My eyes narrow and I can feel my cheeks warm. I thrust my hip to the side and my fist goes to my waist and I look up at him with conviction that I don’t necessarily feel. “You can’t force me to date you, Fox. You’re my boss.”
His smile is wide now, and he laughs, I think heartily. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, you’re…” I don’t really have another answer..
He leans casually against the bar with a smirk. “I’m…? Come on, I’m waiting for your next excuse, or have you run out? Was that the last one?”
“Maybe I’m just not interested,” I say, and it’s not a complete and total lie. I’m not interested in dating at the moment. Now sleeping with him, that’s a different thing altogether.
“Bullshit. I’m not blind, Lola. You can’t stop staring at my mouth.” And the sonofabitch licks the bottom of his lip, and the action almost makes me groan out loud. “This attraction, it’s mutual. Because your mouth, it does things to me too.”
Cocky bastard. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. Time to end this conversation and get my head back to work, where it needs to be. “I don’t even know what that means. I’m not your type, Fox. Trust me,” I say, turning around and ducking under his arm to get inside the bar, essentially ending the conversation. I don’t know what else he says because I put my earbuds back in and begin prepping for the night.
Fox
Like most Friday nights, Panic is packed. Not only am I responsible for who gets inside the club, I’m also in charge of who stays out. Panic is strict about its no-drugs policy—hell, even people who are visibly inebriated aren’t allowed in. So, anyone who is already fucked-up can’t get inside. And more often than not they put up a fight. Sometimes with words, sometimes with fists. But at my size, the idiots who try to get tough usually end up losing. I’ve been working out and playing sports for as long as I can remember. My childhood was basically a vicious cycle of shitty grades and a pissed-off father, and me acting out by concentrating on what I was actually good at and not giving a shit about school, which circled back to my father getting pissed-off even more.
The worse my grades in school got, the more I concentrated on things I was actually good at, which at the time was throwing a ball or a fist.
I have a list of all the people that are on the VIP list in my hand, but mostly, I ignore it. The way the words are all pressed together and the darkness of the club make it hard to read. I already know our VIPs, I don’t need a list. Anyone particularly special, the owners would’ve already talked to me about. When I’m given the list early in the week, I take it home and study it, google some of the characters coming so that I know who they are before they have to tell me their names and I waste time scanning through a long list.
A few times during the evening I rotate with Toro, the head of security and my direct boss, and go check out the inside of the club while he handles the outside. Always, my eyes automatically wander to Lola at the bar. She’s so quiet. I’ve never met anyone that quiet and shy before. She keeps her head down and does her job efficiently and when her shift’s over she leaves. She doesn’t make waves; she’s like a ghost—in and out—barely noticeable. But I notice her. In fact, I can’t help but notice her. I think I’ve become a little obsessed with her. I can’t help it. She intrigues me in ways I can’t explain.
Tonight, she looks up as if she senses I’m watching her. The club is dark and smoky, and with all the strobe lights, it’s hard to see but when her gaze finally lands on me, she smiles and shakes her head. I think she’s laughing at me. She knows I’m not going to give up and, unless I’m reading her completely wrong, I know she doesn’t want me to.
“Fox!” Nick yells, trying to get my attention. “Fox!”
Shit. I’ve been standing here staring at Lola instead of working. “What’s up, boss?”
“Stop staring at the poor woman. She’s going to think you’re some sort of creep.”
Nick and his brother, Matt, have been giving me a hard time about my crazy infatuation with Lola. Matt’s girlfriend, April, even went so far as to say that maybe Lola just didn’t find me attractive.
I’m still trying to process that…
“I’m making headway, man,” I protest. “She just smiled at me.”
He looks over my shoulder. “That’s not a smile. The lights are in her eyes; she’s squinting. Now, let’s talk about the group coming in tonight.”
I follow him to his office but not before looking over my shoulder, hoping Lola’s still watching me. But she’s not.
Shit, maybe the lights were in her eyes.
Lola
I yawn as I climb into bed. Tonight was a great night. I just finished counting my cash tips and tucked it all away in a sock under my mattress to deposit tomorrow. “I’m so close,” I say out loud, happy that I have most of the money for the next installment for my master’s degree. In two and a half months I leave Miami, and I’m not planning on looking back. I’m spending my last semester abroad in Ecuador and I can’t wait.
Unfortunately, I had to put the internship program on hold for a year to save up for it but I’m finally going to do it, now that I’ve saved enough and have been able to make the installment payments. I’ve never been more excited about anything in my life. I can’t wait to leave this place that brings nothing but bad memories.
Maybe I can pull some overtime at the animal clinic in order to move things along. I’m already working as many hours as I can at Panic, so that’s not an option.
