Up to Me Page 6

  I grit my teeth and ignore her as best I can. I’m thankful when Cash turns on the music and it drowns out her obnoxious happiness. With a ruthlessness that feels like it’s directly linked to my survival, I put every ounce of my focus into work. I can’t stand to be inside my own head for one more second.

  CHAPTER EIGHT- Cash

  I get up and walk to the bookcase across from my desk for the third time. I’ve left my office door cracked so I can make sure Taryn is behaving herself.

  When I went outside after unlocking the front doors, it was with the intention of admitting Olivia and I are seeing each other and then giving Taryn an ultimatum. I didn’t want her coming in and giving Olivia a hard time. But I think I underestimated just how big a role Taryn’s ego would play. She beat me to the punch on being the first to speak and, in the process, gave me the perfect out. Olivia’s secret is still safe.

  “That girl really needs a new car,” she said cheerfully, glancing back at Olivia’s car as she walked across the parking lot toward me.

  “She can’t afford one right now. And you don’t need to be giving her shit. That girl’s having it pretty rough. I feel sorry for her and if you knew what all was going on in her life and with her family, you would, too. So do us all a favor and keep the claws in, okay?”

  She stopped in front of me. Looking hard into my face, she stared for at least a minute or two before she said anything. Even now, I wonder if she was looking for the truth. And what she ended up finding.

  Whatever it was, she never let on that she didn’t believe me. She laughed and shook her head. “So what was it this time?”

  “Spark plugs, I think.”

  “I guess I could start giving her a ride, since we’ll be working the same shift for a while.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause that wouldn’t make her feel worse or anything,” I said sarcastically.

  “What? I can be nice.”

  “You can be, but you haven’t been. That would be like rubbing salt in a wound if you offered her a ride to work because her car’s a junker and she can’t afford anything else right now. Especially after the way you’ve treated her.”

  I had to grit my teeth. Just thinking of Taryn mistreating Olivia was enough to make me see red. But I couldn’t let her see that. So, I hid it all behind the mask that my face has become.

  “Are you kidding me? I bought her a shot last night and offered to take her out after work. What else do you want me to do? Donate my blood to help her pay for a car?”

  “Don’t be a smart ass. I didn’t ask you to be her best friend. That’s on you. I’m just telling you not to give her so much shit. She’s having it rough.”

  Taryn smiled in that vampy way she has, a way that used to end up with us getting naked somewhere, but now does absolutely nothing for me. I hoped she saw that, but her next action assured me she didn’t.

  “Anything for you, boss.” She leaned in toward me as she spoke. Not enough to rub up against me, but enough that her ample chest was just brushing mine.

  “Now that’s the attitude I like for my employees to have,” I said nonchalantly, turning to head back into the bar.

  I purposely didn’t glance at Olivia on my way back in. I didn’t want her to think I’d betrayed our secret. Well, it’s not really our secret; I don’t care who knows. It’s more her secret.

  Now, as I glance out at the bar, I see Taryn smiling and tending her customers. I haven’t seen her antagonizing Olivia at all. Of course, I haven’t really seen her pay much attention to her either way. I’d much prefer her to just ignore Olivia. That would be best all the way around.

  I’m sitting down at my desk when my phone bleeps, the notification of an incoming text message.

  Is this the number for help wanted in the twin cities?

  My pulse picks up. It’s a response to the ad.

  Yes.

  My reply is short. I don’t really know what else to say.

  You’re lucky I’m in town. I’ll be there in 3 hours.

  My first thought is to wonder how a perfect stranger would know where to find me. The only thing listed in the online ad other than my phone number was the short two-sentence blurb my father had me post.

  Urgent help wanted in the Twin Cities. Stop.

  It says nothing of my location. Maybe the area code of my phone could be used to get a general location, but nothing specific enough to actually find me.

  Unless there is tracing involved.

  You know where I am?

  The reply makes me uneasy.

  Of course.

  I’ve deduced that people from my father’s past have been keeping an eye on us, but it seems like the group is much larger—and hopefully a lot friendlier, in some cases—than I’d originally suspected.

  Of course, I have a thousand questions, things like who the hell are you, how are you associated with my father and why have you been watching me. I’m torn between asking now or waiting. In the end, I figure it’s best to wait. Dad had me reach out to them. I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing. I know he’d never get me hurt if he could help it. Still, the whole thing makes me nervous.

  Putting that out of my mind, I think about how grateful I am for technology. The online ad alerted somebody. Fast. Somebody my father thinks can help. And, judging by the short, gruff text, he’s probably not the type of person most people would call a “pleasant” association. But, that’s the nature of the business my father was in. I’ve known it for a long time. I just never expected it to have such a profound and intimate impact on my life.

