I flip through the photos, every one of them a different shade of blonde. Not one of them resembling her on purpose. They’re youthful, visually seductive, and I bet they’d never call a man like Hayes a gigantic prick.
“You pick.” I hand him back the folder. “Is there anything else?”
His eyes move between me and the one file left under my hand. “I’m going to need you to take care of that Ms. Wilder issue as quickly as possible. Every minute that passes without her signature is another minute she could royally screw up your life.”
I nod once.
“I’m serious, Alex.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Eighteen
Jordan
Lincoln managed to scrape up three shifts for me this last week for a total of thirteen measly hours. Thankfully, one of those shifts was on the same night a bachelor party of twenty-five came in. The tips were good, although the sexual harassment was obnoxious. Isn’t there a saying about that? Beggars can’t be choosers.
I despise this job.
“How’d you do?” Courtney takes the seat next to me at the bar while I settle up and count my tips.
Things have been awkward since I’ve been back. She can’t look at me without pity and guilt shadowing her expression. My first day back, she hugged me for ten minutes and kept apologizing. I’m guessing it was more of an I’m sorry for fucking your boyfriend than an I’m sorry for believing you were dead and leaving you in the mountains.
“All right,” I say and set aside my eighty-six dollars and fourteen cents. “Not as well as I wanted.”
She counts out her cash on the bar and sighs. “My tips were shit tonight.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s probably because she neglected most of her tables to sneak off with Lincoln into the office or out in the alley. Several of her customers flagged me down when she was unavailable, all of them with the same complaint.
I pretend I don’t notice the longing glances between Courtney and Lincoln or how they find every opportunity to casually touch hands or stand close.
“Are you going to come out and grab a drink with us?” Her voice is a little too high, giving away her unease at the thought that I might tag along.
“No, I’m tired.” I’ve spent every waking hour searching for jobs online, filling out applications, and scheduling interviews. “I’m gonna head home.” I gather my tips and dread the subway ride. I only treat myself to a cab when I make one-hundred dollars or more.
I change out of my plaid bra and mini-skirt uniform and slip on my leggings and hoodie sweatshirt. When I walk out of the locker room, I run into Lincoln waiting for me.
“You don’t want to come out for a drink?” he says with the same elevation in his voice that Courtney used.
“No.” I’m so sick of pretending I don’t know about them, and honestly, I’m shocked I didn’t see their betrayal sooner. They’re horrible at hiding it.
“Okay, well…” He rubs the back of his head and looks at his feet. “If I drink too much, I’ll probably crash at Tony’s house.”
All those times he drank too much and crashed at Tony’s because his place was closer to their favorite dive bar. Translation: He’s staying with Courtney.
“Cool. ‘Night.” I try to give him a polite smile, but my acting skills are shit as of late.
I stuff my uniform into my purse and brace myself for the walk to the station. The temps have dropped, and my cheap leggings are no match for the wind. I pop up my hood and push out the door. The first bite of the cold air whips against my legs, and I figure if I walk fast, I’ll work up enough body heat to keep my teeth from chattering.
I keep my head down, my arms crossed over me, and make a left on the sidewalk. The sound of a car door opening beside me calls my attention to a sleek, black SUV. I have a brief thought about how the heater inside is probably epic and hurry my pace.
“Jordan.”
I slow and turn toward the deep voice that said my name.
A man in a dark gray button-up shirt, collar open, and black slacks stands at the door of the car. His head tilts as he takes me in the same way I do him. He’s tall, with broad shoulders, hair cropped short, and a clean-shaven face with just the hint of shadow on his cheeks. I squint and step closer. Hazel eyes pierce mine.
“Grizzly.” I take three steps and crash against him. My arms wrap around his waist, and my cheek presses to his chest. He smells like aged wood and rich spices, and the heat coming off of him makes me shiver.
One muscled arm comes around my back, a hesitant response to my greeting.
Feeling a little stupid, I release him and take a step back. “What are you doing here?” He looks like a different person. No longer the rugged, unkempt mountain man, he’s now the poster boy for a New York millionaire.
He puts his hands in his pockets, and I wonder if he does it to keep his hands warm or to resist the urge to touch me. Sadly, I’m afraid it’s the first. “Watching you.”
“Watching me why?”
He glares at the glass windows of the restaurant, and I realize if he’d been parked here in this spot, he’d have the perfect view of my section.
“You watched me work all night?”
“Yes.” He dips his chin to meet my eyes. “I’ve come the last couple nights, but you weren’t here.”
“How’d you know where I work?”
His brows pinch together. “You told me.”
“I didn’t realize you were actually listening.”
“I was always listening.”
My cheeks warm, and something happens to my face that I haven’t felt since… well, since I came off that mountain. I smile.
He cups my jaw and runs the pad of his thumb over my lips as if he’s just as happy about my smile as I am.
The touch reminds me of our last night on the mountain, the way he played my body so easily. Played with my heart, too. I turn away and out of his touch. “What do you want from me?”
He seems confused by the question.
“We had sex, Alexander. Amazing sex. And the second your brother showed up, you acted like you hardly knew me.”
He clears his throat, and he studies the sidewalk with a pained expression. “I’ve never been good with women.”
“Um… that’s a lie. I was there. I know exactly how good you are with—”
“Not the physical part.” He finally meets my eyes and reveals his vulnerability. “The emotional part. I told you I tend to hurt people just by being myself.”
I sigh because he’s right. He did warn me he wasn’t great with people, and he showed me as much. “So, what? Is this your apology?”
He reaches for my hand and presses the inside of my wrist to his warm lips. “I’m sorry.” He runs his lips back and forth and then brushes his nose against the skin, breathing me in.
My head floods with images of us naked and tangled together. Such a cruel trick to play on my heart. I pull my hand away and tuck it to my side. “Apology accepted.”
His expression is warm, and he looks like he wants to say something when the door to the restaurant opens. He glares over my head, and I turn to see Lincoln with his arm around Courtney. They stop on the front step, and she giggles as he pulls her in for an open-mouth kiss. I hurry and look away, duck my head, and hope they don’t see me hiding under my hood.