Thanks for the reviews! I read them all and I'm glad you all are liking this story. I'm sorry about the first person narrative. I wrote the first three chapters already, if it really bothers people, I will change it to the third person narrative around chapter 4. Anyway, Here is chapter 2. I hope you enjoy!
MERCEDES
"Ohmigod! You can't be serious!" Rachel mumbles around a mouthful of wedding cake.
I want to laugh at the crumbs flying from between her lips. Coming with her to a cake tasting has been the most fun, second only to heading up the bachelorette party.
"I wish I were joking, but I'm not. It was horrible!" I feel my face flush in remembered embarrassment just from retelling what had happened with Cam.
"Well, at least it was the brother and not the one you practically molested." I slap Rachel's arm.
"I did not practically molest him!"
"No, but you wanted to."
"I most certainly—"
"Don't even lie to me, you wench! I know you too well. He had that whole bad-boy thing going on. I'm surprised you didn't wrap your legs and your lips and everything else around him right then and there."
"God, Rachel, you make me sound like some sort of floozy."
"Floozy? Really?" She eyes me skeptically. We both giggle. Mine turns into full-blown laughter when I see the red icing stuck to Rachel's teeth.
"Shut up. It's a Tracey word," I explain, referring to my mother.
She was Miss Prim and Proper. Words like whore and slut were not even in her vocabulary. Apparently divorce and abandonment were, though.
"Don't even get me started on her. I have no problem cutting a bitch"
"You know , that's actually kinda scary when you say it now. Your teeth look like you just ate someone's liver." The red food coloring looks like blood in her mouth.
"I did. And it was delicious with a nice Chianti and some fava beans," she says in her best Hannibal Lecter voice, making a strange sucking noise afterward. We both start laughing , drawing the disapproving eye of the swanky shop's attendant.
"You better shut up. I'm pretty sure it's bad luck to get kicked out of a wedding cake shop a month before your wedding." Rachel smiles demurely at the attendant, her lips barely moving as she speaks to me.
"If you had a piece of coal, we could hold her down, shove it up her ass, and come collect a big fat diamond in a few days."
"I'm pretty sure it takes longer than a few days for coal to turn into a diamond, Rachel."
"Not in that tight ass, it wouldn't." Casting the stern-faced lady a sidelong glance, I change my mind.
"You could be right."
"So, while we've got all this sugary brain food circulating through our blood, let's formulate a plan for you to steal Cam from Marissa. I'm pretty sure it would be the best wedding present ever to see the look on that self-righteous bitch's face."
"What? Are you crazy? I'm not stealing anyone from anybody!"
"And why not? This guy sounds like everything you've ever wanted." I sigh.
"I know."
And Cam does. He's incredibly handsome, charming, obviously intelligent, successful, grounded, and responsible— everything my mother had drummed into me since childhood. Everything she thought my father wasn't. And he's not a bad boy, which is the best thing about him. I may not agree with my mother about much, but I know she's right about what kind of guy to set my sights on. I've proven her right time after time after time. Maybe someone like Cam could help the facts get through to my wayward heart. So far, it seems like I'm destined to fall for the wrong guy.
"So then, what's the problem? Go get him."
"It's not that simple . For one thing, I'm not that kind of person." Rachel drops her fork and looks angrily at me.
"And what kind is that, exactly? The kind that goes after what she wants? The kind that makes life happen for her? The kind that does everything she can to find happiness? Oh, no. You're not that kind at all. You're the martyr. You're the one who's gonna let life pass her by because she won't take risks anymore."
"Wanting to get a degree that I can use to help my father does not make me a martyr."
"No, but giving up on every other area of your life so you can move back does."
"He's already had one woman in his life abandon him. I refuse to be the second." I can'tkeep the sharp edge from my voice. She's stirring up my temper.
"Living your life is not abandonment, Merce."
"That's exactly what she said."