  Pulling out the books for the club, I work on some accounting, hoping that will help me get through the next three hours. I can’t really go out and mingle in the club—I can’t keep my eyes off Olivia— so that leaves me stuck back here. Waiting.

  Just over an hour later, something that’s been niggling at the back of my mind rushes to the front. It’s got its unpleasant aspects, which is probably why I haven’t given it my full attention before now. It makes it seem like I don’t trust my father. Which I do. But I guess I don’t trust anyone one hundred percent, especially not with Olivia’s safety hanging in the balance.

  I pick up my phone and dial the one person I feel like I can trust with anything and would do whatever he could to help me out in a pinch. In the absence of my real brother, he’s stepped in to fill the void. He’s the closest thing to family I have on the outside.

  “Damn you’re needy!” comes the familiar voice of Gavin Gibson, my part-time bar manager and friend. His words still carry a little bit of a lilt from his childhood in Australia.

  “This isn’t about work, Gav. It’s something else. I need your help.”

  There’s a pause. When Gavin speaks again, all teasing is gone from his voice.

  “Anything. You know that.”

  “Can you come to the club for a couple hours?”

  “Uh, yeah,” he says uncertainly. “Just let me take care of a couple things and I’ll be right over. Give me forty-five minutes?”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  After I hang up, I realize this was a good decision. I feel better about the situation already. I need my own people, people I can trust, people I know. Going into this alone would be crazy and irresponsible, even though my father’s directing the traffic. Still, I need to cover all my bases. And Gavin can be the ace up my sleeve.

  CHAPTER NINE- Olivia

  Plastering on a smile, I’m fighting to keep my disposition light for my customers. I hear what sounds like a battle cry from the other end of the bar and I glance down to see Taryn happily celebrating…something. When she turns to change the music, I know by the first few notes what’s going on. Someone is getting a body shot.

  Most of the crowd is familiar enough with Dual to know what the song means and what a body shot is, so they quickly scramble to Taryn’s end of the bar to watch the entertainment. I think the only more effective way to clear out space in the room would be to start screaming, “Fight!” and po
int toward the door. The place would empty in four seconds flat.

  The girl who will be receiving the body shot looks like the type that volunteers for them. A lot. I would be willing to bet she is made of eighty percent recyclable materials and that her clothes belong to her much smaller sister. The mass of white-blond hair atop her head completes the picture of a bimbo.

  She wiggles and jiggles before she lies back onto the bar. I find it amusing that no one has to adjust her clothing at all for the shot. An ample amount of her stomach is already exposed by her outfit.

  Taryn limes and salts her belly, and goes one step further by pouring the tequila into her navel, which only works for people with a fairly deep one.

  Oh boy! Some guy is gonna love sucking that out!

  I look into the drooling crowd for salivating idiot number one. He’s easy to spot. He’s all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the thought of licking something off this girl’s body. All his friends are clapping him on the back and he’s actually rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  Try to hold it together there, quick shooter.

  I giggle at my thoughts. He’s not so bad, but some of his friends look like they could be poster children for premature ejaculation. My bet is that a couple of them run off to the restrooms after they watch this little show.

  Ack!

  Since my customers are otherwise occupied, I use the time to wipe down my station, doing anything and everything I can to keep my mind on work. Periodically, I glance down at the commotion on Taryn’s end. The crowd goes wild when the guy starts licking the salt off the girl’s stomach. I shake my head and smile. It really doesn’t take much to get this group fired up.

  Just as my eyes are moving back to the task at hand, I see a shadow move in the sliver of light coming from Cash’s office. My senses are attuned to that corner of the room, no matter what I’m doing or how hard I try to ignore it.

  Cash is leaning up against the door jamb, watching me. Even across the distance, I see the heat in his eyes. I feel it. He doesn’t have to tell me what he’s thinking. I know it as certainly as I can see it in the back of my mind. He’s remembering the night this music played for us.

  Like instant replay, the scene—the smells, the sights, the sounds, the feelings—unfolds in my mind with perfect clarity. A slow burn starts low in my belly as I think of Cash draped over me. It spreads like fire as I relive his lips and tongue traveling over my stomach, dipping into my navel and teasing the edge of my shirt.

  I feel my pulse pick up when I remember the look in his eyes when he took the lime from my mouth. It’s the same look I’ve seen there more than a dozen times since then. That’s the way they look when he watches me come. It’s the way they look when he’s watching me undress. It’s the way they look now. It’s a hungry look that says he wants me. Right this minute, with nothing between us but hot breath and damp skin, he wants me. Now.

