by Logan Chance
“Have you tried calling him?”
I shot her a look, with a raised brow. “What do you think?”
“I’m sure he’ll call. You two haven’t been dating long. He probably needs a good ass-kicking to get his head on straight.” She laughed but I didn’t find her words very funny.
It bugged me he hadn’t called—who doesn’t have time to call their girlfriend? Although I didn’t really feel much like a girlfriend anymore.
“What does Richie think about the place getting bought out?” She rose from the bed and smoothed the wrinkles out of the skirt of her pink sundress.
“Oh, you know Richie, he only thinks about retiring.” I stuffed my gloss and phone into my red stylish purse. “I hope he does as he promised before he leaves.”
“About putting in a good word for you for bar manager?” Margo’s baby blue eyes grew curious as she waited for my answer.
“Yeah. I should get going or I’ll be late. Have fun at the gym.” I grabbed my keys and headed for the door as Margo called my name.
“Penny, don’t worry about Dex. I can see how much he likes you. I’m sure he’ll call, maybe he’s really busy,” she said.
I sighed and threw my bag over my shoulder. I knew he was busy. I knew he had important meetings. Working for a land developer left him little time for phone calls to his girlfriend, I guessed.
“Before you go, do you think I should wear the pink yoga pants or the black? Which ones make my ass look hotter?”
I shook my head, laughing.
“Pink,” I yelled over my shoulder as I rushed down the hallway.
The breeze off the ocean only helped ward off the heat a little. I hoped the first thing this new owner would do is put in large oscillating fans. They would fit nicely in the large space between the top of the tiki roof and the bar.
In my off time I priced the fans and knew they would be cheap and easy to install, so I hoped he would be open for suggestions.
The traffic on the way to work was heavy. Of course it was. It figured on the day I’d meet the new boss everyone in Miami would decide to take the same route as me. I glanced down at the built-in clock to check to see if I would be late. “Go,’’ I mumbled to the car in front of me.
I rushed through a yellow light at the moment it turned red.
Flashing blue and red lights followed me through the intersection and I silently cursed myself. Shit.
Being late to meet the new boss wasn’t something I wanted. How bad would it look going in there and saying, ‘Hi, nice to meet you. Sorry I’m late. Can we get big fans? I’m hot.’
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I watched as the big, burly officer approached my driver’s side window. I lowered it and grabbed my purse, pulling out my license.
“Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?”
I sat there quiet for a moment, thinking. This felt like a test. I chewed my lip debating on whether to lie. Should I try the waterworks to get out of a ticket? Should I lower my tank and show him my cleavage? With his pinched face, he didn’t look like he would appreciate my assets.
I decided on honesty. “Yes, sir.”
“License and registration.”
I nodded and gave him a tight smile before I handed over the paperwork. “Would you mind if I called my work to let them know I’m running late?”
The cop nodded and I dialed the number.
“Fiona, it’s Penny. I got pulled over by a cop. I might be a few minutes late.” With the pace of how slow the cop moved it appeared I would be later than a minute or two. More like half an hour at his snail’s pace.
Hurry up please.
“Ok, get here as soon as possible. Mr. Sullivan is already here. And you’ll never believe it, Richie quit. Said he didn’t want to work for a new owner.”
Great, just what I wanted to hear. I hung up, tossing my phone in my handbag as the cop ran my license.
My mind reeled with news of Richie, who would manage the bar now? I wanted to.
I tapped the steering wheel hoping the movement would hurry him along. It didn’t. I blew my wispy bangs from my eyes as I tapped my foot in rhythm to my hyper fingers.
My body heated as the warm air drifted into the lowered window of my little red Jetta causing a tiny bead of sweat to trickle down between my breasts.
My eyes drifted to the clock again. The Bearded Goat would be opening in twenty minutes. I ran a mental checklist through my mind as I thought of the quickest way to handle the workload.
After what seemed like hours, Officer Snail finally returned my paperwork and sent me on my way with a ticket for running the red light. Asshole.
Getting to work ten minutes before opening didn’t leave me much time and it certainly didn’t give off the best first impression I hoped for. Ever since I heard about the buyout and new owner, I was upset—with myself mostly. Mainly because I planned on speaking to Richie about giving me more responsibilities at the bar. At Nectar I was head bartender, and even sometimes a shift leader, taking care of inventory and scheduling. I was more than qualified and knew all the regulars by name. The Bearded Goat needed an overhaul, and I knew what to do to turn it into the money maker it should be. Just because I was new at this bar didn’t mean I was new to the industry. I knew my fucking shit.
Instead of speaking to Richie, I chickened out while waiting for the ideal moment, which was like waiting for rain in a desert. Funny thing, there never was a perfect time and if you waited for it, then you’d be left waiting an eternity. My whole life I waited for the perfect moment, you know, the one where your whole life falls into place. I wanted more than anything to be a success without my father’s help, but all I ever had was a lifetime of regrets, it seemed. Talking to Richie should have been easy, but instead I let it slip away. Now, with a new owner, who apparently knew nothing of the industry, according to the rumor mill, I worried I wouldn’t get the opportunity again.
