in front of the stage, hoping to catch his eye.
Didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t having any fun. So I smiled at Joe and pretended to like his bumping and grinding. It helped that he was physically appealing and had strong thighs that managed to find their way in between mine. We were dancing directly in front of J.J.’s band, Painted Pony, so I didn’t mind his being all over me.
If it weren’t for the band, I’d want to dig my heel into Joe’s toes and hurt him a little. His hands kept wandering down to my backside, and my knee was itching to go north. Finally, the dance ended. I nodded to him and started to walk off the floor.
He swept his arm around my waist, and whispered in my ear. “Hey, babe, come have a drink.” I could feel his warm breath tickle my ear. “You are one hot dancer. I’d like to see more of those moves.”
I wanted to say bite me, but flashed a smile instead. “Look, I was on my way to the ladies’—twice. I gotta go, man. Order some champagne, and I’ll join you in a minute.” Ha. Ha. Ha. That would teach him a lesson. Maybe he’d be fool enough to really order it and expect me to appear. After I freshened up, I changed my mind. I would join him and Brett. Kara hadn’t said anything about the waitress when I’d asked her about Brett, so maybe it wasn’t serious.
But serious or not, I’d be leaving for Florence in a month, and a little innocent flirtation never hurt. I tossed back my shoulders, and strutted with long confident strides towards the two men. Brett looked up, spotted me, and watched my approach.
When I reached their table, Joe handed me a chilled flute and poured the champagne. “I wasn’t sure if you’d join me but took the chance.”
I felt a little bad for the champagne stunt when bottled water was all I really wanted, but I accepted it graciously. “Of course. How could I resist two such handsome men as you.” I slid my eyes over Brett. “Hi,” I said softly, then leaned in to give him a friend-of-the-family kind of kiss.
“Hi, Susie.” He gave me a lazy grin that had my pulse racing. “You really surprised me the other night. How did Kara ever talk you into working for Gorilla Gram?”
Joe’s head snapped around. “That was you? The bumblebee?”
“Yup. You couldn’t keep your hands off my stingers if I remember correctly.”
“Hey, I’m sorry. I was just having some fun.” He was rubbing the back of his fingers along my arm, which should have been a turn-on, but wasn’t. “I’m Joe Farrah, and obviously you know Brett. You’re Kara’s friend?”
Brett took a slug of his beer, and turned his head to look at his girlfriend/waitress. “Yes, I used to be. Years ago.” I put my half-empty glass of champagne down. “This is delicious, but I shouldn’t have suggested it. I’m getting looped.”
“Oh, come on. Finish it,” Joe coaxed. “I’ll take care of you and see you home.”
“I don’t think so, buddy,” I said with just the right amount of attitude. “I’m out of work because of you.”
He stopped his stroking. “Damn, girl, I didn’t mean to have you fired, but then I didn’t expect you to haul off and punch me, either. I ended up with a bloody nose.”
“Serves you right.” I picked up my flute, and drained it. “I told you to back off.”
Brett chuckled. “Best right hook I’ve ever seen on a lady.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks. I took a course in martial arts, but needn’t have. It seems I have a natural talent.”
Joe pretended to duck. “I’ll remember that.” His eyes narrowed, “So why did you dance with me if you knew who I was?”
“No particular reason. Well, maybe one. I wanted somebody to see me having a good time.”
He ran a hand over his mustache. “Ouch. That hurts, and all that time I thought you were into me.”
Laughing, I shook my head, and my hair swished against his cheek. “Nope. I know the band. I used to hang with the boys.”
“So you mean you used me?” He lifted the champagne bottle and refilled my flute. “Thought about stinging me with the champagne too, right?”
“Uh-huh.” I gave him my prettiest smile.
Brett looked over at J.J. who had a crowd of women in front of the stage, stomping their feet and whistling like crazy. “That him?”
“Yup. He was mistake number one.”
“And your second?”
“Haven’t met him yet.”
The two of us laughed, but Joe looked pissed. “So you danced with me to make that asshole up there jealous?”