To this, Rachel says nothing. Taking all my core accounting classes up front in my first two years of college was a stroke of genius as far as I'm concerned. But even with a light schedule of easy classes, I'm still tired today for some reason. It's Friday evening and the weekend is just beginning. And it sucks already. I'd like to think its just dread of going home to work all weekend, but I know it's a little more than that. It's that stupid conversation I had with Rachel at the cake tasting. This guy sounds like everything you've ever wanted. I sigh. That's becoming clearer with each passing day. Cam has visited Marissa every single night this week. The more I hear him talk and see him laugh and observe how he acts, the more I wish I were the kind of person who ruthlessly went after what I wanted. But I'm not. Marissa has the monopoly on that. Well, Marissa and my mother. If I ever become a thief, Cam will be the first thing I steal. I can hear his deep voice as he talks to Marissa. No doubt they have exciting plans for the night. Their jet-set lives are the stuff fairy tales are made of. Unfortunately, my life has been anything but a fairy tale. With a resolute jerk that makes my eyes water, I tighten my ponytail.
I eye myself in the mirror. Marissa's work uniform is a thousand-dollar suit and Jimmy Choo shoes. Mine is black shorts and a black tee that says Get a little at Tad's. A girl like me will never have a life like that. I'm glad when I hear the front door shut. At least now I don't have to pass the dynamic duo on my way out. It's already a shitty weekend and it's only just begun. Seeing them drool all over each other is the last thing I need. I give them a couple of minutes' lead before I grab my purse and keys, sling my overnight bag onto my shoulder, and head for the door. I'm thinking to myself that I should've used the bathroom before I left when I look up and see Cam sitting in his sleek black car, talking on the phone. Not watching where I'm going, I forget to step off the curb and end up falling off it instead. I probably would've been able to keep my balance had I not been loaded down with my stuffed overnight bag. Once it got going in the wrong direction, there was no stopping either of us. I fall ass over teacup into the parking lot. In my head, I envision myself as a comical cartwheel of flailing arms and legs. Yep, I'm making a fool of myself. Again. Right in front of Cam. Is there no end to my embarrassment with this guy? I'm thinking that as I try to right myself as quickly as possible. Before I can get untangled from my purse and duffel straps, however, strong hands are gripping my arms and hauling me to my feet. I'm face to face with Cam. His dark-chocolate eyes are full of concern and he smells lightly of expensive cologne, something musky. Dark. Sexy.
"Are you all right?" I'm discombobulated.
"I'm just glad I didn't pee all over myself," I blurt.
I see his mouth drop open a tiny bit and I feel my cheeks go up in flames. Oh sweet Lord, what did I just say? And then he laughs. His perfect mouth spreads into a wide smile, revealing equally perfect teeth. His face is transformed from gorgeous into just plain breathtaking. And the sound— it's rich and rumbly and slides over my skin like satin. I know I'm staring, but I can't seem to keep my eyes off the lips that are so close. They look so much like his brother's. So delicious. So forbidden. And, despite all the reasons I shouldn't, I want him to kiss me just as badly. What the hell is wrong with me?
"I am, too." My brain is utterly scrambled.
"What?" I ask, dazed and confused.
"I am, too," he repeats.
"You are too what?"
"I'm glad you didn't pee all over yourself, too." Oh yeah.
That. Apparently, it's the rule of the universe that I make an ass of myself at every possible opportunity with this guy. And his brother, too! Stepping away from him so I can think, I smile sheepishly and shake my head.
"Oh, God! Sorry about that. I, uh, I was just thinking that I should've used the bathroom before I left. I had lots of water today." I laugh uneasily. He continues to watch me in amusement. It's horrifying.
"Where are you headed?"
"To work."
"Ah. And where's that?" he asks, pushing his hands into his pockets like he's settling in for a long conversation.
"Um, Tad's Bar and Grill in Salt Springs."
"Salt Springs?" He frowns. "That's, what, just over an hour from here?"
"Yep, which is why I need to get going." I have to get away from him before something more embarrassing happens. Like I reach out and touch the rounded pecs that I can just make out beneath his expensive dress shirt.
