by Lexi C. Foss
“Hey, Sarah,” Chuck greeted at the front door of Louie’s. The burly bouncer was in his forties, bald, and about a foot taller than me. He was perfect for night security.
“Hey, Chuck.” I bumped my fist against his and entered my new world. Someday I would get used to it.
36
Louie’s Bar
After working four nights in a row, I was looking forward to a day off. I had two hours left of my Saturday-night shift at Louie’s, and then I was free to go. I hoped Rachel would be home tomorrow for some girl-bonding time. I hadn’t seen her much since Will’s mysterious appearance last week. There was something going on between them, something my friend didn’t want to talk about. I gave her space, but my curiosity was piqued.
I poured a round of beers for a group of frat boys at the bar. The one I nicknamed Billy was in charge of the tab and drunk off his ass. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He winked at my breasts.
“Anytime, Billy.” I turned around before he could ask me out again.
I regretted wearing jeans and a tank top tonight. June in Chicago was humid, making my clothes cling to my sweaty skin. Louie’s was known for its craft beers, not its air conditioning. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and grabbed a menu to use as a fan as I helped the next customer.
The petite blonde chick gave me a once-over and pursed her ruby lips. Someone loved makeup. “Rum and Coke.” The way she looked down her nose at me made her nickname easy. Bitch.
“ID?”
“Do I look like I’m carrying my ID?” She gestured at her skimpy dress and raised her eyebrows.
“Hmm, unfortunately, it’s bar policy to check anyone who looks under thirty. How about I get you a Coke and hold the rum?” I flashed her a smile that matched my saccharine tone.
“Seriously?”
“Is that a no? Too bad. I make a mean Coke. Let me know if you change your mind.” I moved on to the customer who sat at the far end of the bar during our conversation. My peripheral vision caught his movement, but not his face. I walked over with a napkin and set it in front of the guy.
“What can I get . . . ?” My fake smile died as I met a pair of familiar dark eyes. Fuck.
“Hello, Miss Summers.” Evan gave me a once-over and took the menu from my hand. “Thanks. I’ll let you know what I want in a bit.” He dismissed me by lowering his gaze.
My mouth wagged, but nothing came out. Of all the bars in Chicago . . .
“Hey, sweetheart!” Billy flapped his arms around in an obnoxious pattern. I picked my jaw up off the floor and started toward the drunk man. It would give Evan time to disappear if he entered the bar by mistake.
I folded my arms on the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Well, my buddies and I were thinkin’.” Nothing good ever followed that phrase. “What time do ya get off work?”
“Too late for you.” I smiled to soften my rejection. “You’ll be back on campus before I’m finished up here.”
“Nah, we could wait.” He waggled his brows. “You’d be worth it.”
“Oh, I’d be more than worth it, but I have to get some sleep tonight, and somehow I doubt that’s what you have in mind.” I walked away before he could ask again. If he pushed too much, Chuck would throw his drunk ass outside, and I didn’t want to do that to the poor kid.
I refilled a few drinks for others who approached the bar, and started when Evan took a stool two seats down from Billy. “I decided what I want to drink, if you don’t mind.”
I cocked an eyebrow at the impatient billionaire. “Bourbon?”
He gave a single nod. “Top shelf, please.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” I snatched a bottle of Old Crow from the bottom shelf and poured two fingers over some ice cubes. I handed it to him with a wink. “Enjoy.”
The look he gave the liquid was one of grave offense. “This shit tastes like battery acid.”
“So I hear.” He deserved that and worse.
I helped a few customers waving at me. Evan’s glass was untouched when I returned. With his arms folded, his grey shirt stretched over his biceps. The wicked glint in his gaze made me nervous. I’d seen that look enough to know he was up to no good. Frat boy caught my attention first, stating he wanted to close out his tab. I helped him before returning my attention to the handsome man at the bar.
“What are you doing here, Evan?” His not leaving when he had the chance meant he was here for me, but I had no idea why. He made himself crystal clear when we parted seven weeks ago.
“Well, you know, it’s an interesting thing. I could have sworn I set aside a few million dollars to fund this marketing firm, but for whatever reason, the owner hasn’t used a dime of it. Odd, right?”
Of course. He was here about his precious money. “Maybe the owner changed her mind.”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. She told me it was her dream to manage her own firm and focus on public health programs. I doubt she’d give that up without a good reason.”
“Dreams change.”
“True.” He swirled his drink. “But I don’t think this one has, which is why I’m here.”
I was too exhausted from working three jobs to continue our witty banter. “What do you want me to say, Evan?”
He placed his elbows on the bar. “I want you to explain to me why you’re working here and living with Rachel instead of using the funds I set aside for you.”
I wanted to tell him it was none of his fucking business, but that wasn’t true. He set aside funds for an investment that wasn’t proving fruitful, and wanted to know why. This was a business visit. He could have saved time by calling.
