Her raspy voice had my cock pressing against the zipper of my dress pants. I leaned forward to hide my visible reaction to her, and the bartender’s gaze slid my way. I tapped my empty glass of water to let him know I needed a refill. Then I gave a discreet nod in the blonde’s direction to let him know her drink was on me. The bartender’s raised eyebrows and slack jaw reflected how shocking of a move it was for me. I’d given out hundreds of free drinks on the house to fix customer service issues in the years I’d worked with Andrew, but I couldn’t recall a time when I’d paid for a woman’s drink out of my own pocket while I’d been on the clock.
The blonde didn’t seem to notice. Her attention had shifted to a row of booths to our right, and I glanced over my shoulder to try to figure out what had grabbed her attention. When I spotted one of the guys at the last table staring back at her, I wanted to shift to the side to block his view of her. I was starting to wonder if she’d come to the club for him when the blonde shifted in her seat and muttered, “At least they keep it warm enough in here to make up for how skimpy the waitress’s outfits are.”
I wasn’t able to keep back my bark of laughter at her comment. Her head jerked in my direction, and bright green eyes narrowed at me as she snapped, “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
My gaze wandered down her body and back up again, and I enjoyed the fuck out of the close-up view of her beauty from the front even more than the side. “C’mon. You’ve got to admit it’s at least a little bit humorous considering your outfit covers less than what the waitresses are wearing.”
Her pretty green eyes narrowed, and a hint of color filled her cheeks. “Yeah, but I’m not working. If I decide to dance my ass off, at least I won’t sweat it off. Plus, I can wear whatever the fuck I want. It’s my choice, but I’m almost positive none of the waitresses picked out that pale blue uniform. I’d be willing to bet it was a guy who made that decision, and I’m one-hundred percent against gambling.”
I held up my hands in a sign of surrender, my own cheeks filling with heat since she’d nailed it on the head. Even worse, I was the guy in question since the final call on the uniforms for Ice had been made by me. Luckily for me, the bartender had perfect timing and slid our drinks in front of us. Her attention shifted to him as she dug in her purse and slid a twenty across the bar to him. He pushed it back at her and said, “No worries. The boss already has your drink covered.”
She turned back to me and groaned, “Well, shit. I just put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I?”
I flashed her a grin. “Maybe a little bit.”
She cringed while looking at me hopefully. “Please tell me you aren’t Andrew Rourke.”
“I’m not Andrew,” I reassured her, wondering why she’d be so worried that I was my best friend. Her reaction seemed like more than just being embarrassed for making a negative remark about the waitress’s uniforms to the owner of the club.
She took a sip of her drink while she studied me, and the sight of her plump lips wrapped around the straw almost made me groan. When she was done, she tilted her head to the side and asked, “The bartender called you ‘boss.’ If you’re not Andrew, does that mean you’re the manager?”
“No, I’m the guy who’s usually the go-between for Andrew and the manager.”
She quirked a brow at me. “So that’d make you what? The boss’s boss around here?”
“Yeah, that’d be an accurate description of my role at Ice.”
“Just Ice?”
She took another sip of her drink, and my answer was slow in coming because I was distracted by those lips of hers again. “No, it’s my role for all the places Andrew owns.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t be buying me drinks.” She set her half-empty glass on the bar.
“Why not?”
“If you were Andrew, it’d be okay.”
“What in the hell?” I hissed. Considering my best friend was happily married with a baby, it was definitely not okay for him to buy drinks for the sexiest woman I’d ever met. And even if he hadn’t been, it still wouldn’t have been all right with me because I’d been the one to see her first and the bro code would’ve applied.
“It’s one thing for your brother-in-law”—she paused to tap a bright pink tipped finger against her chin—“or maybe it’s brother-in-law’s brother?”—she shrugged her shoulders—“Either way. Whatever it’s called, that’s a situation where it’s okay for the guy who’s given you a job to buy you a drink. Because even though he’s my boss, he’s still family. But you? You’re my boss’s boss, and you’re not family. That makes you buying me a drink inappropriate.”
She was right. I was her boss’s boss, and I wasn’t technically family. But she was also wrong because I was as good as family since Andrew and I had been best friends since we were kids. And her rambling explanation clued me into who she was...Alessia’s sister.
Of course, the new hire I’d bitched to Andrew about only a few days ago turned out to be the first woman to catch my interest in way too long. And she wasn’t just someone who was going to work for me. She was also permanently connected to me since her sister was married to my best friend’s brother. It made my attraction to her doubly complicated.
Fuck. Talk about shitty luck.
“Mark Anderson. I’m Andrew’s best friend from back when we were kids and basically his right-hand guy in business now that we’re grown up.” I held out my hand to shake hers. When her palm slid against mine, it felt like a spark shot up my arm and I clenched her hand tighter than I’d intended. When I realized I might be hurting her, I reluctantly let go and apologized, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to almost break your hand.”
“No worries. I’m stronger than I look.” She wiggled her fingers to demonstrate that there wasn’t any damage and grinned at me.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“In case it wasn’t clear with my rambling explanation, I’m Ariana Valenti. Andrew’s brother, Alec, is married to my sister, Alessia.”
