Текст книги "Barely Breathing"

Автор книги: Brenda Rothert

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

But not Eric. That motherfucker could rot. I shook my head as I remembered the way he’d treated Vivian, and also her refusal to play his game. Hell of a woman.

I got up to get back to the floor, but turned back to my desk before making it to the door. There was an unused filing cabinet behind my desk, and I put the container of brownies in the top drawer. If I brought an employee in here for a talk about how they’d fucked up, the last thing I wanted was them seeing brownies on my desk.

Also, I didn’t want to share them. Those fuckers were all mine.

Vivian

CARA LOOKED ME OVER AS I checked my makeup in a travel sized mirror, nodding with appreciation.

“On the prowl, I see?” she quipped.

“No.” I glared at her. “What, just because I look nice, I must be trying to hook up with a man? How very caveman of you.”

She rolled her eyes as she applied pale pink lipstick. “I know you, V. You only dress this way and curl your hair when you’re hoping to meet someone.”

“I’m wearing jeans. And I just have some waves in my hair that are almost gone already. Stop being so suspicious.”

“Yeah, but you’re wearing heels with the jeans. And I know it actually takes effort to do the whole effortlessly wavy thing with your hair.”

The cab we were riding in pulled up in front of Six and I handed the driver some money, thanked him and followed Cara onto the sidewalk.

“The glove does not fit, my friend¸” I said to her. “I’m just here to have some drinks with my best, most paranoid friend. And also return this shirt.”

I clutched Kane’s flannel shirt in one hand and my bag in the other. Since I was in public, I resisted my urge to press it against my nose and inhale its cedar scent yet again.

I’d been single for so long that I was extra susceptible to excitement over manly things. Muscles, flannel and stubble actually made me tingly these days. Ten months without sex was a long time for a 28-year-old woman. Especially since that sex hadn’t even been good.

And in my most honest moments, I admitted to myself that much more than sex was missing from my life. I envied couples I saw holding hands at the farmer’s market. I wanted someone to share life’s ups and downs with, and my efforts to find that someone had only turned up one lousy guy after another.

Cara poked my shoulder, bringing my attention back into the moment. “I don’t think we’re getting into Six tonight,” she said, sounding defeated.

I followed her gaze to a line that stretched down the sidewalk. The bouncer at the front door was explaining to someone that they couldn’t get in without a reservation.

Things didn’t look promising.

“Let’s go to that new place I was telling you about,” Cara suggested. “The sushi bar. It’s only a couple blocks from here. We can walk.”

She turned to walk away from the club, but I stopped her. “Wait. Just give me a second.”

The bouncer at the door was almost as wide and muscled as Kane. He held a hand up as soon as I approached.

“Sorry, we’re full unless you’ve got a res—”

“This is Kane’s.” I held the shirt up halfheartedly. “I was hoping to return it. If we can’t get in, can I just—”

The bouncer’s brows shot up. “Oh. Come on in,” he said, lifting up the hook on the rope that cordoned off the entrance. He called to a woman in a black dress. “Elyse, she’s here to see Kane. You have a table open upstairs?”

The pretty redhead smiled and extended her arm. “Of course. Right this way.”

I waved to Cara, who dashed through the opening in the rope and grabbed my arm.

“Who is this guy, anyway, Viv?” she whispered. “You dropped his name and we not only got in, she’s taking us upstairs.”

“It’s probably just overflow seating,” I said absently, scanning the room for the burly, tattooed man whose shirt I held.

“Are you kidding? All the good stuff is upstairs in clubs like this.”

I met her eyes with a silent question about just what kind of club this was. I wasn’t going to say the words in front of the redhead who was leading us up the open, smooth stone staircase.

The table we were led to in a small, private room was already set for two. An open door led out to a huge balcony that overlooked the first floor of the club. People were drinking and dancing out there.

“I’ll let Mr. Kane know you’re here,” the redhead said. “And a server will be here shortly.”