"Right. Well, drive carefully."
With a nod and a polite smile, he turns and walks back to the car that's purring quietly a few feet away. I all but run to my beat -up Honda Civic. It has never looked more welcoming. Or more like an escape pod. I hop in and slam the door, exhaling in relief. But then, much to my chagrin, I turn the key and hear only a sluggish whine. The engine won't start. I look at the gas gauge. Half full. It's not an empty tank. I look at the dashboard lights. They're nice and bright. It's not a dead battery. Beyond that, I have no idea what to check. I'm sitting helplessly behind the wheel, wondering what the hell I'm going to do, when I see Cam cross in front of my car and approach my window. I roll it down. I try to smile when I feel like crying instead.
"Car won't start?" he asks.
"Nope."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"I have no clue. I have ovaries; therefore, I repel all things mechanical." He chuckles.
"The put -gas-in-it-and-get-the-oil-changed-and-that's-it type, huh?"
"Pretty much."
"Let's take a look. Can you pop the hood?" he asks, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.
Good Lord, he even has sexy forearms! I look down and to my left. I see the little symbol for the hood. I'm thankful I at least know where that is. I pull the lever. I don't know whether I should get out or stay put. For self-preservation purposes, I go with staying put. Remaining in the car, far from Cam, exponentially decreases the likelihood of me doing or saying something stupid. That's always a good thing. Through the crack where the hood hinges, I can see Cam fiddle with several things, tugging hoses and wires and tightening something down. Then I see him brush his hands off and close the hood. He walks back to the window.
"I don't see anything obviously wrong , but I'm no mechanic. Looks like this car's not going anywhere for a while. Do you want me to call a tow truck?" I can't help the deep sigh of frustration.
"No, that's okay. I can call one after I call in to work."
"Are you sure?" I muster the brightest smile I can, which isn't very bright at all, I'm sure.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks, though."
"Do you want me to wait with you?" My laugh is bitter.
"That's okay. I'd rather get chewed out in private, if you don't mind." His brow wrinkles.
"Are you going to be in trouble?" I wave my hand dismissively.
"Ah, no more than usual." He nods and starts to walk away but pauses. I see him glance at his watch, then look up. It's obvious the wheels of his mind are turning.
"Why don't you let me drive you to work?"
"Absolutely not! You've got plans with Marissa and it's way out of your way. Salt Springs is way out of everyone's way."
"We were just going to hang out with some coworkers. I can be a little late. It's not a big deal."
"Well, it is to me. I'll be fine. I appreciate the offer, but I'm gonna have to decline."
"Decline?" he says, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "What if I insist?"
"Insist all you like. My answer won't change."
Cam narrows his eyes at me, and his lips curve up at the corners. He walks slowly to my window and bends down, resting his forearms along the open space. His face is inches from mine.
"I could always make you."
The way he says it sounds dark and dirty and infinitely pleasurable. All I can think of is what I'd like for him to make me do. There's an unsavory term for that— a guy forcing a girl to do sexual things. But what is it they say? You can't rape the willing. And I'd be willing. Oh, how I'd be willing. My mouth is so dry, my tongue sticks to the roof. All I can do is shake my head. Like a flash of lightning, Cam reaches in and snatches the keys from the ignition. His smile is smug when he stands and walks around to the passenger side. He opens the door and collects my overnight bag and my purse from the seat. Before he shuts the door, he says,
"It's either come with me or sleep in your car that won't start. Your choice."
With that, he slams the door shut and walks casually away, toting my stuff to his car and dropping it into the backseat. He leans against the driver's door and crosses his arms over his chest to watch me. The challenge is clear. I'm just stubborn enough that if I really didn't want to go with him, I would find a way around him. But therein lies the rub. I do want to go with him. Just to spend a little more time with him, without Marissa around, sounds like heaven. I mean, it's not like I have any plans to try to steal him. Or that I even could. Marissa is the total package. She's a whiny bitch, but still, she's gorgeous, wealthy, and successful, and she has hella good connections in the Atlanta world of law. Then there's me. I'm an accounting-student-slash-bartender-slash-farmer's-daughter. Yeah, stealing Cam isn't an option, even if I were the type to attempt it. Fortunately, that makes a car ride with him even more harmless. After rolling up the window, I climb out of the car and lock the door before heading for the plush, cool interior of Cam's BMW. I say nothing about the satisfied smile he's wearing when he slides in beside me. It's better if he thinks he won.