“Yeah, I figured that out when you were trying to decide what to call Andrew.” A pink blush filled her cheeks again, and her blend of sweet and sexy drew me to her even more. “No need to be embarrassed. When Andrew mentioned that he’d offered you a job, I was confused since he called you his sister-in-law. I thought he meant Alessia at first.”
“That would not have gone over well with Alec.”
It was amazing the difference a few days made, because for the first time ever I didn’t feel the urge to poke fun at Andrew and his brother for how territorial they were about their women. It’d just make me a hypocrite considering the glare I’d given the guy two stools down from Ariana when I’d caught him checking her out as she pushed her drink away. “Did you come into Ice tonight because you’ve decided this is where you’d like to work?”
An image of her dressed like the Ice cocktail waitresses popped into my head. I’d had no problem with those damn uniforms until I pictured her with our male customers drooling all over her. I barely bit back a sigh of relief when she shook her head and answered, “Alec suggested that I check out my options before I make a decision. He got back this morning from his away game in Ohio, and I figured this was the most likely choice for me since it’s similar to the club I worked at in Vegas. I haven’t had the chance to stop by any of his other bars or clubs, but I think maybe I’m ready for a change of pace. Something a little less busy than a club like this.”
“I’ll be at The Box tomorrow night if you want to see if it’s closer to what you’re looking for.” I’d actually prefer if she picked somewhere like Rourke’s instead. The uniforms the waitresses wore at the five-star steakhouse were conservative; black skirts that hit just above the knee with white button-down blouses. And the tips there were just as good as what the cocktail waitresses earned at Ice or The Box, with a better-behaved clientele since the atmosphere was completely different. But that didn’t stop me from extending an invitation to meet up at The Box tomorrow night. Not when it was
an opportunity to spend more time with her.
“I was thinking about heading over there tonight.” She slid her hand down her side, tugging on the bottom of her top before smoothing down her shorts. “I wouldn’t want my outfit to go to waste, after all.”
The wink she sent my way made me chuckle and left me feeling more resolved to convince her to meet me at The Box tomorrow. Not only was she ridiculously sexy, adorable when she blushed, and a loyal sister—talking with her was fun. No matter how complicated starting something up with her would be, my gut told me it was worth the risk. Finding someone who gave me that feeling wasn’t easy, and I refused to back off just because I’d have to be careful not to fuck up our working or semi-family relationships by going after what I wanted.
It was a feeling I hoped like hell was mutual. And judging by the glance she sent my way when she lifted her glass and took another sip from her drink, I figured the chemistry between us wasn’t one-sided. Not after she’d made a big deal earlier about it being inappropriate for me to buy her a drink in the first place.
“You could always stay here longer and keep me company.” I pointed at her almost empty glass. “I’ll even buy you another one of those as you’re not driving.”
A long lock of blond hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side while she made her decision. Then she nodded, gulped down the last of her drink, and set the empty glass on the bar. “You know what? It’s probably a horrible idea since you’re going to be my boss’s boss if I take Andrew up on his offer for a job, but it’s not like we aren’t going to see each other socially while I’m in Chicago anyway. What with you being Andrew’s best friend and my sister being married to his brother. So go ahead and order another round.”
It sounded like she was trying to push me into the friend zone, but that was better than seeing me as completely off-limits because I was her boss. At least it gave me some room to maneuver, and time with her. It wasn’t quite what I was aiming for, but I’d take it.
Chapter Five
Ariana
I shouldn’t have been looking forward to seeing Mark at The Box as much as I was, but I still felt a zing of anticipation as the bouncer waved me inside the sports-themed club. There were so many reasons meeting up with him was a bad idea.
If I took Andrew up on his job offer, Mark was going to be my boss and I had a rule about never dating anyone I worked with, let alone one of the bosses. I’d seen things get way too messy when co-workers of mine were forced to spend time near each other after they’d split up. Or cocktail waitresses who were suddenly moved out of the VIP section to the main floor after they’d stopped sleeping with one of the managers. It was easier to avoid the whole thing by just not shitting where I worked.
There was also the whole connection through my sister thing. You could get a new job after a bad break up, but family was always family. There was no avoiding them for long.
And then there was the fact that Mark was the furthest thing from my normal type. Although considering my past experiences with men, that might actually go in the pros column instead of the cons. I usually went for tatted up bad boys. Musicians, fighters, race car drivers...the perpetually unemployed. Guys who promised they’d call the next day but usually didn’t. Who took you out on dates and were totally fine with you paying most of the time.
Mark was different. He had a stable job that he’d been doing pretty much forever from what he’d told me the night before. We hadn’t been on a date, but he’d still insisted on paying for my drinks. He’d even ordered me an Uber when I’d decided I was ready to head back to the hotel. And he’d sent me a text this afternoon to make sure I was still planning to come to The Box tonight. When I’d confirmed, he’d let me know I could use the VIP line since he’d left my name with the bouncers. Basically, he’d treated me better in the less than twenty-four hours I’d known him than any guy I’d ever dated.
