“There’s a new guy coming around. He’s been persistent.”
Major blows out a breath, prying the beer bottle from my hand. At the mention of this guy, my body goes rigid.
“If you care about her in any way, she needs to know,” Amanda suggests.
“Can’t stop her from dating.” The words come out grave and clipped, ripping a hole in my gut.
“Ugh! You are extraordinarily bull-headed.” She actually stomps, her face flaming red. Her actions remind me so much of Harley’s that some of my irritation slips away.
“Another reason we came by is to let you know Boyd called me after your little meeting today,” Rich breaks in. “Can’t predict the future, but if you boys don’t screw up, you have the recommendation.”
“That’s good to know.”
“It’s a long road, Ace, and I’ll support your career. But like Amanda said, don’t wait too long to really start your life. Especially if you want that life to include Harley. A lot has changed in the three years since you were here.”
Rich is digging deep. He knows how I feel about his daughter. Always has. We go into a stare-down, the boiling in my gut spreading through my veins. His lips twitch, one side curling up.
“See I may have finally made my point. Word of warning, the woman has a temper like her mama.”
Amanda nods in agreement “Us Jacobs women know how to hold our own.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
2
Harley
It’s only seven o’clock and my feet are already throbbing in agony. The next three hours will be hell.
“Please don’t tell me Tom changed the dress code.” My best friend, Jewls, joins me behind the bar, ready to start her shift.
“I forgot my clothes at home this morning so I’m stuck wearing these.” I wave to my business attire from my day job.
“You look nice.”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe you look a tad out of place. Why don’t you change your shirt?”
“I tried, but Tom doesn’t have any more in my size.”
Her eyes light up as she reaches to the underside of the bar, digging in her bag, and a blur of blue zips across the space. “Found one,” she chirps.
“Jewls, you’re a size smaller than me.”
“Half a size, technically, and this shirt has been worn. It’s stretched out.”
“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose.
“It’s clean, you freak, just perfectly worn.”
“Fine.”
I roll my eyes on the way to the restroom to change. It’s a little snug in the chest, but the rest is loose and it’s a much better choice. When I look in the mirror, my eyes bug out. Snug isn’t the right word.
My chest is bursting at the hem of the V-neck, barely covering the lace of my bra. I glance at the cream ruffled blouse in my hand and contemplate putting it back on when there’s a banging on the bathroom door.
“Jewls needs you! The rush has started,” Tom barks gruffly.
“Too late to change my mind now,” I mutter, hurrying to the bar.
An hour later, we have a chance to breathe and I catch the sly grin on Jewls’ face as she whispers something to Tom. He looks at me, then back to her, walking away, shaking his head.
“What was that about?”
“He’s acting like an old man,” she replies, wiping the bar top.
“How so?”
“Something about you showing skin in his bar.”
“What the hell? He loves skin.” The girls who work the floor and man the bar on the weekends wear much more provocative outfits, and he encourages it.
“That’s what I told him. This is much sexier than the stiff, stuck-up wardrobe they force you to wear daily.”
I ignore her comments about my clothes, mainly because I agree. Being a junior marketing executive at my firm requires a certain level of conservatism. While I’m not one to show a lot of skin, I wish the dress code was looser.
“Don’t worry about him. This should cheer you up.” She waves a wad of cash in front of me before dropping it in the tip jar below the bar. “We are getting closer to our vacation.”
Our vacation. Two weeks in Europe. Jewls and I bouncing around from city to city, visiting my cousin, and closing the trip with a Mediterranean Cruise.
That’s why we are working here. Every bit of this money goes to our trip. Tom is an old colleague of my dad’s who retired and opened the bar years ago. He traded his uniform-wearing structured life to laid-back, t-shirt-casual bar-owner. He secured a perfect location that brings in heavy clientele, especially from the force. Everyone supports him.
He agreed to hire us with little experience and trained us in what he labeled ‘his way’. We aren’t typically scheduled weekend shifts, but the nights we work provide a good amount to pad our European Fund.
“You ready to talk to me?” Jewls’ question brings me from my thoughts.
“About what?”
“It’s been days. I’ve been patient enough.”
I shrug, glancing around the bar, hoping someone needs a drink so I can avoid her inquisition. Unfortunately, everyone is glued to the baseball playoffs on the overhead screens.
“Nothing to say. His responses to my texts have been short and distant. He doesn’t have time to get together right now, even for coffee. Doesn’t take a genius to see he’s not interested.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No big deal,” I lie.
It is a big deal. My head has been in a complete daze since seeing Achilles at his graduation.
It did not surprise my parents when I asked them to get me a ticket with them. Dad’s position on the force gives him floor seats, and I knew it would work to my advantage. Luck was on my side, and all four of the men were directly in my line of sight during the whole ceremony. I knew he was planning an escape. The tension in his body rolled off in waves.
Once, only once, did he glance my way. When his dark eyes connected with mine, I forgot how to breathe.
Dazzling... That’s the only way to describe them.
He let his guard down, and I felt the heat between us. There was a dash of hope in that split second before he broke the connection.
When he fisted his thigh and flicked two fingers, that was my cue. He made the mistake of looking to his left. I followed his eyes to the exit, and I was on my feet, inching that way before the commissioner was through speaking. I had no clue what to expect, but enough was enough. He’d been evading me for too long. I tried to stop him, make him talk to me, but I was too late.
“Earth to Harley.” A palm waves in my face.
“I’m pretty sure he’s cut me off again,” I whisper softly, hating to admit it. “He’s been back in town for over six months. Things are definitely different between us. Even communication with the guys is turning weird.”
She slides her hand in mine and squeezes sympathetically. There’s no use in telling me to get over Achilles and move on.
“I’m not going out with John again.” I change the subject.
“Not surprised. You can’t have chemistry with anyone when your whole mind is consumed with Ace,” she pauses, her gaze moving over my shoulder and her eyes lighting up. “Although, I think the tides may turn soon,” she giggles.