I make sure my alarm is set to vibrate at eight, giving me three and a half hours of sleep, then I turn off my bedside lamp. I close my eyes trying to think about my day tomorrow and how I’ll be that much closer to my dreams. Instead I find myself thinking about the man who stares at me from the dark corners of Panic. Instead of finding it creepy I find it frustratingly sexy how much he intrigues me. I’ve seen so many women flirting with him, I’m probably just one of a thousand he hits on. He’s so handsome, with his silvery white hair and that dimpled smile that softens his hard edges. I wonder how old he is. He could be in his twenties or his fifties. It’s that hard to tell.
I wonder what he’d think of my tiny apartment in the worst part of town. Where would he even park his brand-new sports car or plant his expensive silk–trousered ass? Not on my orange Goodwill couch, that I am sure of.
I’ve made peace with the life I have and have set my sights on goals that I’m about to reach. But there’s one thing—just one thing—that I really miss.
Sex.
A relationship would be wonderful but that’s unrealistic at the moment.
Vivian, my friend and boss at the animal clinic, is always pushing me to date.
“There has to be someone who interests you? Someone who’ll make you want to break your no-dating, men-are-assholes rule,” Vivian says.
“When would I date? I work all day. I don’t have time for that. And anyway, men really are assholes.”
“Not all of them. And there’s always time for a little fun, Lola,” she says as she finishes filling out a chart. “How about that guy who’s always asking you out, that bouncer guy you’ve mentioned?”
“Fox?” I say, shaking my head no.
“Why not? Speaking as your friend and not your boss, honey, you need to get laid. You’re young and pretty and it’s not normal to just close yourself off.”
“I’m leaving in a few months, and Fox changes women like most men change socks. Plus, he’s wealthy and ambitious, and he’d probably throw up at the sight of my shitty apartment and…we’re just too different, Viv.”
“Have you seen him with a lot of women?”
Have I? I think back to what I know about him. “Well, no…”
“So, who’s the judgy one now?” That shocks me. Maybe I am being judgmental. I haven’t really seen him
with anyone else. He’s been flirting with me relentlessly, and I’ve never actually witnessed him leaving with the women who approach him.
“I have too much going on to try to fit in all the headache and heartache that comes with dating. Plus, I’m about to leave the country. A relationship is impossible.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?”
For the second time in the last few minutes Vivian surprises me.
Just sex? Is that what she’is suggesting?
Sex is something that seems attainable. But I’ve closed myself off from people for so long, I’m not sure how to open myself up again. And it scares me. Even admitting that it scares me is a big deal for me.
Fox seems to be a fun guy who just wants a date and to get laid. Similar goals, right?
“Why not give him a chance? Why not start with Fox? It’s not like he’s asking for marriage. Who cares if you’re not compatible, right? An attractive, confident man wants to sleep with you, and you’re saying no?”
“Shit, I’m an idiot!”
“My work here’s done,” Vivian says as she leaves me to go tend to a litter of kittens that was brought in earlier.
As the conversation with Vivian replays in my head, thoughts start forming as I doze off to sleep…Maybe Fox is actually the perfect guy for no-strings sex. Why didn’t I listen to Vivian before?
Chapter 2
Lola
I’m pouring a bucket of ice into a cooler behind the bar, and when I stand up, I see Helen talking to Fox. Leaning my forearms on the bar, I watch how she touches his arm and flips her hair and smiles a lot. A surge of annoyance comes over me at how obvious she’s being, but I don’t look away. Boldly, she reaches up to straighten the knot on his tie, which is always perfectly centered on his suit, and he takes a step back.
Interesting.
She pouts and stomps away toward the bathroom. Normally, we work in the red bar together, and she likes to chat. I wonder if she’ll tell me what’s going on with her and Fox. Though, I’m not so sure I want to know.
I’m still leaning forward on my forearms when Fox turns around and readjusts his tie. He looks irritated, but then he looks up and our eyes meet. Even though the rest of the staff is working around us to finish setting up, I can’t seem to see anyone else but him. He starts walking toward me, and I know I should get to work but I’m frozen in place watching the way he moves so confidently and commandingly. I know I can’t resist him any longer. Especially after the little epiphany I had last night.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Probably,” I reply, and he smiles that smile that makes me want to swoon like an absolute idiot. But I school my thoughts and push off the counter and stand up straight, adjusting my shirt and apron.
“Are you ready for tonight?” He leans forward, much like I was just doing, with his forearms on the bar.
When I furrow my brows he adds, “Didn’t you hear? About the VIPs that are coming?”
I shake my head and shrug.
“Well, there are VIPs coming in and the club’s supposed to be at capacity.”
“Cool.” Well that explains why everyone is hustling to get their side work done quickly.
“Everyone’s been wanting to know who’s coming, but the bosses don’t want anyone running their mouth or tweeting or whatever it is you all do on your phones all day,” he says, tipping his head to the server who was doing exactly that on the other side of the club, which makes me laugh. “We don’t want security getting out of hand before they even arrive. That’s what Helen wanted to know.”
“Okay,” I say, not sure why he’s telling me all this.
“Just in case you thought there was something going on between us or something.”
“Nope,” I reply, grabbing a handful of lemons and a knife so that I can get to work.