“Look, I’ll make this short so you can get on your way. I’m not opening my own firm, so keep the money and do something else with it. I’ll sign whatever contract you want to relinquish the funds. Just give it to Rachel, and she’ll handle the rest.” I took his glass and dumped it in the sink on my way to the end of the bar. I needed a break. Jill was waiting tables off to the side and saw me coming. “I need five minutes.”
“Sure thing,” the redhead murmured, taking over the bar. She was in her forties and a veteran at Louie’s. That was why she got the tables, while I handled the bar. The seated patrons paid better than those who mingled by the stools, but I got more foot traffic.
I leaned against the wall in the back room with my hands on my knees. I felt sick to my stomach. My heart withered into a ball and died when he confirmed that he was here on business. He was married to his work. That took priority over all else. A month and a half later, and seeing him still took my breath away. His windswept, dark hair, sinful gaze, and muscular physique drew my eyes like a moth to a flame. And I hated him for it. I looked like hell turned over in comparison.
I slid down to the floor and put my head in my palms. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I swallowed them back. I would not cry here. Not at work. Not over him. Not again.
“I’m not interested in drafting a new contract, Miss Summers. I want to discuss the old one.”
37
Misconceptions
“What are you doing back here?” I expected him to leave, not hunt me down in the employees’ break room. His presence took up all the available space in the tiny area, making my heart race. He leaned against the doorway, crossing his jean-clad legs at the ankles.
“We’re not done talking.” His casual tone made me want to hit something, or cry. The waterworks were ready to go, but I was holding them back. I wouldn’t be able to for long if he kept crowding me. It was too much.
“What else do you want me to say, Evan? I haven’t touched your money, and I have no intention of doing so.” I pulled myself up off the floor and dusted off my jeans. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”
His arm blocked my exit. “Why are you turning your back on your dreams, Sarah?”
“Why do you even care, Evan? You won, right? You didn’t have to marry anyone, and now you get to keep your money. Yay you. Can
I go back to work now?”
“Not until you tell me why. After everything we went through, why refuse the money?”
The laugh that bubbled out of me was part anger, part hysteria. I was losing it, and the last thing I wanted to do was break down in front of him. “You really want to know why?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Fine.” I had nothing left to lose. Why not throw my pride away, too? “Because I can’t. Silent partnership or not, you’d still be there, and I can’t be tied to you like that.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Sarah.”
“It wouldn’t make sense to you, would it?” I shook my head. His words were the final nail in my coffin. He needed to go. Now. And I knew what I needed to say to make him leave. At least I would have my closure. “I love you, Evan. That’s why I can’t be tied to you. It hurts too much.” I swiped a treacherous tear from my eye and gave him a sad smile. “I know you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to, but if you ever cared about me at all, then let this be. Take your money and leave me alone.”
I ducked under his arm and went back to the bar to finish my shift. There was nothing left to say. The three dreaded words were out there in the open. A weight was lifted from my shoulders, but my heart throbbed. Leaving him in the back room was the right decision. His response would have only served to hurt me more. I didn’t need him to tell me he couldn’t love me. I already knew.
I didn’t see him leave, but I wasn’t paying attention. I worked in zombie mode, filling drinks and closing tabs. When two o’clock rolled around, I grabbed my purse from the empty employee area and followed Chuck to the back door.
“Be safe, Summers.” He said that every night.
I gave him a wave and forced a smile. “Always.”
Rachel’s apartment was three blocks away. I counted each step, telling myself I could break down as soon as I closed her door. Alone time with a bottle of wine and a tub of ice cream was on my agenda. This depression needed to end. I would allow myself one more night to wallow in it, and then I would move on. I had to.
I was so focused on walking in a straight line that I didn’t see the man who stepped out in front of me on the sidewalk until it was too late. I ran right into his solid chest. His hands went to my hips, steadying me when I would have fallen.
“Fuck, Evan.” I knew it was him without looking up. Leather and pine.
He didn’t let go of me. “Sorry. I was waiting by the front door, but you slipped out the back.”
“Front door of what?”
“Louie’s.”
“Oh.” I peered up at him and sighed. I was exhausted. “What do you need now? Haven’t I told you enough?”
“You have, and I believe it’s my turn now.”
“Your turn for what?”
“To talk. I know it’s two in the morning, but do you want to have a late dinner with me?”
I stared at him. “Dinner?”
“We can make it breakfast if you want.”
“That sounds like a pickup line.”
He grinned. “It does, but it’s not.”
“Why?” His palms were hot on my hips. Seven weeks later and I was still weak for him. Damn it. “Never mind. Fine. Dinner or breakfast.” Whatever it will take to get you to go away and leave me in peace.
When he asked me to get a bite to eat, he meant in his room at Mershano Suites off Michigan Avenue. I didn’t have the energy or willpower to argue. His penthouse suite boasted gorgeous views of Chicago to one side and Lake Michigan to the other. It was dark, but the city’s lights reflected on the water, illuminating the living area. The suite took up half the floor, making me suspect there were two or three bedrooms down the hall to my right and at least that many bathrooms. The square footage of this place was triple that of Rachel’s apartment. I didn’t want to know how much it cost per night.
