The Bar Scene

by Ginny Frost

  She wrenched open the door and stormed from the conference room, no longer caring about her unprofessional behavior. It didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t need the job. Not with a boss who was a liar and a manipulator, probably a manwhore too. She banged through the outer doors, causing the receptionist to squeak in surprise. Was Drew sleeping with her too? How about Maura?

  Anger poured through her like molten lava. He’d deceived her. Never told her his last name. Never corrected her when she talked about his classes or school. Her face burned. She’d fallen in love with a man she didn’t know. Jabbing a finger repeatedly at the elevator call button, she hoped for a speedy exit.

  ****

  “Terese, will you wait?” Drew hurried after her, hoping to catch her before she disappeared into the elevator. She jerked her head toward him. Her face transformed into a mask of fury and betrayal, not unlike her expression the night she bounced that drunk from the bar. “We should talk about this.”

  She snorted and continued pressing the call button.

  He closed the distance between them and put his hand on her arm. She twisted away immediately, taking a few tottering steps back.

  “Get away from me. I never want to see you again,” she hissed. Whipping around him, she bolted for the stairwell. Drew scowled, as anger rose in his chest. This wasn’t the place for a fight, but he’d be damned if he let her stomp out the door like some six-year-old child.

  He snatched her arm before she launched herself down the stairs. He tucked her against his side, whispering into her ear. “Let’s go somewhere and talk about it. Like adults, okay?” That got him a red-hot glare, but he coaxed her back, past a stunned Maura, and into the boardroom.

  Once inside, Terese wrenched her arm from his grip and threw her bag and briefcase into a chair. She turned to him, mouth pursed, arms crossed with an “I will castrate you” glare in her eye. Other than that, she was beautiful. Drew took a moment to memorize her Jackie O look. Sexy, but her tapping foot said she wasn’t in the mood for compliments.

  He kicked himself for not being honest with her from the start. “I can explain.” Then he realized how lame it sounded. He should’ve known Terese would apply at the conference center. She had mad skills. Hell, he’d spoken with his father about it, but not her. “I…”

  Wagging a finger, she said, “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to explain away this ridiculous game. I trusted you, and you didn’t even tell me your last name.”

  Drew’s back went up. “You never asked.” A douche answer, but she wasn’t playing fair either.

  She stared at him hard for a minute, then began pacing. “Not once did you mention your dad is Spencer Drake. Not once did you say ‘Hey, Terese, I’m not some college kid. I’m actually an executive at Drake Industries.’ You left me swinging in the wind, thinking I had some golden boy chasing me.”

  “So you’d rather I’d been some college kid chasing you. Cougar much?” He regretted the words as they flew from his lips. He flinched at his own ugliness.

  Terese lifted her chin, her nostrils flaring. “I took a chance on you. I didn’t know you were ‘in disguise.’” Flashing quote-y fingers, she spat the last word with as much sarcasm as a person could squish into three syllables.

  “You knew what I looked like before?” Maybe she’d remembered him. He waited.

  “Of course, I did.” She threw her arms up in frustration.

  “How?” Drew crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. If she’d remembered the first time he asked her out, he’d go ape shit. The rejection had rocked his world. He’d changed so much because of it.

  Changed for her.

  Terese glowered at him for a moment before replying, “Your picture is on Drake’s website. Along with your real name.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Drew hadn’t thought of that. Of course, his picture featured on the website, and Terese would’ve researched the job. Fuck. Why hadn’t she told him about her interview? “No one calls me Andrew. Not even my father.” He paused. “But you don’t remember meeting me?”

  “Of course, I remember you! I’ve been screwing you for the past six days.” She shook her head, exasperated. Turning away, she started pacing again. “Today was the biggest day of my life, and you ruined it. I knew you were a mistake. What the hell was I thinking?”

