Audrey’s brows dipped. “What do you mean?”
“Your name. How long did he call you everything but Audrey?”
Her friend chuckled with the frown between her brows dipping further. “Never.”
Sonya’s smile wavered, then she ventured to say, “And you refer to him as Mr. Manning?”
“As I said, we’re hardly on friendly terms.” Her smile too disappeared.
She stared at her friend for the longest time before the smell of straightening solution began to sting her eyes and her head began to burn of the solution. “I think it’s time, Audrey.”
“For what?” She looked alarmed, then visibly relaxed when Sonya pointed to the towel covering the frizz ball on her head. “Right, your hair. Of course, let’s get it out and see how it worked.”
Sonya watched as her friend went to the back room to prepare the cleansing solution. She was in the process of getting up and following her when she heard some voices coming from the hall corridor.
Intrigued, she went over to investigate. One of them would obviously belong to Daniel, since his apartment was the only one on the opposite side. She figured the other voice would probably belong to Mrs. Sterling making yet another complaint against Sonya. She listened in with interest and amusement. This would create a bout of small fun.
However, she was surprised when the other voice actually belonged to an unknown source. It wasn’t Mrs. Sterling after all. Curious, she stood up on tiptoe and peered through the peephole. She could see Daniel standing in his apartment entrance and a redheaded woman was standing directly in front of him. He looked slightly grave and the woman’s voice sounded excited. Sonya pressed her ear closer to the wooden door.
Though their voices were still not very audible, she was able to snatch a few clear words. She heard Daniel say and in the process catching her attention; “I missed you tonight.”
“Oh Daniel, I feel just horrible,” the redheaded woman said. “You know how much I wanted to be with you.”
Sonya’s brow rose in intrigue and squinted her eye to get a better image of the woman. Daniel said something but she wasn’t terribly sure what it was because the woman moved and blocked him from Sonya’s view. When she stepped back again, she noticed something in Daniel’s hand.
“I’ve got to get going before Jonathan notices me missing. I just couldn’t bear to let you think I didn’t care.”
“I know.” He grinned.
Then the woman unexpectedly reached up and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She said something else but Sonya wasn’t able to catch it.
His response was muffled in the mass of red curls and Sonya found herself wanting to give anything to hear their words. The dramatic scene lit her fascination.
“I’ve got to go.” The woman backed up further and nearly blocked Sonya’s entire view.
Annoyed, Sonya waved her hand as if to shove the woman out of the way. “We’ll get together soon.”
Though she couldn’t see him, she heard Daniel reply. “Promise?”
“Yes.” Giving him another parting kiss, she ran down the corridor. Daniel watched her go.
Then without warning he looked up and directly at Sonya’s door. She immediately leaped away from the peephole as if she were caught spying; even knowing full well he couldn’t see her.
“Sonya, are you coming?” Audrey’s voice drew her attention away from the closed apartment door and the little soap opera on the opposite side.
Turning to head down to the bathroom, her mind replayed the little scene over again in her mind. Who was this redhead? Though it was obvious the woman hadn’t been at his apartment for long, the passionate disclosure of their conversation would imply they shared an intimate relationship, possibly even secretive.
Sonya had a sudden urge to find out just who this redheaded woman was, and why Daniel was keeping her a secret.
* * *
After knocking on Sonya’s apartment door, Daniel ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes were beginning to ache after staring at the computer screen for so long. He hadn’t minded the interruption when she called and begged him to rush over. Another one of her female crisis, he was sure. It gave him the break he needed but wouldn’t have given himself. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes then stretched his arms behind his head and flexed his shoulder blades. What he wouldn’t give for a massage.
“It’s not locked, Daniel, come on in.”
The first thing that always struck him when he first entered her apartment was the color. She used so much of it. It had an uncanny way of matching the owner. The next thing he always noticed was the smell. She was constantly burning incense candles. Either she believed they improved her skin texture or her mood swings, he couldn’t recall which.
From the back bedroom she emerged wearing a new dress. Being a man, he would refer to it only as a dress. However, the garment deserved a finer name. It was a light material that flowed softly along her body and over her slender hips and came to stop mid-thigh. Those magnificent legs of hers looked long and absolutely spectacular in it.
“Daniel?” She said his name, drawing his attention back up. But it was her hair that had him speechless. It hung long and glistening down to her waist. Not a curl in site.
A grin began to slowly appear on her face, obviously mocking him at his very evident male appraisal of her looks. He had to clear his throat before answering. “Yes?”
“I wanted your opinion.” She eyed him closely. “Do you think you can give me an unbiased one?”
His face grew hard. Conceited wench. “I think so.”
Giving him a broad grin, she came closer and scooped up her hair. “Up or down?”
The lump in his throat returned. Lord, she was far too close. She smelled so good. “Um, down, it looks good down.”
She raised a brow. “No commentary? No spew of useless information?”
He nearly tripped over his own feet as he took a swift step back. “Did you know a strand of hair consists of keratin protein containing an amino acid that produces a disulphide bridge—”
“Daniel.”