Evan went to the full kitchen and opened the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. He didn’t ask if I wanted any, just poured a glass and handed it over. I took it because I needed it, and I knew he had good taste. I kicked off my shoes near the oversized couch by the windows and collapsed onto the plush cushions. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since we got in the car, and I wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. He said it was his turn to talk, and I was holding him to that.
“Dinner should be here in thirty minutes.” Evan’s thigh brushed mine as he sat beside me on the couch. He scratched the dark hairs dusting his chin and gave me a look I couldn’t interpret. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“How about you start by telling me why you wanted to have dinner.” That seemed an easy enough place to begin.
“Because I’ve missed you. Because I have a thousand things I need to say to you.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not good at this, Sarah. My relationships always ended before I could really feel anything, so there was never a need to express myself. But with you, well, everything’s different with you.”
“Why is it different?” I tucked my legs up onto the couch and wrapped my arms around my shins.
“That’s not where I want to start.” His intense gaze held mine. “I didn’t sleep with Amber, Sarah. I won’t lie. I considered it because I was hurt, but nothing happened. We didn’t even kiss.”
“Okay.” All I had was his word to go on, and it wasn’t enough to believe him, but I’d let him continue.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, but hear me out. I woke up to her climbing into bed with me, naked. Needless to say, she shocked me. I jumped up and turned on the lights, and she followed, going on about reconciling or some shit. I told her to get dressed and leave, but she wouldn’t listen. I was in the process of forcing her toward the door when you walked in.”
“Why are you telling me this?” It wasn’t a memory I wanted to revisit, much less talk about.
“Because I’m a man of my word, and it really pissed me off when you questioned that.”
I snorted. “I walked in on you caressing Amber’s naked body, Evan. I think I was within my right to question your integrity.”
“You should have had more faith in me by that point.”
“Really? And why is that, Evan? Because you were being faithful to me? Only dating me? Oh, wait, no, you were seeing a dozen other women for half of our relationship, right?” I was being a bitch, and I knew it, but he hurt me. Rational words weren’t on the tip of my tongue.
He turned toward me, his gaze intent. “Of all the times we had made love, did I ever throw my pants on right afterward? Did I ever hold you away at arm’s length afterward?”
My anger died with the onslaught of happy memories—him holding me against him after sex, pressing kisses all over my body, worshiping me. He left in the morning each time, never during the night, except those first few times when all we did was kiss. I swallowed. He was right. I should have had more faith in him.
The fact that you’re asking me that tells me how very wrong I was about everything between us. His words from that night by the elevator haunted me. I didn’t understand what he meant, but now I did. He was disappointed that I questioned his faithfulness to me during the show. His actions spoke louder than words. With the exception of France, he was in my room every night. Why would he go through the hassle if he was sleeping with Amber, too? I was an idiot.
“I never slept with her,” he added, his voice quiet. “We kissed for the camera, but never in private. Not even that night. I never wanted her, Sarah.”
“I’m sorry.” The two words were bitter on my tongue and stained with regret. “You’re right. I should have had more faith in you.”
I wasn’t an irrational person, but love blinded me to reason. It made me do and say things that made no sense. My heart was on my sleeve when I went to his room, and it broke when I found him touching another woman. But I missed the obvious. His chocolate eyes gleamed when lost in a moment of passion, and that wasn’t how he looked at Amber that night. He was pissed. I thought it was at my intrus
ion, but he was angry before I walked through the door. I didn’t notice because I was upset, and I questioned him because I was hurt.
“Our dating wasn’t exactly conventional,” Evan murmured. “And Amber isn’t the reason I wanted to have dinner with you. I just wanted to clear that part up first. I didn’t fuck her, and it pissed me off that you thought I could. After everything, I expected more, but I think we’ve both been operating under some misconceptions. And those started in Iceland.”
I frowned. “I’m not following. What misconceptions?”
“You won’t take my money because you love me. If that’s true, why did you suggest we stop seeing each other after the show?”
“I didn’t.”
“You said we shouldn’t see each other afterward, or at least until the show dies down. Correct?”
My arms tightened around my legs as I tried to hug my knees closer. I didn’t like revisiting this conversation. “You told me you didn’t want anyone finding out about our arrangement, and I knew how you felt about long-term commitments. I suggested what I thought you wanted to hear.”
He stared at me. “And when you did, I assumed that was what you really wanted.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“Really?” He stretched his arms out along the back of the couch and rested his fingers an inch from my knees. “As ridiculous as suggesting we stop seeing each other even though you wanted the opposite?”
“Yeah, but I was doing that . . .” Because that’s what I thought you wanted. “Well, shit.” We did the same thing. “Then what did you want?”
“I told you what I wanted—to keep seeing each other and to be discreet about it.”