The only thing Mark seemed to have in common with any of my exes was that he was hot as fuck. Even dressed like a stuffed shirt last night, he’d still been drop-dead gorgeous. Part of the reason I’d picked the stool next to him was that I’d figured I wouldn’t have a problem turning him down if he tried making a pass. But that’d only been based on my view of him from behind.
After I’d gotten over my irritation over the fact that he’d thought my comment about the waitress’s uniforms had been funny, I’d noticed that he wasn’t what I’d been expecting when I’d sat down next to him. His brown hair was longer on top and shorter on the sides, with a dark lock resting against his forehead that my fingers had itched to brush away. He was rocking a full beard and mustache, but both were neatly trimmed. His eyes were so dark; they were almost black. And his lashes were so thick that I’d kill to have them. There was no denying my attraction to him, and I wouldn’t have turned him down if he’d made a pass at me. I would’ve been thrilled.
But then the bartender had referred to him as the boss, and I’d been horrified because I thought I’d been perving on Alec’s brother. The one who was happily married with a new baby. And who’d been gracious enough to offer me a job. It’d been a relief to discover who he really was. Flirting with my potential future boss and close friend of the family was a hell of a lot easier to accept, even if it was still super complicated.
I’d planned to end it there, leaving my drink half-empty and keeping things completely on the up-and-up between us. But then we’d gotten to talking, and I’d changed my mind. With the way he was dressed, I’d kind of expected him to have a stick up his ass, but it didn’t take long for me to realize he wasn’t at all what I’d expected.
He was smart, but not in a way that made me feel less than him. His attention never wavered from me except for the few times he had to handle something for the club. He was kind. Had a great sense of humor. And he definitely knew how to flirt.
He was also trouble in a six foot two, lean package because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since I left Ice last night. And with the way my heart sped up as I spotted him at the end of the bar at The Box, I didn’t expect that to change tonight. But with how Mark’s dark eyes lit up and his lips tilted into a grin when I got near enough for him to notice me, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He stood up to greet me, stepping close to press a kiss to my cheek. The scent of his cologne, something spicy with hints of wood and vanilla, filled my senses. It was so delicious, I wanted to pull him closer just to get another good whiff of it.
I managed to resist the urge, but I was breathless when I answered, “Hey, you.”
“You didn’t run into any problems getting in, did you?”
I was about ten minutes later than I’d planned on being, but it had nothing to do with the bouncers. It was because of the number of times I changed my outfit before I finally forced myself to stick with what I had on and left the hotel. I’d gone back and forth between dressing like this was an interview—he was going to be my boss’s boss after all—and a date with a hot guy...which he totally was. Remembering the male appreciation in his gaze when he’d checked out my legs in the shorts I’d worn to Ice, I ended up going with a skirt that hit mid-way down my thigh. As he took a step back, his gaze lingered on my legs and I was filled with a rush of feminine satisfaction at the confirmation that all the agonizing I’d done over my outfit had paid off.
“No problems at all,” I reassured him. “The guy at the door had me down on the VIP list and waived me right inside.”
His dark eyes heated as his gaze drifted down my body again. “Even if I hadn’t added you to the list, I’m sure our bouncers would’ve been more than happy to let you skip the line.”
“You really think so?” I looked up at the VIP section where five women from a bachelorette party were leaning over the railing and singing about putting a ring on it. “It’s not like this place has a shortage of hot babes to draw in the guys.”
“But not a single one of them is half as gorgeous as you.�
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I tilted my head back to look up at him and didn’t spot even the tiniest hint that he wasn’t one hundred percent sincere as he stared right back at me. “Wow. You’re really good at this.”
His lips tilted up in a teasing grin. “At what?”
“Go ahead. Act like you don’t know that you’ve taken the flirt game to a whole new level. It only makes you cuter.”
His grin disappeared and his eyes turned serious. “It’s not a game. I don’t want or need one. Not with you. You’re so damn beautiful, I don’t need to do anything but tell you the God’s honest truth.”
“Like I said. So damn good at this,” I sighed.
“Only with you.”
“Gah! Stop! Tone it down a little before I do something we both might regret later.” I fanned myself with my hand, amazed at how hot and bothered a little bit of flirting with him had already gotten me.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s not exactly a deterrent. It’s more like an incentive to keep on giving you compliments.”
“C’mon!” I laughed. “You have to admit that at least that part was totally flirting.”
His dark eyes filled with humor. “Okay, I’ll give you that one, but it’s still true. And I’m not cute. That’s how a girl would describe their high school boyfriend or something like that.”
“You’re definitely no high schooler.” His grumbling and the pout of his lips as he complained about me calling him cute was totally adorable. I figured he wouldn’t appreciate me telling him that though, so I kept it to myself. “Which is a good thing because if you were, you couldn’t buy me a drink.”
“Is that a hint?”
“Maybe,” I drawled. “I mean, the ride over here took a whole ten minutes.”
“A whole ten minutes, eh? I’d better get you a drink before you die from dehydration.”
Chased into Love (Bachelorette Party Book 4) Page 3