His big tanned hand snatches the lemons and I look up questioningly. “Woman, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy. I know you were watching Helen talk to me just now.”
My eyes open wide. I’m not sure if he’s being funny or if he’s upset. Luckily, his lips turn up slightly and I let out a breath. I gaze at his lips for a moment longer. “I wasn’t watching Helen. I like to watch you talk.” I can’t believe I boldly admitted that. But his lips, they’re full and so sexy. Without thinking it through and with courage I didn’t know I had, I reach across the bar and run my thumb across the corner of his lip. It’s my favorite spot on his face and when I realize what I’ve done I quickly snatch my hand back. “Sorry,” I croak out, knowing my voice sounds odd. Embarrassed, I take my knife and stumble to the other side of the bar, but he reaches across and grabs my forearm. “You can run, but what you just did, what you just said, I hope you know…it’s on.” And he lets me go and walks away.
It’s on.
Shit, I think I’m in way over my head with this guy. Still what did I expect goading a man like William Fox.
But the temptation was too much and I couldn’t resist.
Fox
Lola threw down the gauntlet.
A woman doesn’t touch a man the sensual way she just touched me without there being consequences. The consequence, of course, is that I know without a doubt that the attraction is mutual and I’m going to convince her to give me a chance. I don’t know what’s holding her back but I’m going to find out later tonight when we’re not swamped at Panic.
It takes about two hours for the staff to find out who the VIPs are and about two hours and five seconds before it’s posted all over social media. Even though that goes against our policies, it’s hard to control. It’s all hands on deck tonight. The line to get into Panic to get a glimpse of rapper Jay Aaron and his equally famous wife, Bee, is out of control. I’m outside with Toro while Matt and Nick are inside working the floor to make sure everything is running smoothly and things don’t get too chaotic. With standing room only and bodies inches apart, it’s difficult to maintain control, especially when most everyone is drunk. At some point I see Matt side by side with Lola tending one of the packed bars and Nick helping out at the VIP bar.
By three A.M. things have settled down a bit. The club’s still packed but the VIPs and their entourage are getting ready to leave, which alleviates the crowd somewhat. I look over from my post up front and see that the bars are still slammed. Lola’s cheeks are red from exertion, Matt has long since removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, Helen has secured her hair in a ponytail, and the rest of the staff is no better for wear. Everyone is smiling and playing their parts but they all seem exhausted.
By six in the morning, most of the staff is still at Panic even though we’ve cleared the customers out. “Holy fuck,” Nick mutters, running his fingers through his hair as he grabs three bottles of water and tosses one to me and another to Matt.
“I second that,” I say, gulping down water as I look around the empty club, making mental notes of things that went wrong or could have been done better in terms of security. Some of the staff are sitting around with their legs up and a few are wiping down the tables and bar tops. The lights are on and the floor is littered with napkins and cups and spilled liquid for the cleaning crew to deal with later this morning.
“Great night, but I’m fuckin’ beat,” Matt says.
Nick’s phone chirps and he pulls it out, a smile spreading across his face as he reads something on the screen. “I’m heading out.”
Matt rolls his eyes and mutters, “Pussy-whipped,” which makes me laugh because Matt’s just as much a goner for his woman as Nick is for Katherine. But they’re always messing with each other.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Nick admits, not even denying it. He takes out his wallet and drops a bunch of hundred-dollar bills on my palm. “Take ’em out to breakfast. They deserve it.” He gestures to the staff before slapp
ing my back with his palm and leaving.
“Worked all night with your girl,” Matt says looking toward the bar where Lola is cleaning up. “Great worker. Never complains. Always on time. Customers love her.”
I haven’t exactly kept my infatuation a secret. They know I want her. They also know she won’t give me the time of day. I gulp down more water as I glance over at Lola. She must sense my gaze because she turns her head. Our eyes meet for a moment before she looks back down. Matt chuckles. “Okay, maybe she’s not your girl.”
“Not yet.”
“There is something about her though,” Matt says introspectively.
“I know, right?”
He chuckles again. “Not because she won’t go out with you, man. That just makes her smart.” I know he’s teasing. “There’s something else going on with her but I can’t put my finger on it. She’s really shy.”
“Is she though?” I ask. I think of her finger on my lips. That’s not something a shy woman does. I agree with Matt though; there is something to Lola that I can’t seem to figure out. “She doesn’t seem shy with the customers.”
We’re both standing there looking at Lola. “True,” he agrees then tosses his bottle of water into the nearest recycling bin. “Well, I have enough at home trying to figure out what’s going on with my woman. Can’t stand here and figure out yours. Good luck with that. Tough nut to crack, that one.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You got this?” Matt asks, looking around his club. Toro is long gone and I’m the only one left other than the service staff.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, and Matt slaps my shoulder much like Nick did a minute ago and heads out.
I do a final walk-through of the club, then stand on a chair and holler at the staff. “Breakfast on the bosses!”
Kiss Me Back Page 2