“No, I’ll go down and find him,” I said, getting up and following her to the door. I turned to Cara. “You don’t mind?”

She waved a hand. “Course not. I’ll go out there and mingle.”

I descended the staircase, keeping a hand on the polished marble railing as I scanned the club. The dance floor was filling up fast. But why was I looking there for Kane? Just the thought of him dancing made me break out in a smile.

After two trips around the first floor, I still hadn’t seen him. I went down the hallway that led to his office and found his door was open just a crack. I leaned against the wall to wait.

“ . . . better than that,” Kane was saying. “I’ve got no choice but to fire you.”

“Please,” a female voice pleaded. “It was just a stupid mistake. I’ll pay it back. You can dock my paycheck if you need to.”

“It’s not about the hundred bucks. You broke my fuckin’ trust, Melanie. I can’t have people working for me who steal.”

“I wasn’t stealing,” she balked. “I was borrowing it until payday. My rent was overdue and I was about to get evicted.”

“Taking money out of a cash register is stealing. This ain’t a damn bank, it’s a business.”

“But—”

Kane cut her off. “We’re done here. Come get your paycheck Friday. You can keep the money you took.”

I moved down to the end of the hallway, out of earshot. Less than a minute later, a young blond with a tired expression walked out. She went toward the back of the club, head hung low.

After a deep, reassuring breath, I walked to the door to Kane’s office and rapped lightly on the frame. When I peeked around the corner, he was at the desk, arms folded, looking lost in thought.

“Viv,” he said, his brow furrowing in confusion.

My stomach flipped with excitement at the sound of his deep voice saying my name.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

He stood. “Yeah. Yeah, come on in.”

I gestured at the shirt as I walked across the room to his closet. “Brought this back for you.”

After pulling open the closet door, I hung it on the same hook I’d seen him take it from when he gave it to me. I couldn’t help doing a one-second scan of the closet’s contents. A leather jacket, a pair of dark boots and . . . an American Girl bag? That one was a surprise, but I didn’t let it register. The closet had the same cedar smell his shirt did, mingled with the sweet scent of cigar smoke.

“So how’s it going?” I asked, not wanting to leave.

He shrugged. “Usual. You didn’t have to bring that shirt back.”

“I don’t mind. My friend Cara came with me. I wasn’t trying to name drop, but when I told the guy at the door that I had your shirt, he let us in and we ended up with a table upstairs.”

A hint of a smile danced on Kane’s lips. “Good. You guys should order dinner, we’ve got a great chef.”

“I think Cara wants sushi.”

Kane arched his brows. “Jim makes kickass sushi.”

“Really? Okay then, we’ll—”

“Kane.” A woman in the dark v-neck t-shirt worn by the servers appeared in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt, but shit just went bad at the bar. A couple customers accused Bryce of shorting them alcohol in their drinks and they really laid into him over it. He started crying and quit.”

“The fuck?” Kane shook his head in disbelief.

“I’d take over, but we’re getting slammed out there. No one else knows how to bartend.”

“Get back out there.” He stood and waved her toward the front of the club. “I’ll be right out.”

He turned to me. “I have the worst fuckin’ luck with bartenders. You don’t know any good ones, do you?”

I swallowed hard and grinned, trying to radiate confidence. “Just one. Me.”

This time he did smile. It was a surprised, no way in hell kind of grin.

We walked to the door at the same time.

“You?” he asked, disbelief in his tone.

“I was a bartender in law school.”

He leaned on the doorframe. “How do you make a Manhattan?”

“Canadian whiskey, sweet vermouth and a dash of bitters. A bit of cherry juice if I’ve got it.”

He gave a slight nod of appreciation.

“I make the best Lemon Drop you’ve ever had,” I said, enjoying the way he was looking at me.

He scowled slightly. “Do I look like I drink those?”

“I guess not,” I conceded, smiling. “But you should try mine. Not a grain of sugar on my hands, either.”