When I finally got to work, I ran to the heavy wooden door of the Bearded Goat and swung it open. The coast was clear except for a few cocktail servers setting up the seating area along the back deck. Making haste, I threw my bag behind the bar and assessed exactly what needed to be done before opening.
Everything.
Hustling my ass from front of the house to back of the house, I set everything up as the first customers entered through the doors. My bangs stuck to my forehead from the early morning humidity in the air, and a few soft waves escaped my ponytail.
“Penny, check the Heineken tap, it was running low yesterday,” Seth said from across the bar before heading back into the kitchen.
Behind the bar, I pulled on the brass handle of the spigot. Foam overflowed and I quickly slammed it off. The Goat offered thirty beers on tap, so when a keg went empty I became a pro at changing them in a second.
Cold air blew in a rush over me when I entered the cooler and found the new Heineken keg wasn’t where it should be. As I tried rolling it over to the spigot, I realized it was pointless, it wouldn’t even budge. Determined, I nearly threw my back out as I tried again, grunting slightly as I made little progress.
As I bent over trying to finagle the keg, a shadow blocked the bright light from the kitchen shining into the dimly lit space.
I glanced over my shoulder, not really noticing who walked in, only noticing how the door was quickly closing behind him. “Hey,” I called out, “don’t let the door…” The door slammed, locking us both inside. “shut,” my voice trailed off.
“What?” the stranger asked, turning to face me, but I was already racing toward the door.
“The door is locked now, genius.” I brushed past his tall frame and jiggled the handle. I dropped my forehead to the cold metal and let out a sigh.
“Well, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Really?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder up at him. If looks could kill, he’d be dead.
His gaze met mine for the first time since our predicament and a shiver coursed through me. I didn’t
know if it was from the cold of the cooler, or his eyes. His eyes.
I’d seen those before, deep and dark, holding mine months ago as he owned my body in the moonlight.
It was him. Theo from the beach.
Oh God. Theo.
The Lord of my O’s.
“You should have a sign or something on the wall about the door locking. Why didn’t you tell me when I came in?” His deep voice brought me back from my memories and it took a moment to register his question. “Are you going to answer me?”
My eyes met his harsh stare and it dawned on me. The Lord of my O’s didn’t recognize me.
3. Theo
Whoa, who the fuck is she?
Normally being locked in a cooler with a girl would be a good excuse for a chance to fuck. But, I was the boss now. I couldn’t screw my employees. Even if they were as hot as her. Hell, this little vixen with the copper eyes and cute, petite figure would certainly find her way into my personal spank bank. But, that’s as far as she’d ever get with me.
Who made a door which locked from the inside, anyways? Dumbest thing I ever heard.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at me. She looked like she saw a ghost. What the fuck was she thinking? And why did I care?
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Finding my employees irresistible wasn’t what I should be focusing on.
Getting the fuck out of here as quickly as possible before my cock got rock solid is what I should I be focused on.
This girl was trouble. I already knew it.
Turning to face me, she rested her back against the cooler door. “I did tell you.” Crossing her arms, she slanted her head at me, waiting. “Besides, who doesn’t know to leave the door open?”
Unbelievable. I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, looking down at her. “Are you blaming me?” I asked, drawing my brows together. “This isn’t my fault. There should be a sign or something.”
She laughed. “A sign? What bar uses a sign? It’s common knowledge.”
“Common knowledge? Says who? You?” Was this girl for real? What if we got locked in here during a busy Saturday night? She was a bit sassy, and it was really getting on my nerves.
“No, not me,” she said, pushing off of the door, “Anyone who ever worked a day in a bar knows.”
My jaw ticked as I narrowed my eyes, was I that obvious? Sure, I’d never worked in a bar before, but come on, how hard could it be? “I’m sure other bars have a sign, or some other way to know the door locks. What kind of company makes a cooler that locks from the inside? It’s stupid,” I said.
“All companies. I guess they want to trap people inside for the hell of it.”
“Yeah well, I’m making a call.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
I held the phone in the air watching the bars disappear. Fuck, no signal.
“What’s wrong, hotshot?”
I closed my eyes briefly, lifting my chin toward the ceiling before finally glancing back at her. “I have no service.”
“I could have told you that,” she said as she brushed past me.
“Well, if you’re so smart, how do we get out of here?” I asked, turning to face her, watching as she plunked her curvy ass down on a keg, her tits bouncing as she sat. The tank she wore had a huge caricature of a bearded goat drinking a beer and I cracked a smile as I glared at it. The way the shirt was designed made her nipple look like it was in his open mouth, it was bizarre.
“We wait for someone to open the door.” She ran her hands briskly up and down her arms.
“What if no one comes?” I taunted.
Her eyes widened in mock horror. “Well, I guess we freeze to death.” She smiled and all I could think was, oh fuck she’s pretty.
“Funny,” I said, sliding my phone back in my pocket. “What’s your name?” The white cotton of my shirt pulled tightly across my arms.
“Penny. Let me guess, you must be the new owner. The hotshot real estate guy?”