"Now, was that so hard?" I try to keep my smile slightly on the tolerant side, squashing my exuberance.
"I guess not. You drive a hard bargain."
"So I've been told."
"I'm sure you have," I mutter. When Cam's head whips in my direction, I smile innocently.
"What?" He looks suspicious.
"I thought you said something."
"Nope. Not me." I smother my grin as he backs out of the lot.
CAM
I watch Mercedes from the corner of my eye as I steer the car toward the interstate. I know I'm asking for trouble, going to such lengths to spend a little more time with this girl. It's not that I wouldn't help any female stranded in a similar situation. But would I go this far? Probably not. And would I insist on it? Definitely not. Why couldn't you just wait with her until a tow truck showed up and then leave? I don't know the answer to that, but it seems like there's just something about her… She's great looking, no doubt, even though she's not necessarily my type. She's the complete opposite of Marissa in practically every way, physical and otherwise. And, even though Marissa fits everything in my life to perfection, I don't feel drawn to her like I do this girl. And that's not good. And I know it. Yet here I am. Driving her halfway across the state to drop her off at work. While my girlfriend is waiting for me. As I accelerate up the entrance ramp, I turn to Mercedes.
"Do you mind if I let Marissa know?" She smiles and shakes her head. I click a couple of buttons on the console to turn off the Bluetooth. I don't want Mercedes to hear my conversation with Marissa.
"Where are you?" Marissa asks as she answers the phone.
"Mercedes's car wouldn't start. I'm taking her to work and then I'll be there."
"Mercedes? My cousin, Mercedes?"
"Of course. Who else?"
"And you're taking her all the way to work? In Salt Springs?"
"Yes."
Silence greets me. I know what Marissa is like to others. I'm fully aware of the comments and the tantrum she's suppressing for my benefit. She's very good at maintaining her carefully forged façade. She knows our relationship would cease to be if she didn't. For that reason, she doesn't speak until she has her temper under control.
"That's awfully nice of you to do that for her. Just know that I don't expect it. She's related to me, but I would never ask you to go out of your way like this."
"I know you wouldn't. I don't mind. Really." Another pause.
"All right . I guess I'll see you in a couple hours, then."
"See you soon." When I lay my phone in the cup holder, I see Mercedes watching me. "Something wrong?"
"I was wondering the same thing. Is she mad?"
"No. Why would she be mad?"
"Do you even know who you're dating?" I can't help but laugh.
"She's not all bad. She was fine with it."
"Hmmm."
"Obviously there's no love lost between you two. So why are you living with her?" I glance at Mercedes and I see her face crumble.
"I sound like an ungrateful witch, don't I? And she is your girlfriend. I'm so sorry!" Damn, I've made her feel bad.
"Please don't apologize. It wasn't my intention to make you feel bad. I was just curious how it all came about."
"Marissa didn't tell you?"
"No. She doesn't talk much about it."
"Figures," she murmurs. I act like I don't hear her. But it makes me want to smile.
"Well, the roommate I've had for the last two years up and followed her boyfriend to Colorado without telling me. It was time to renew the lease and I didn't have the money to continue it on my own, so I had to make other arrangements. My best friend offered me her couch, but she's getting married next month, so that's just not gonna happen. That left me with the dorms. Until Marissa's father offered to let me stay with her. He isn't charging me as much as I'd have to pay for room and board at school, which is great because that would've been a huge problem for me. I'm on a pretty tight budget, even though Tad pays me really well to bartend." She looks to me, and I nod in understanding. "It doesn't sound like it, but I really am grateful. I've just had a rough week."