“So when you’re getting your ass kicked and you’ve got a line four deep at your bar, how do you make a Mojito?”

“I tell them to order something else.” I crossed my arms. “Ain’t nobody got time for mint-mashing when you’re that busy.”

“I never should have doubted you,” Kane said, his dark eyes shining with amusement. “You are a bartender. And tonight, I am, too.”

He left the office and I followed him down the hallway and across the crowded floor of the club. The long, dark wood bar was swarming with angry-looking customers and impatient-looking servers.

I touched Kane’s arm to get his attention in the noisy room. His skin was warm, his bicep rock hard with muscle. He looked at my fingers on his arm and then at me.

“Want some help?” I asked.

He looked at the mob in front of the bar for just a second before nodding. I followed him to the end of the bar, where he lifted the swinging counter and stepped aside for me to enter first.

“You handle the servers since they bill their own drinks,” he said in my ear. My skin prickled with warm awareness at the feel of his breath on my bare skin.

The bar was clean and well-stocked. A martini shaker sat abandoned where Bryce had probably left it. Patrons were yelling out orders, but Kane silenced them with a glare.

“One at a time,” he said, his tone authoritative. The clamor eased up and I turned to the group of several servers at the end of the bar.

“Just here to help,” I said, washing my hands quickly at the nearby sink. “Who’s up first?”

I took an order for three Cosmos and four shots, crossing paths with Kane as I went down to make them. He was headed to the sink to wash up before making his first drink.

Even though it’d been a few years, I fell back into the rhythm quickly. Pouring, measuring and shaking were second nature to me after three years as a bartender. The recipes came back quickly for most of the drinks, and the servers were able to help with the others.

Kane was a natural bartender. I watched him with every free second I could spare. He kept both hands busy at all times, sometimes working on more than one drink at once.

I cleared the line of servers in less than fifteen minutes and then backed up Kane, making the more time-intensive drinks for him. I soon realized there was no catching up at Six. The group of thirsty customers just grew as the night got later.

I’d looked up at the balcony a couple times and caught flashes of Cara’s blond hair. She was dancing. Cara made friends wherever she went. I, on the other hand, had confidence in myself but still felt awkward inserting myself into people’s social circles.

“Here comes our relief,” Kane said after about an hour. Two men came through the swinging counter and one gave Kane a puzzled look.

“Shift starts at nine, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. Bryce quit,” Kane said.

The man smiled and glanced at me. “Looks like you found a much prettier replacement.”

“She’s just helping me out,” Kane said gruffly. “Eyes on your bar, Hintz.”

Kane nodded to the swinging counter and opened it for me. I walked through and headed for the stairs, not sure where else to go. When I stopped near the grand entrance to the second floor, Kane was still next to me.

“Thanks, Viv,” he said, leaning down to speak in my ear. And again, major tingles. “Let me pay you for helping me out.”

I shook my head vigorously and tipped my face up to talk in his ear. “It was fun. And last time I was here, you helped me out in a pretty big way.”

His expression softened from its usual scowl. “At least stay for dinner. Everything’s comped tonight for you and your friend.”

I leaned back and met his greenish brown eyes. “Will you join us?”

He must’ve heard me or read my lips, because his face registered surprise. “You want me to have dinner with you?”

I nodded, realizing I wanted it a lot.

“Okay,” he said, gesturing toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”

I went back to our small room, which was somewhat insulated from the noise. It only flowed in from the door that was open to the balcony.

“If the attorney thing falls through, I’ll hire you as a bartender any day of the week,” Kane said, sounding impressed.

I laughed. “Well, I’m still seventy grand in the hole for law school, so I’m hoping the attorney thing will work out.”

“What kind of lawyer are you?”

“Family law. Divorce and custody cases.”

His scowl returned. “Sounds depressing as hell.”

I shrugged. “Not really. It’s rewarding when we can resolve things amicably.”

I sat down in one chair and Kane took the other.