“—which links protein chains in the hair—”
“Daniel.”
He halted mid-sentence when his legs hit the back of her sofa and she took a step closer. “Y-yes?”
“How do I look without curls?”
“Nice.” That cursed lump was beginning to choke him slowly.
“Nice?” She rolled her eyes. “Anyone ever tell you, Daniel Keller, you need to work on your words of flattery?”
He simply shook his head, the uncomfortable bulge in his throat was beginning to have a similar reaction in his chest and he feared would begin a downward descent.
Leaning closer, she frowned at him. “Are you all right? I mean, you don’t look so good.”
He couldn’t have stopped his hand if he wanted. As if belonging to another man, he watched as it lifted and gently ran through her long tresses. It was obvious she was taken aback, but she only turned her head slightly in the direction of his hand and gave him a curious look.
“Uh, it, um—” He swallowed the thick mucus forming in the back of his throat. Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe, dammit. “It looks better.”
She grinned all at once, yet still did not step away from his hand where it remained drowning in her hair. “You didn’t like the afro?”
“I like it straight.”
Her smile faltered. “Really?”
“It suits you. It’s more natural.”
She stared up at him speechless. Their eyes locked then all at once something foreign shot across her face before she took a swift step away from his hand. “It is.”
“Pardon?” He blinked, dropping his abandoned hand to his side.
“Naturally straight.” She pointed to her head. “My hair.”
He nodded in understanding, then sighed heavily, trying to collect himself. Hell, she always made him feel like a horny adolescent teenager. “W
as that all you wanted? Because I have, um, I’m working on something and I’ve got to go—um, I have to meet my intern down at the Institute in, uh, well—soon.”
“Yes.” She gave him the same smile she had always bestowed him over the past year. No sexual innuendo, no enticement, no temptation. Just a simple, friendly and cordial smile. “Thank you, Daniel. What would I do without you?”
“Right.” Giving a short nod, he turned and swept out of the apartment as fast as he could.
The question was, what would he do without her?
* * *
“Your place or mine?” Tristan’s arm was crossed over the back of her seat, only inches away from touching her. In actual fact, he hadn’t made one attempt to touch her all night. His question almost sounded ludicrous. She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes and remembered how long she wanted this. Ever since she first laid eyes on him, she claimed him as hers. No matter what the cost, she was going to get that man.
He was a challenge. She even went so far as getting a job in his bar to come in closer contact with him. It was four weeks now, and still he showed as little interest as he did before she was his employee. So why the question? Did he seriously think she would sleep with him simply because she was attracted to him? She made no secret of her attraction. However, she did have her pride.
“Actually, I would like to go back to the bar.”
He frowned. “Why? It’s not open, nobody will be there.”
“Exactly.” She purposely put a sparkle in her eye.
The evening had been on the enjoyable side. Apart from this last scene, he made no improper moves on her. Or proper, as she was anticipating. She would have believed she was actually falling in love with the guy if she believed in that kind of fairytale. He was acting like a true gentleman. But there was something about him that just wasn’t adding up.
They pulled up in front of the bar fifteen minutes later and Sonya stood back and waited while he unlocked the door. He entered the building before her, throwing the overhead light on, then stepped back and allowed her to proceed. The place was silent. Reminding her of her job interview when she sat at one of the tables with Tristan across from her.
He leaned back against one of the walls and watched her with lazy eyes. Lord, they were still quite sexy. She smiled and turned to look at him. He pushed himself off the wall then sauntered toward her, coming to a stop just a foot in front of her but refrained from making any physical contact. Still, he was close enough she could feel his breath.
“Tristan?”
“Mmm?” He stared down at her, his eyes scanning her features.
“I want to audition.”
“For what?” Her hair blew gently as he stepped closer. Still without touching.
“Your stage. I want to perform on your stage.”
He remained expressionless, but he did take a noticeable step back. “How?”
“How?” Puzzled by the question, she nevertheless ventured to say, “Sing. I want to sing on your stage. Just give me a chance and I’ll prove I’m worth it.”
Tristan studied her face before asking, “How long have you been wanting this?”
She bit her lip. “You didn’t think I had my sights on waitressing for a career, did you? Come on, let me perform for you right now and if you don’t like what you hear, I’ll never ask again.”
Sighing, he pulled out a chair and dropped down into it. “Fine. One song. Let’s hear it.”
She grinned, then turned and jumped up onto the stage. None of the microphones or equipment were set up, but she wanted the feel of performing on stage. Then clearing her throat and sweeping a curtain of hair over her shoulder, she embarked on the lyrics of a well-known song she long ago practiced and memorized. Without the single aid of a musical instrument, she belted out the song and hit every cord and note until at last she sang the last lyric.
When she was done she looked down at Tristan and nervously examined his face for a reaction. She felt she gave him a good performance. She was quite pleased with her rendition of the song and was relieved when Tristan stood up and nodded.
“Not bad,” he said. “Actually, pretty good.”
“You sound surprised.” She smirked. “I wouldn’t have wasted your time if I thought otherwise.”