“Not exactly. I danced because I like to dance, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Brett looked at me, and lifted a brow. “Care to dance?”
“I’d love to.” I winked at Joe. “Hold my seat.” J.J. was singing one of his ballads, and the music was soft and slow. Brett held me gently in his arms as if I were delicate and might break. Maybe he was just scared of my right hook.
I moved in a tiny bit, close enough to feel his strong chest next to mine. “This is nice. Beats grinding with your pal, Joe.” Brett pulled back a little, glancing toward his girlfriend talking to Joe.
“I like the slow stuff, it gives me a chance to hold a pretty girl in my arms.”
“That’s an honest answer.” I slid in a tiny bit closer.
His hand came up between us, and I couldn’t feel his body any longer. “Samantha and I have been dating a few months. She’s giving us the evil eye right at the moment.”
I turned to look and missed a step, and his grip around my waist became firmer. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a klutz.”
“No, you’re not,” he whispered in my ear, and drew me against him. My senses picked up. I knew that he was aware of my attraction for him, but I could also sense his attraction to me. He might not know he was, but I did.
“What did you do with the paintings from your art exhibit? Did you sell most of them?”
“No. I wish. I’m not that good. Not yet, anyway.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re great.”
“You should tell my old art teacher that. He said my work was mediocre and uninspired, and I’d better find alternate means to support myself.”
“You shitting me?” He smiled down into my face. “A teacher told you that?”
“Yup, right after he hit on me and I turned him down flat.”
His eyes were smiling at me, his hand felt warm on my back, and my chest was pressed into him. Color me happy.
“So, what do you do for a living?”
I told him about the law firm, and getting fired. Then I mentioned my volunteer work at a children’s homeless shelter. “You should see this place. We have kids as young as six, and as old as seventeen, that have been removed from their homes with no place to go. They’ve been physically or sexually abused, or abandoned by their drugged-out parents. Most of them have never known any kind of peace, and this shelter is a safe haven where their hurting can stop.”
“Don’t you find it hard working in a place like that?”
“Not at all. It makes me feel good to help them.”
His eyes were warm on her face. “You’re a good person, Susie Jensen. You ever get married?”
“No, and it’s not likely that I will.” I laughed. “Besides saving kids, I have one more dream. I want to prove that art teacher wrong.”
“Your paintings already have.”
“No, not yet. I can’t support myself with my art, but I intend to one day. Candy’s giving me a job here, so that I can save to go to Europe.” I could hardly contain my excitement as I confided, “I’m going to Florence for a couple of months to study at this fabulous art school. I can’t wait.”
“Sounds great. When do you go?”
“September. So,” I grinned, “I’ll be depending on some really big tips.”
“I’ll remember that,” he smiled back, and my heart did a couple of back flips.
I grazed his cheek with the back of my fingers. “I guess I should return you before Samantha gets really ticked off.”
His grip tightened, and I felt his warm breath on my forehead. “I suppose so.”
“Then why aren’t you letting go of my waist?”
He chuckled. “Beats me.”
We continued to dance. I whispered into his ear, “When I was a kid, I used to have the biggest crush on you.”
He laughed. “Really? I’m flattered.”
I scrunched up my nose at him. “You should be.” When the dance ended he escorted me back to the table. The three of us sat around and polished off most of the champagne.
“So, Joe.” After my second glass of champagne I was thinking he really wasn’t so bad. “Are you a firefighter, too?”
“Sure am. Best job in the world.”
“Aw, my heroes.” I smiled at both men, feeling slightly inebriated and happy with the world.
“It’s awfully dangerous work…” Joe winked. “Since 9/11, the world treats us with more respect.” He flexed his shoulders and boasted, “I’ve never had so many dates. I can hardly fit them all in.”
I rolled my eyes. “How fortunate for all the ladies out there that you even try.” Brett sputtered with laughter, and then our eyes met, and his became all soft and warm like the inside of a brownie. I felt very warm suddenly, but the temperature dropped when Samantha appeared behind him.
The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 32