“You assume I know the word amicably?” he asked, amused.

“I do.” I pulled my hair up to get some air on my sweaty neck. “And you do.”

“You want me to have the temp turned down in here? Every room has its own climate control.”

“No, I think I’ll cool down now that I’m not moving around so much.”

A female server with short salt and pepper hair walked in. “Mr. Kane,” she said warmly. “How nice to see you up here. What may I bring the two of you to drink?”

“Water for me,” he said.

I cocked my head and considered. “White wine, please. Whatever kind you recommend.”

“Very good,” she said, nodding at me. “I’m Marla, by the way. Let me know of anything you’d like. Anything at all. We pride ourselves on delivering at Six.” She turned back to Kane. “Would you like to see the chef?”

He furrowed his brow. “I think we’ve got someone else joining us. Can we get another chair? And we’ll wait for her to order.”

“Yes, sir. I did bring her some sushi and hot tea earlier.”

On cue, Cara looked over from her spot on the balcony and danced into our room. “You must be Kane,” she said, her cheeks flushed from dancing. “I’m Cara.”

“Good to meet you,” he said, nodding. “You hungry?”

I gave Cara a look that I hoped said please let me have some time alone with him.

“No, I had some amazing sushi earlier. I’m dancing it off now.” She danced back toward the balcony. “Nice to meet you, though.”

“Just two, I guess,” Kane said to Marla. “What are the specials?”

She rattled off a few things and then Kane looked at me expectantly.

“The pan-seared grouper you mentioned,” I said. “That sounds really good.”

“It’s delicious,” Marla assured me, turning to Kane.

“New York strip,” he said. “Jim knows how I like it.”

“Yes, sir.” Marla smiled at both of us and disappeared from the room in an instant.

“You’re not still dating that douchebag from last weekend, are you?” Kane leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “No. God, no. That was a blind date gone wrong.”

“You pressed charges?”

“Of course I did.”

He nodded with approval.

“Are you a bouncer here?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. If he was, bouncers at this club were treated like royalty.

“Naw, I’m not a bouncer. I’m a little of everything, I guess. I’m part owner.”

I nodded with realization. “Of course. Makes sense. And your name . . . is Kane your first name or your last name?”

He made a grunting sound. “It’s my last name, but everyone calls me Kane.”

“So you’re like Shakira? Madonna?”

“Yeah, I’m exactly like them,” he said with a wry smile.

We talked about my work and the ins and outs of owning a club, and it seemed like no time until our food was brought in. My grouper was served with some kind of garlicky, cheesy potatoes that melted in my mouth and sautéed asparagus.

“This is amazing,” I said after finishing a bite, gesturing at my plate. “It’s really good.”

Kane nodded, eating his steak and baked potato in silence. I used the opportunity to study the lines of his biceps and chest in his black t-shirt. He was broad. All muscle. On his arms, his tattoos were works of art, coasting in and out of the ridged lines.

We’d almost finished eating when a hulking black man whose bald head matched Kane’s came into the room.

“What’s up, Rosie?” Kane asked.

“Sorry, boss.” His voice was a rich baritone. He glanced back and forth between me and Kane.

“Rosie, that’s Viv. Viv, John Rose. But everyone calls him Rosie.”

“Sorry for interrupting, Viv,” Rosie said, turning his attention back to Kane. “It’s ten o’clock.”

Kane nodded. “Can’t Jeff open it?”

“He’s off tonight.”

“That’s right. Lazy bastard. I’ll be right down.”

Kane stood and met my eyes as Rosie nodded and left the room, barely fitting through the doorway.

“I have to go open the vault for the deposit,” he said in a low tone. “I’m the only one who can do it.”

My heart raced as I looked up at him. I had no more excuses to come back here, and I didn’t want this to be it. I was more intrigued by Kane than I’d been by a man in a long time.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, standing.

He turned for the door, looking at me over his shoulder. “Thanks for the bartending help.”