“Hot shot?” I grazed my teeth along my lower lip before releasing it. “That’s the second time you’ve called me hotshot. You also called me genius. So, I guess you can call me hotshot genius if you like, or Theo Sullivan.” I closed the distance between us and leaned in. I needed to remind myself more than her nothing would ever happen between us. “Your boss.”
4. Penny
The Lord of My O’s was my new boss?
My body froze, and my jaw dropped as his stern stare held me captive. His hair, once neat and close cut, was now an ink-black, tousled mess on top of his head. And those lips, framed by a close-cut beard, which grazed along my shoulder as he used them to trace over me, were currently frowning at me. Memories of our chance encounter flooded my mind as I remembered his strong, muscled arms holding me close. Silently, I seethed. Was I unmemorable? Maybe I should tell him. My make-up must have been really caked on, and the wig must have done the trick, because this guy had no clue who I was. And now I worked for him. My hands stilled on my arms. Realization set in; my boss. What were the chances he would keep me around after he knew who I was? I couldn’t imagine he would feel comfortable working with me everyday after the intimacy we shared. This was bad, I didn’t want him to recognize me now. I couldn’t lose this job. He gazed over my hardened nipples from the chill of the cooler. I crossed my arms over my chest, paranoid he would know my tits were from the night we shared. His eyes shot back up to mine, and I waited for recognition to light his thick-lashed, dark eyes. It didn’t. A tinge of hurt crept in. I understood he didn’t recognize who I was, but knowing his charming act I fell for was one he’d probably rehearsed and played out many times before stung. What a player.
I stood abruptly and he retreated from my space.
“Since we’re stuck in here, would you mind helping me lift the keg so I can change the tap spigot?”
“Ok, sure. Since we have a little free time. I didn’t think I’d be working hard on my first day, though,” he said.
“What’s wrong, afraid of a little hard work?”
He walked closer, towering over me. The way he gazed down on me made my body erupt with goosebumps, more so than the air of the cooler. My traitorous body pulsed and thrummed deep inside and my legs shook slightly. I noticed a tiny faint scar slashing through the edge of his left dark brow. Oh shit, he’s so good looking. How could I get through this every day?
“I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life. Where’s the keg?” he asked with a slight bit of teasing in his voice.
“There,” I pointed, motioning toward the Heineken keg I attempted to move earlier.
He grabbed the keg, moving it over with little effort and brought it closer to the coupler.
His warm hand brushed against mine as we tried to get the spigot hooked up, and I didn’t want to be touching him. Touching would lead to remembering. Deflated, I made a decision to never tell him about our one night on the beach, which obviously meant more to me than him. I quickly backed away, sliding my hand into the pocket of my shorts. A few moments later the door swung open.
Theo stalked out, not even taking a second glance my way.
What the hell? New owner. Fuck my life.
“Penny,” Theo called from behind me. “Come join us on the patio.”
A few of the employees gathered at a table on the deck as Theo instructed. I made my way over and took a seat next to Fiona.
“What’s this?” I whispered next to her ear.
“Not sure.” She shrugged her tanned shoulders. “He wanted to talk to all of us.”
“I’m glad I could get a few of you together.” Our attention turned to Theo as he spoke. “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Theo Sullivan, the new owner.” His hands grasped an empty wicker chair in front of him, and I fidgeted in my seat remembering the way they trailed over my body. “I know it’s a big shock to everyone about Richard quitting this morning. It’s definitely something I wasn’t expecting, but let’s move forward. Until he’s replaced, I’ll be filling in fo
r him.”
My brow furrowed and we all glanced around at each other. Maybe it was shock, maybe we were curious, either way, we were riveted.
“Any questions?” he asked.
No one spoke.
He smiled and my stomach did a little flip at the boyish grin. “Ok, good. Now let’s get back to work. If anyone knows of anyone looking for a management job,” he laughed, slightly, “send them my way.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair as we all slowly rose from our seats.
This was my moment, my opening to take the leap. I wanted the management job and I was determined to get it. I stepped away from the chair, eyes trained on Theo and took a deep breath.
Nerves churned in my stomach, of course, but I hid them with the biggest smile I could muster in the moment. “Hello, again, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Hi, Penny, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“I was wondering about the management job. I’d like to apply.”
He raked his eyes over my clothes, and I felt underdressed. With his grey dress slacks, and white button down, I felt I should be wearing a pencil skirt and silk blouse to apply. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I’m kind of looking for someone different.” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, tugging his tie loose. “Man, it’s hot.”
My disbelieving eyes grew at the audacity he would discount me so easily. He didn’t even give me an opportunity to list my qualifications.
I squared my shoulders and raised my chin. “Well, Richie said he thought I’d be a good fit for management.”
“Penny, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” I saw a seagull land off the back deck as my eyes returned to Theo and I kind of hoped it would shit on his head.
“You were late today, are you always late to work?”
Damn. I gazed at him with what I hoped was a doe-eyed expression as I tried to figure out what to say.
This wasn’t going at all as planned, but I tried to make the best of the situation. Always the optimist, or so I pretended. “No sir, I’m never late. Most days I’m early. I work hard, and I’m always the first person called when they need a shift covered. But today I was pulled over.”