He actually produced a genuine grin. “All right. One night a week. Monday. I’ll leave the busier nights for the house band.”
If it would not have looked unprofessional, Sonya would have jumped up and down with joy. Instead, she replied, “You won’t regret it.”
“Why do I feel like I already do?” This time he offered her a full smile. “Do you always get what you want?”
She stared down at him. He looked absolutely gorgeous but unattainable in the dim lighting. With a little sigh, she admitted, “No.”
His brows arched. “Why else would you have taken this job? You said yourself, waitressing wasn’t in your career goals.”
Sonya chuckled. “Is it for anyone? Especially in an establishment such as this. It can be one hell of a dangerous game if not careful.”
“Dangerous?” he asked softly, implying she had a double meaning.
“Come on, Tristan,” she said. “Even locked away in your office you must realize the risks your waitresses encounter on a nightly basis.”
His low chuckle drifted up towards her. “I find it hard to believe you are threatened by any man.”
She chuckled as well, then jumped down off the stage to stand in front of him. “Maybe. I probably would have taken out that asshole’s chance of ever having babies if it were me last Saturday.”
He looked puzzled. “That doesn’t sound like very good customer service. What asshole in particular are you referring to?”
“The bozo who looks like he hasn’t been laid in years and probably won’t be anytime soon either.”
Tristan looked amused but still confused. “Why do I suddenly pity the poor fellow you’re talking about?”
She grinned and played with the thought of running her hand up his arm. Feeling giddy with happiness from her successful audition, Sonya idly toyed with the image of Tristan grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her up on to the bar where he would drive his passion home. “You mean you missed out on Saturday’s little scene?”
“Apparently.” The amusement began to slowly ease away, if not the look of confusion.
“Didn’t your bouncers tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Now he was beginning to look slightly perplexed, if not a bit more irritated.
Sonya had an overwhelming urge to shut herself up. “I guess it was nothing. Audrey probably just didn’t want to make a fuss.”
“Audrey?” His features became all at once serious. “What are you talking about?”
She sighed; realizing her big mouth might have just opened a can of worms. “There’s this usual customer who is constantly making a play for Audrey. Whenever she’s working, he can’t keep his hands off her.”
Tristan’s features slowly began to turn hard. “That’s part of the job.”
She nodded in understanding. “And it’s completely understood. Really.” She reassured him. “But sometimes it’s just not worth it, especially after Saturday night.”
“What was so unusual about Saturday night?” She could tell he was working at keeping his features bland.
“The jerk pulled out his—“She made a gesture toward the area below his belt line. “He grabbed Audrey, mini skirt and all, and dragged her unwillingly on top of him.”
The nerve along Tristan’s jaw began to work hard. His lips clenched and he blinked with purpose before spitting out the words, “Was she hurt?”
“No, thank goodness. Those bouncers of yours come in handy.” She grinned and moved closer, hoping her story proved everything was all right and his staff was fully capable of dealing with out-of-hand customers.
However, he backed away, automatically halting her advances. “Listen, it’s later than I thought. I think I better take you home.�
�
Sonya had an uncomfortable feeling she hadn’t been successful after all. Taking a deep breath, she smiled in acknowledgement but inwardly hoped Audrey wouldn’t be terribly angry with her.
* * *
Sonya held a finger in one ear and her cell phone in the other. The band was playing to an overzealous crowd tonight. It was busier than usual. The number of bodies in the place made walking next to impossible, let alone carrying a tray of drinks. Smoke was thick and the stench of alcohol filled the air. Even as she stood leaning over the bar counter, phone to ear, she could feel her backside being thrust about as lively patrons tried to make their way through the thick crowd.
Her shift had ended half an hour ago, but when she went out to the parking lot she discovered her car was blocked and she was unable to leave. She toyed with the idea of walking home, but her feet were aching in her three-inch sandals. Clientele had been demanding that night and she barely had a chance to sit, let alone take any breaks.
“Daniel?”
His voice was barely intelligible over the loud backdrop behind her.
“I can’t get out.” She pressed the phone closer to her ear while simultaneously trying to find a corner with a better signal as she had trouble making out his words. “Can you come down and get me?”
“—how—drinks—?” Was all she was able to make out.
“What?”
Again she heard his voice but not his words. Frustrated, she said, “Yeah, yeah. Can you come down and get me?”
She was pretty sure he said something in the affirmative and happily hung up.
“What a night.” Audrey sidled up to the bar and dropped her tray onto the counter then shot a questioning glance her way. “Why are you still here?”
“I couldn’t get my car out. Daniel is coming to pick me up.”
Audrey nodded, then glanced up at her friend. “I heard you finally convinced Tristan to let you perform?”
She nodded. “It wasn’t that difficult after all.”
Sonya thought she detected a look of resentment cross her friend’s otherwise congenial features, but when someone stepped between them, blocking Audrey momentarily, she realized her mistake when the petite waitress reappeared looking her usual friendly self.
Misunderstood: In Love with the Nerd (The Miss Series Book 2) Page 6