“Can we go out sometime?” I blurted, my cheeks warming.

Kane turned around and looked at me, his lips parted with surprise. Several seconds passed. I’d apparently stunned this brawny, hard-edged man into total silence.

Kane

IT TOOK ME A FEW seconds to recover from the shock of what Viv had just said. “Uh . . . you’re saying you wanna go out . . . with me?”

Her cheeks, already a sexy shade of pink, darkened further. “Right. Yes.”

I was thirty-four years old and had never gone out on a date. The women in my world didn’t expect to be wined and dined. Their desires were much more . . . primal.

“But . . .” I wrapped my hand around the back of my neck and exhaled deeply. I didn’t know what else to say. Had she seen me? Did I really look like the kind of guy who rang women’s doorbells with a bouquet in hand?

“You’re already seeing someone.” She looked at the floor like she wanted to sink into it.

Fuck. I hated doing this to her. She was a strong, beautiful woman. Not to mention smart and sexy as hell. How could I tell her it wasn’t her, but me, who was the problem?

“No,” I said, more adamantly than I meant to. She looked up and met my gaze, hope glistening in her big, hazel eyes.

Another few awkward seconds passed.

“It’s fine,” she said, reaching for her bag. “Honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

I couldn’t do this to her. Viv was a woman who deserved better than to put herself out there and feel rejected in any way.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, we can definitely go out.”

Her eyes found mine again. And damn, did she have pretty eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure.” I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. “Can I have your number?”

Her shoulders sank with an exhale of relief. How in the hell had I managed to draw the interest of a woman like this? She was stunning. I’d watched guys checking her out at the bar. And how could they not? She was tall, with curves in all the right places, gorgeous eyes, dark waves begging to be pulled just hard enough and a smile that lit the whole goddamned room.

She recited her number and I typed it into my phone.

“I’ll call you,” I said. “Is next weekend okay?”

She nodded, looking like she was trying to hold back a smile. Damn, was I in deep shit. A woman like her deserved a real date, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how to plan one. I had some recon to do.

Another thing I had no idea how to do was say goodbye to her. I ended up nodding and giving her a half wave before leaving the room.

Smooth, Kane. Really fucking smooth.

I went downstairs, looking out over the full house on the first floor on my way. I’d been concerned that the novelty of this place would wear off after a few months. Jeff said it wouldn’t, and he’d been right so far.

The strength of this business had to hold up. We were making great money and I was saving and reinvesting, but this was all I had. A guy with a past like mine wasn’t gonna get hired at a regular job.

I opened the vault for the deposit and then locked it back up. I was overdue for rounds of all the areas of the club, so that was up next.

I was about to head back to the kitchen when I saw Rosie. He was standing off to the side of the main floor, just watching.

“What’s goin’ on in here tonight, Rosie?” I asked, standing against the wall next to him.

“Pretty quiet, boss.”

I nodded. Rosie was often a man of few words. It was one of the reasons we got along so well.

“So, uh . . .” I cleared my throat and considered how to approach my question. “I’ve got a customer asking about a good spot to take a woman on a date, and you know I don’t know shit about that stuff. What should I tell him?”

Rosie pressed his lips together as he thought about it. “That steakhouse on the Upper West side’s supposed to be good. It’s on 70th, I think. Or I know of some good French places.”

I scowled. “I don’t think this guy’s into French food. And the steakhouse . . . he could wear regular clothes there, right?”

“If he’s goin’ on a date, dude needs to at least wear a shirt with a collar and nice pants.”

“It’s so damn hard to find dress shirts that fit,” I said, groaning. “He’s big, like us.”

“Tell him to have some made. I know a real good tailor.”

I grunted my agreement. “And what about after dinner? Is that it? Does he take her home after that?”

“If she’s a ho.”

My eyes widened in horror. “No. No, she’s not a ho.”