  “Apparently, the past week meant nothing to you.” His mouth curled in a snarl. Let’s forget for a moment he was as shocked as she. But a mistake? Low blow. He crossed his arms over his chest, straining not to scream or shake her. They had connected. Fuck her for dismissing everything for one stupid misunderstanding.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t know who the hell you were! You took advantage of me. Following me around, stalking me.” Her words hit him like lashes from a whip.

  Stalking? His face scrunched into a grimace. “I didn’t hear you complaining once. You laughed about it, remember?”

  She flapped her arms again. “Yeah, when I thought it was a joke.” She waved her hand at his hair. “So what was that about? A disguise to get me in bed? Didn’t think I’d go for you as a business exec?” She scoffed. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me.” She turned her back on him, and his vision reddened as the pain stabbed him through.

  He kept his voice low, his teeth clenched. “I did ask you out. I go to your bar almost every Friday with the suits from Drake.” He flicked the lapels on his jacket. “You know, the group of office guys in the corner you and the waitresses scoff at.” Terese gazed over her shoulder, studying him. “Yeah, I was there. A lot. And I asked you out. You treated me like some worthless nobody, too insignificant for your attention.”

  “Whatever.” Her voice lost some of its fire. Waving dismissively, she continued, “At least you didn’t take up too much of my time.” Her irate words held a tinge of sorrow. Drew didn’t care. He was beyond pissed.

  “So what am I to you? Just a penis with legs, here to service you?”

  She spun and charged him. “You lied about who you are.” She emphasized each word by poking him in the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ignoring her question, he continued, “Terese. I asked you out in my stupid suit weeks ago. You blew me off.”

  “I don’t remember that,” she said.

  “Of course, you don’t.” His anger and humiliation broke free, unable to hide anymore. His eyes burned. “I wasn’t cool or hip or exciting. But when I came at you like some college student, you were all over me.”

  Frowning, she took a step back. “You started the whole thing with that soul-sucking smooch.” She leaned against the edge of the conference table. Tears swam in her eyes. Wrapped up in his own pain, he almost missed it.

  “Yeah, and if I had kissed you while wearing the suit, you would’ve slapped me and bounced me out of the bar.”

  She sniffled. “I’m not some superficial, sorority girl looking for a nice ass and a big cock.” But wasn’t she? She’d rejected him in the suit. Was she rejecting him now?

  “No. You’re a twenty-six-year-old waitress who still thinks she’s twenty. Playing at the bar, still partying like college never ended.”

  ****

  “No, I’m not.” But Drew’s words drained the strength from her legs. Did he really think that? Tears freely rolled down her cheeks. Shame burst through her, and she wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He thought her a shallow, party girl.

  As if she wasn’t struggling with enough agony, an image of her cell phone bill bloomed in her mind. No money. No job here. No job at the Tavern. She was unemployed and up to her eyeballs in debt. Even selling her car and her beautiful shoes wouldn’t keep her off the street now.

  Anger pulsed through her as she tried to pull herself together. “Why do you think I needed a new job? Why do you think I came to the interview? I told you I was thinking about a career. You didn’t say anything about working here. Or tell me your real name!” She stomped her foot, feeling like an angry toddler.


  “I’m thrilled you’re here.” But he sounded cold, definitely not thrilled. “I think it’s a great step for you. You’d be fantastic as the concierge or the event planner.” His gaze flat, his mouth a straight line.

  She blinked at him, startled by the contrast between his words and the emotions he projected. Why was he angry? She was the wronged party here. Her temper blazed a fiery road before her, and she marched down it, unthinking. “So what? If I keep sucking your cock even though I know the truth, I get the job?”

  The words burst out of her fueled by the heat of her embarrassment. A bridge burned brightly before her, but she couldn’t see it through the cloud of her fury. The worry about money and her future would’ve been solved today if Drew hadn’t lied to her. Hadn’t ruined her best chance to make something of herself.

  The whole situation reeked of favoritism, which she loathed. After all the hard work at the bar, she didn’t want to start a new job with the “boss’s girlfriend” label hanging around her neck.

  Drew, who’d been stone, cold and indifferent, now vibrated with ire. “Is that what you really think of me?”