"So you bartend?"
"Yep."
"Can I ask why you drive so far when there are probably dozens of bars in the city that would hire you?"
"Tad pays better than any of the places I've checked. He has a lot of girls that call in for their weekend shifts, so he pays me extra to work every weekend. I've worked there for two years and I've known him half my life. He knows I'll always show up."
"I guess it's a good thing I forced you into letting me bring you, then." She grins at me. It's a cute, sexy little grin.
"I guess I owe you one."
"I'm sure I can think of something you can do to pay me back."
Dude, now you're flirting? Even to my own ears, my comment sounds suggestive. The sad thing is, it was meant that way. There are literally a dozen things I'd love for her to do for me. Or to me. Or let me do to her. Her grin widens into a smile.
"Just let me know when you think of something, then." Great! Now she's flirting back! I should mind. I should be opposed to it. But I'm not. Far from it! I need to change the subject.
"So, I don't know how much my brother pays, but I'm sure he's very competitive. Why don't I talk to Sam about you? He might have an opening." I see panic on her face.
"No!"
"O-kay," I say, a little shocked by her reaction. "May I ask why not?" She sighs and leans her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes.
"It's kind of a long and very embarrassing story."
"Does it have something to do with you taking his clothes off?" Her head jerks up and she turns wide eyes on me.
"Did he say something about it?"
"No, you mentioned it that first morning, remember?" Her expression calms.
"Oh yeah. That's right."
"So just because of one little incident like that, you'd refuse a job offer that would keep you closer to home and probably put more money in your pocket?"
"Well, the more-money-in-my-pocket thing remains to be seen. You don't know how much he pays."
"I can almost guarantee it would be enough to make it worth your while. His club is pretty big."
"Hmmm," she answers again.
"You should at least think about it. Unless you want me to force you again. I could carry you in there, you know." She looks over at me and smiles. And I want nothing more than to pull over and drag her into my lap. "On second thought, maybe I'd rather you make me force you." What the hell are you doing, man? She picks her head up off the headrest, then cocks it to one side.
"Are you flirting with me?" I shrug. She's very direct. I like that.
"Would you mind if I were?"
"Marissa is my cousin, you know."
"But you can barely stand her."
"That's not the point. I'm not that girl." I look at her. And I don't doubt her for one second. She might think Marissa's a cold bitch, but she would never purposely do anything to hurt her.
"Believe it or not, I know you're not. I'm a pretty good judge of character and I have no doubts you're not that girl." Her brow wrinkles.
"Then why are you flirting with me?" She's serious. She's not smiling or teasing, but she's not judging me, either. She's just curious. I'm fascinated and, for one second, completely honest with her.
"I can't seem to help myself."
MERCEDES
How in the world did I let him talk me into this? I'm standing in front of the main door of Dual. I look long and hard at the sign. I have to smile. Dual. Double. Two. Twins. It appears Sam is cheeky in every aspect of his life. And clever. Dammit. It's broad daylight and the parking lot is empty. I'm having serious reservations about what I'm getting ready to do. Cam has pestered me about letting him get me a job at the club since Sunday night when my dad dropped me back at the condo. Cam offered to bring me by and officially introduce me to his brother. Stubborn idiot that I am, I refused to even consider the job. But now that the weekend approaches and I'm dreading going all the way back to Salt Springs to work at Tad's, I'm feeling more optimistic about working for Sam.
Unfortunately, Cam had to go out of town again, so now I'm stuck going in alone. And I'm having second thoughts. Especially since the reason I'm most anxious to stick around town on the weekends is to see more of Cam, who is strictly off limits. You're such a dumbass! Talk about flirting with disaster! I sigh and shift my weight from foot to foot, debating what to do. I look longingly back at my car, the car that Cam had a mechanic come look at and fix before I even got back home on Sunday . Turns out it was something simple with a spark plug, I think he said. But still… He had it fixed. I sigh. It's the possibility of seeing more of Cam, of him casually dropping by to check on me, that pushes me in the direction of the door. I open it and walk into the dark interior.