“Then he should take her out dancing or for a carriage ride or for a walk. Maybe to a movie.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll let him know. Thanks, man.”

My gaze was drawn to the stairway, where Viv and her friend were walking down arm in arm. Viv turned to the blond with a wide, dazzling smile and my pulse sped up. I felt a sudden, burning desire for her to smile that way at me, which probably made me an epic pussy.

I had shit to do to get ready for this date, and I wanted to get everything right. I had to go to the tailor for a shirt, get my short beard trimmed up by a barber and make a reservation at the steakhouse Rosie had recommended.

Viv’s gaze washed over the crowd as she neared the door. Was she looking for me? I hoped like hell she was. She’d soon realize she was way out of my league, but until then, I’d soak up the feeling of a woman like her looking at me like I was something besides a thug. Like I was better than I really was. It felt damned good.

I was sitting down to eat dinner in my office Tuesday night when I figured I’d get my phone call to Viv out of the way so I could stop worrying do damn much about it. I’d turned into a pimply kid with a crush, but thank fuck no one but me knew it.

“Hello?” she said, her tone all-business.

“Viv. Hey, it’s Kane.”

“Hi,” she said, her voice warm and silky now. “How are you?”

“Not bad. How bout you?”

She sighed lightly. “I’m good. Just got home from the gym. I’m making ramen noodles.”

“Ramen noodles?” I wrinkled my face in disgust. “That shit’s not even edible.”

“Old habits die hard,” she said, a smile in her tone. “I was so broke through college and law school that I actually started to like this stuff.”

“Well, I’m planning something better for this weekend. Is Friday night good for you?”

“Perfect. Should I meet you somewhere?”

“No, I’ll pick you up . . . if that’s okay.”

I’d realized halfway through my sentence that she might not want me to know where she lived.

“That’d be great,” she said. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay. Dinner reservation’s at seven, so pick you up at six-thirty?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before she spoke. “We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, you know. I’m good with pizza or burgers if you’d rather.”

Aggravation flared inside me. Did she assume I only liked to eat at dives that matched my rough appearance?

“I already booked us at Emerson’s,” I said gruffly.

“Okay, that sounds great. I insist on splitting the check, though, since going out was my idea.”

I held the phone away from my ear as I rolled my eyes. What I really wanted to do was beat the goddamned thing against my desk.

“Like hell,” I ground out. “It’s a date, Vivian, so I’m paying. Don’t worry, I’m not broke or anything.”

“I never said–” She interrupted herself. “Wait, Vivian? Am I in trouble or something?”

Her amusement exasperated the fuck out of me.

“You’re damn close, woman. You wanna be wined and dined or not?”

She gave a low hum that sounded a lot like satisfaction. My cock stirred to life from the sound.

“By you?” she said. “I most definitely do.”

“I’ll see you Friday, Viv.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I pulled on the collar of my shirt and grunted. This fucking thing was about to strangle me. I hadn’t worn a dress shirt since I was a kid, and this was why.

And a tie? I’d never worn one before tonight. It had taken more than an hour and four different Youtube videos to get the damn thing tied.

Stopping at Viv’s door, I took in a deep breath and let it out.

Game face, Kane. It’s only a date.

I reached up and knocked high on the deep purple steel door, avoiding the flowery wreath hanging on it.

She opened it and I swallowed hard. That smile. It made me feel something I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around. And her outfit had me shifting my hips in an effort to discreetly adjust myself. She wore a fitted black dress that skimmed over all her curves just right and bright red heels.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside so I could walk in.

“Wow. You look . . .” Fucking hot. Sexy as hell. But I couldn’t say those things to her. “ . . . really good.”

“Thank you.”

She picked up a red fabric thing and her purse from a chair.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeah. Can you . . . ?” She handed me the red thing and turned around, lifting up her hair.

Oh, hell. Her neck was smooth and creamy. I fought an urge to reach out and touch it. I wanted to wrap one hand around the back of her neck, reach around her waist and just take her in. Slide my hand up into that long, dark hair and pull her back flush against my front. Let her feel how hard she’d made me.