  Lips trembling, she grasped for words. “You lied to me the whole time about who you were!”

  “No, I didn’t,” he snapped. “Not about who I really was. I only wore a different costume, like what you do at the bar. I dressed in the right outfit for the right event. You of all people should understand.”

  The logic flew right over her head. How dare he throw the clothes thing at her? It was all she had, some days, the only thing that made her feel real, important, beautiful. Low blow, Drew.

  Cutting back to the original problem, she spit out, “It doesn’t change the fact you lied. You could’ve told me anytime, any day who you really are.” Her words fell like stones. “Instead, I find out here.” She flung her arms out, indicating the opulent conference room. “You throw it at me at the most important moment of my adult life.”

  Drew blinked at her, the tension melting from his body as his mouth went slack and his brow unfurled. Maybe he was starting to understand how badly he’d betrayed her.

  “Now, thanks to you, I’m screwed with my finances, my career, my fucking life.” She gathered up her things and tried to make a dignified exit.

  Drew crossed to her, grasping her arm. “Terese,” he said. Hearing him say her name with such a mix of emotions—anger, love, trepidation—just about killed her. She couldn’t face him, was deaf to anything he might say. She turned her head away but lacked the strength to wrench her arm back. “Look…”

  Everything ground to a halt.

  They stood there, she leaning down to get her purse, he with his arm on hers. Neither spoke for minutes.

  It was over.

  Whatever this crazy thing between them had been, now it was finished with a spectacular fail. Her heart squeezed, and it took all her strength not to cry out. Another tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away.

  “Terese…” He said her name again in a low, quiet tone.

  No, she wasn’t going to let the situation pass. More than missing a date or embarrassing her at work, her career, her life was on the line.

  “What?” she snipped, finding the guts to meet his gaze.

  “I can fix it. I can get you the job you want. Then we”—he waved his hand between them—“can figure this out.” His brows furrowed as his tone became more exacerbated.

  Derisively, she snorted. “Yeah, great. Then everyone can say I slept with you to get the job. That I only got it by opening my legs. Exactly how I want to start a new career.”

  “No, Terese, no one would think that.” He tried to pull her into him. Hugging him was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “You have no idea, do you? Daddy got you your job, and no one questions your ability. But if you get the girl you are screwing a job, everyone’ll talk.” He shook his head, and she wanted to slap him. “It’s not the same for women. We are held to a higher standard.”

  “Terese, it’s not like that here. My dad—”

  She cut him off, done with bullshit. “Your dad, nothing. Take the woman assisting you today. Tell me no one thinks sex played a factor in her position.” He seemed to think about it for a second, then shook his head again.

  “No, she’s my dad’s executive assistant. He didn’t…”

  “But who did she work for before him? And before that? Tell me honestly, with a sex bomb for a secretary, no one talked.”

  Drew swallowed hard. Maybe he saw her point. “Terese, let me help.” The determination in his voice only broke her heart more. She was losing the dream job and the dream man in one fell swoop.

  She picked up her bag and the briefcase, squared her shoulders, and looked him in the eye, in those dark, gorgeous eyes. “You can’t, Andrew. You fucked up my life because you weren’t honest with me. I’m done.”

  Sniffling in earnest, she exited the building, heading back to her empty life. Slamming against her car door, she fished for her keys, but the tears blinded her. Frustrated and openly sobbing, she tossed the purse to the pavement as the heartbreak overtook her. Drew hadn’t bothered to chase her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Terese failed to meet Alan’s gaze. Anger and shame battled in her gut, sending out waves of nausea. Her gaze flew around the bar, searching for something else to focus on, rather than meet her boss’s eye. Confrontations were so messy and annoying, but sharing the interview story was the right thing to do.

  “Tell me what happened.” His elbow rested on the bar, his hand cupping a Guinness.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snipped, scuffing her knock-off Jimmy Choo’s on the floor. Like some toddler. Biting her lip, she cut the self-reprimand off at the root. She felt bad enough without self-flagellation.