Even in the middle of the day, very little light shines in through the small, high windows. The bar looks totally different without the wild lights and the wall-to-wall crush of bodies . The high tables are clean and empty, the black floors are polished to a shine, there is some kind of instrumental music pouring softly from the speakers, and the only illumination in the whole room is the backlit liquor display cases behind the bar. Cam said Sam would be here all day, but I'm beginning to think I should've had him set a specific time. I have no idea where to look for him. My flip -flops make a hushed flapping sound against my heels as I make my way across the room. I walk to the bar and pull out a stool to sit on, hoping Sam is keeping an eye on the place since the door was open. I nearly swallow my tongue when Sam pops up from behind the bar.
"You must be Mercedes."
"Holy mother of hell!" I say, grabbing my chest to still my racing heart. He laughs.
"With a mouth like that, you'll fit right in here." If I weren't so surprised, I'd probably take exception to that comment. Instead, I laugh.
"You bring out the worst in me. What can I say?"
Sam is wearing a black tank top that perfectly showcases his muscular arms and the interesting tattoo that peeks out on the left side of his chest. I try not to think of him as mouthwatering, but that's the word that keeps going through my head. Dammit! He puts his elbows on the bar and leans in closer to me.
"That's because you haven't given me the chance to bring out the best in you."
His voice is deep and quiet. His brow is arched, much like it was that first night— in a suggestively challenging way. I feel my pulse pick up. Good God, he's even hotter than I remember! Somehow, I'd managed to convince myself that he wasn't as appealing as Cam, that because he's the bad boy of the two, he's less attractive. Sweet Lord, was I wrong! I try desperately to hang on to my brain and make a better impression this time. I know I'll only get this one chance to redeem myself. I smile politely and respond.
"Well, that won't be a problem if I start working for you, right?" He leans back and smiles crookedly.
"Already threatening a sexual harassment suit?"
"No, I… of course not! I… I didn't mean… what I actually meant was…" In my head, I hear the sound of an airplane falling from the sky at terminal velocity, then crashing into the side of a mountain with a loud explosion.
"Don't back down now! This was just getting interesting." I exhale. I'm both relieved and a little irritated. He's teasing me!
"Are you always this evil?"
"Evil?" he asks, his expression innocent. "Me? Nooooo."
With a grin, he plants his hands flat on the bar and lifts himself onto it, throwing his legs over and hopping down right beside me. I actually squeeze my eyes shut for a second in hopes that the vision of his biceps and triceps straining against his smooth skin won't be permanently etched onto my mind. I think I'm too late, though, because it's all I can see on the backdrop of my lids.
"Cam says you bartend, right?"
My eyes open to his. He's staring down at me. Those eyes are amazing! I see his eyebrows rise, prompting me.
"Pardon?" I ask.
"Nothing. I don't even think it matters. If you're this adorably sexy all the time, no one will care how fast you get them their drinks." I flush a little at his words. They shouldn't please me. But they do. Quite a bit.
"That won't be a problem."
"What? You being adorably sexy? No, I can see that."
"That's not what I meant. I've been working at one of the busiest sports clubs in Salt Springs for the last two years. I can hold my own behind your bar." He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks at me.
"You think so?" I feel my spine straightening.
"I know so."
"The people that come here want to be served as well as entertained. Think you can handle that, too?" I'm thinking to myself that I don't even know what that means, but my mouth has already moved on.
"Not a problem."
"So then you won't mind giving me an…audition." His pause gives me a little chill that races down my spine. I clear my throat and reach deep for my bravado.
"Audition? What did you have in mind?"
He doesn't answer for a few seconds. Long enough to make me squirm. Long enough for me to think of all sorts of different types of auditions, a couple of which excite me. Get your mind out of the gutter, Merce! He's off limits! He laughs. "
Nothing too creative. I don't want to push my luck with the sexual harassment thing. Yet."