“Uh . . . I don’t . . . what’s this?”

She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. “It’s a wrap. Kind of like a light sweater thing. Will you wrap it around my shoulders?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

I opened the wrap and spread it out over her shoulders. My hand brushed across one of her boobs and she stiffened.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

She laughed lightly. “You’re fine. Thanks.”

When she turned to face me, I watched her fingers as she fastened a button on the wrap. Red nails, too.

Those hands would look fucking hot wrapped around my cock.

“You look really good yourself,” she said, her gaze moving up and down me.

“Uh . . . thanks.”

I opened the door and held it for her as she walked through. At least I’d gotten one thing right.

The club’s Town Car was parked in front of her brownstone. I’d been planning to open her car door, too, but Len was already standing there. He held on to the door and grinned at Viv.

She said hi to him and slid in. As soon as he closed her door, I shook my head and gave him a look.

“The fuck are you looking at her like that for?” I whispered. “It’s creepy.”

“Sorry,” he whispered back. “I’m just happy you’re going on a date. She’s beautiful.”

“Len, keep your eyes on the road and for fuck’s sake don’t let on that this is the first date I’ve ever been on.” Now my whisper was more like a hiss. Why hadn’t I covered this shit with him before we got here?

His eyes widened with surprise. “Ever? First date ever, boss?”

I glared at him and leaned closer. “It’s gonna be over before it starts if you keep this up. Just drive the car, alright?”

“Yes, boss.” His expression turned serious and he ran around the car to open my door. I’d told him no less than fifty times that he didn’t need to open my door, but every damn time, he did it anyway.

I went to get in the car and caught a final glimpse of Len, who was giving me a covert thumbs-up. I couldn’t help it, I smiled.

“What?” Viv smiled from her seat next to me.

“Len.” I shook my head. “So are you hungry?”

“I am. I didn’t have much time for lunch today.”

“You didn’t eat ramen noodles, did you?”

She laughed. “No, I had a milkshake at the mall. I was shopping . . . for these shoes, actually.”

I liked that she’d bought new shoes for our date. And the pink flush of her cheeks when she’d admitted it just now . . . yeah, I liked that a lot.

“They look good,” I said as Len pulled into traffic. “I had to go shopping for this shirt and tie.”

“You did well.” She turned to face me. “Were you off work all day?”

“Yeah, but I stopped in earlier to get things going for the night.”

“Have you found a new bartender yet?”

I sighed deeply. “No. I’m trying to steal one away from another club. We’ve got a meeting set up next week.”

We made more small talk about our jobs until we got to Emerson’s. Len was all business when he opened our doors this time. I nodded at him and he got back in the car and headed for the club. He’d drive our VIP customers until I texted him to come pick us up.

The restaurant had tall, dark wood double doors. I held one open for Viv and she rewarded me with a smile. Her bright, warm smile had the opposite effect of her heels and nails. It made me feel soft inside. I looked at her sexy shoes again until the feeling passed.

“Mr. Kane.” A man in a suit came toward us, his hand extended to me. “We’re thrilled you’re here.”

“Thanks,” I said shortly, shaking his hand. His grip was unimpressive.

“Right this way.” He led us into the dining room, talking to me over his shoulder. “I hear Six is doing extremely well.”

“Business has been good,” I confirmed, wondering how he knew I was an owner of the club. I’d only given my name when I made the dinner reservation.

He pulled out Viv’s chair for her and handed us both wine lists. Viv and I looked at each other across the table. I couldn’t hear a word this guy was saying. Nothing was getting through but the dance of her blue eyes and the smile tugging up the corners of her lips.

“Mr. Kane?”

“Hmm?” I glanced up.

“Some wine to start?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever you recommend.”

“Very good, sir.”

He left and I cleared my throat. “So . . . you’ve been good?”