  “When you didn’t call me, singing songs of thanks, I figured the interview didn’t go well. Was it my recommendation? Did I taint your name somehow?” Alan’s brow furrowed, and another pang of guilt ripped through her. Dammit, he blamed himself.

  Straightening her shoulders, she met his gaze. Quickly, she glanced at the office door, to Eric, who needed to know nothing about her mess, then back at her boss. Understanding, Alan nodded, grabbed his drink, and headed for the office. Terese caught Eric’s eye before following Alan.

  “You know, you can talk to me too,” Eric said, bowing his head. He polished a beer mug. “I’m a pro at listening.” A weak smile graced his lips, and the guilt twisted harder in her stomach.

  She sighed, hating she dismissed him so easily. “Maybe later. I need to figure out my job situation first.” Eric nodded. He’d known about the interview and her lack of happy reaction after it. He hadn’t said a word, though she knew he was dying to hear about it.

  She reached over and touched his arm. “We’ll talk later.” His brow furrowed, but he nodded. He was a good guy, but he’d never understand the baggage that came with her meltdown yesterday.

  Alan held open the office door as she trudged in. He didn’t speak, letting her choose her seat. One glance at her chair behind the desk sent her stomach rolling again. She plunked down in the reserve chair instead. Alan raised an eyebrow at her choice but remained stonily silent as he sat in the desk chair.

  “No interview?” he asked, starting the ball rolling again.

  “No.” To her surprise, tears popped in her eyes. “I left before it started. I…” She swallowed hard, pressing her lips in a grimace.

  “Why, Terese?” Typical Alan, cutting right to the chase without tons of extra words. He didn’t go on about what a great opportunity she’d missed. Or chastise her for dropping the ball he carefully placed in her hands.

  She gulped back a sob. “Because the guy interviewing me…”

  “George?” Alan asked, surprised.

  “No, it was a guy I met here. We hooked up, and then there he was in the interview room, in a suit, all slick like some real businessman. And so smug and stupid and he didn’t tell me who he was.
He lied to me, used me, and then ruined everything.” The words poured out of her like one of Drew’s stupid waterfalls. The waterfall image morphed into a tiny ball of pain in her chest.

  “Whoa, wait.” Alan held up a hand, stopping her tirade of words. “What guy?” A sliver of steel crept into his voice. She never discussed her boyfriends with him, but when she did, he tended to play the over-protective big brother.

  “A guy came in last week, young, sexy. I took him home.”

  His eyebrow raised again, his mouth a flat line.

  “I’m not some kid anymore. I can have a one-night once in a while.” She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. The ball in her chest grew in diameter, thinking about the first night with Drew. It’d been picture perfect. Shaking her head to dismiss the memory and the emotions it evoked, she hunched, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Sounds like more than that.” He twisted the chair back and forth. “Who is he?”

  She dropped her head, sniffling, heat roasting her cheeks. “Andrew Drake.”

  Alan, the bastard, laughed out loud, a genuine hoot of mirth. She glowered at him. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding up a hand. “You had an affair with Andrew Drake. So why did I set up your interview?” He chuckled in his hand, ignoring her black look.

  “I didn’t know it was him. I swear. Blond hair, no glasses, no beard. Nothing like the picture on the website. How was I supposed to know?” She huffed, crossing her legs and pulling her arms tighter across her chest. The ball of pain opened into a pit. Explaining it made her feel like an ignorant ass. A clueless, bubbleheaded waitress. She ground her teeth at the thought.

  “So you slept with him multiple times but didn’t get his name?” His eyebrow lifted almost to his hairline. For the first time in her life, she wanted to smack him. Alan never treated her like some sorority bunny. They interacted almost like partners before the audit. What was his problem? The pit in her chest filled with fire, and she stood, shoving the chair back.

  “He told me his name was Drew. I’m not some bimbo, Alan. I don’t screw around,” she roared at him, giving him the full brunt of her pain.