"Are you trying to run me off?"
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you've never worked for someone who's attracted to you. I bet that happens to a girl like you all the time."
I resist the ridiculous grin that's tugging at my lips. I can't let him see that I'm pleased to hear him admit to being attracted to me, especially when pleased is code for I can barely breathe, I'm so excited.
"A girl like me?" I ask in my calmest manner.
"Yeah, a girl like you." Sam's lids drop down partway over his eyes, making them look like heavy, bedroom eyes, and his voice is like the silk sheets I can imagine him sleeping on. "Feisty, sexy, gorgeous as hell. I bet you've never met a man you couldn't wind around your little finger."
He's watching me like he wants to undress me right where we are— in an empty bar with low light and soft music. And there's a tiny part of me that would love for him to do exactly that. I snort!
"Not hardly."
"Yeah, you say that, but I'd bet you could have your way with any guy you want." He cocks his head to one side as he considers me. I get the feeling he's weighing me, assessing me. "But maybe you just don't know it."
"I… I… I don't know what you mean," I say, hating that my voice sounds so breathless. I don't want Sam to know he affects me at all.
"Hmmm," is all he says.
After several more seconds of trying to figure me out, Sam smiles. It's a polite smile that says he's back to business. Well, at least as much as he has been thus far.
"So, audition it is. Can you come for a shift tomorrow night?" I hate to call in at Tad's, but I don't want to quit until I know I have a job here, either. So it's either call in at Tad's or blow off this audition. I don't have much choice.
"Sure. What time should I be here?"
"Seven. That way Taryn can show you the setup before the doors open at nine."
"Sounds good ," I say, nodding. Silence stretches between us and I'm at a loss. "Well, I guess I'd better let you get back to your work"
"Aren't you going to ask about money? Cam said that was kind of a thing."
I'm so bedazzled I forgot to even ask about the pay! I feel my cheeks get hot. I pray it's too dark for him to notice, and that if he does, he chalks it up to my discomfort with talking about money matters.
"Yes, there is that."
"How about two dollars per hour above what your current employer is paying you?" My mouth wants to drop open.
"Don't you even want to know what that is?" He makes a face.
"Nah . I get the feeling you'll be worth it."
"No pressure there," I mumble. He laughs again.
"Oh, there'll be plenty of pressure. Don't you worry about that. This place is kickin' on the weekends." I want to remind him I've been here, but I don't want him to be thinking about me undressing him. Too late. "And you've only seen the upstairs," he says with a wink. I should've known I wouldn't get out of here without some reference to that.
"Can we just forget that ever happened?" His smile is devilish.
"Not on your life." He starts backing up, away from me, away from the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Seven o'clock."
"Should I wear something particular? Or…"
"I'll send some stuff to your house." He winks again, then turns around and disappears into a barely visible door at the back of the bar.
SAM
I smile as I hear the door bang shut behind Mercedes. She's gone. I hate that I had to cut the interview short, but I can already see that girl's gonna have a way of making me do and say crazy, stupid shit. In a way, I like it. I like her. She's such a contradiction. I can tell she's attracted to me, but she tries not to be. I can tell she's a little shy, but she tries not to let that show, either. And watching her put on a brave face, watching her rise to a challenge, is so damn hot! It makes me want to push her, to see how far she'll go. I know that sounds perverse, but it's true. Something about her reaction to my taunts gets my juices flowing. All I know is that having her around so much is going to make for some very interesting weekends! I sit down to type out an email to Marie, who owns the shop that supplies me with all my uniforms. I can't help but think of what Mercedes will look like in the low-slung black jeans and snug black tank top. I don't want my bartenders to look like whores, but I don't mind for them to show a little skin and a little cleavage. It sells more drinks. And, in Mercedes's case, it will provide me with lots of pleasure. I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow night. She's already got that cute-' n'-sexy thing going on. Putting her in an element where I can focus on getting her to spread her wings a little will be the most fun I've had in a long time. I'm already thinking of what I can ask her to do for her "audition."