  And there’s no denying that I want him, too. Just as badly.

  The crowd between us cheers, but I don’t look to see what’s happening. I can’t tear my eyes away from Cash. He’s like the sun that my world revolves around—no matter how much I try to gravitate away from him, to set my heart and my body free of him, he draws me. Compellingly. Inexplicably. Undeniably.

  He arches one brow and I feel desire shoot through me. It almost takes my breath.

  Oh God how I want him!

  I’ve never wanted someone this way. So deeply. So completely. So desperately.

  But that’s the part that gets me into trouble. It’s the part that scares me.

  A group of guys moves away from the action, coming between us and breaking Cash’s very disconcerting eye contact.

  The moment is gone.

  But not the effects.

  Every day, every hour, every minute I spend in his presence, Cash is getting further and further, deeper and deeper under my skin.

  “You must be Olivia,” a lightly accented voice says, drawing my attention away from the door.

  When my eyes make their way to the owner of the voice, I know my mouth drops open. If the earth holds anyone that ranks anywhere close to Cash in good looks, it would have to be this guy.

  Holy furry crap balls! He’s gorgeous!

  A thick patch of jet black hair—cut close and styled like Tom Cruise’s hair in Top Gun—sits above a very tan face that is the picture of classic good looks. Wide brow, high cheekbones, straight nose, chiseled mouth, strong jaw—he’s just a man’s man. That’s all there is to it. But it’s his great smile and twinkling ocean blue eyes that turn him from great looking into gorgeous.

  Even while I’m thinking this, while I’m cataloging his attributes, I’m aware of a lack of any flicker of excitement, any glimmer of attraction. He’s handsome, very pleasant to look at, seems to be a nice enough guy, but he’s just not Cash. Plain and simple. My guess is there’s only one guy for me. I just hope I’m the girl for him.

  The guy I’ve been examining raises his eyebrows in question and I remember what he said.

  “Why must I be Olivia?” I ask agreeably. His grin widens. It’s contagious and puts me instantly at ease.

  “Well, for starters Olivia is a pretty-girl name. And you’re a pretty girl. Secondly, you’re the only employee I haven’t met here, which means you must be Olivia. Now,” he says leaning in and looking at me from the corner of his eye. “Be honest. You’re impressed by my extraordinary powers of deduction, aren’t you?”

  His eyes are full of mischief and I find myself laughing before I can even reason out what he’s saying.

  “Okay, you caught me. I won’t lie. I’m terribly impressed by your extraordinary powers of deduction.”

  He nods. “As I suspected. I’m irresistible that way.” Abruptly, he straightens and sticks his hand across the bar. “I’m Gavin. Gavin Gibson. I help Cash with the bar.”

  “Gavin Gibson? That sounds like the real identity of a super hero. You packin’ a cape somewhere under that shirt?” I ask.

  “Nah, I stow my only super power in my pants.”

  He winks and I grin.

  “Do you flirt like this with all the employees here, Mr. Gibson?”

  “Mr. Gibson?” His expression shows he’s clearly appalled. “Mr. Gibson is my father.”

  “Sorry, Gavin.”

  “Much better. And no, I don’t. It’s very unprofessional for one thing. But, far more importantly, none of the other employees look like you. If they did, I might have a problem on my hands.”

  “I never figured you for the sexual harassment type, Gavin,” Cash says, coming to a stop at the bar beside Gavin.

  Although his tone is light and playful, Cash’s expression is anything but. Gavin leans an elbow on the bar and turns to Cash.

  “You’ve never had an employee worth harassing before,” he teases, looking over to wink at me. “But this one might be worth losing my job over.”

  “Oh, you’d lose more than your job if you ever laid a hand on her. Trust me.”

  Gavin’s still smiling as he looks back at Cash. I see it slowly fade as he takes in Cash’s very serious expression. Gavin straightens and his head turns from Cash to me and back again.

  He nods and claps Cash on the shoulder with one big hand. They’re pretty close to the same size, but Cash is still a touch bigger.

  “Got it, mate. No harm intended.” He turns to me and gives me another charming smile. “Olivia it’s been a pleasure. If you’ll excuse me, we have some business to discuss.”

  Cash doesn’t move until Gavin has already left the bar and is heading in the direction of the office. He looks at me, his eyes deep, fathomless pools of ink, then he turns and follows Gavin, leaving me baffled as to what just happened.

  CHAPTER TEN- Cash

  It’s all I can do not to slam the office door behind me as I follow Gavin inside. I’m seething. And Gavin knows me well enough to know it.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing her, bro. I meant no offense.”

 
; I know he didn’t. But that does nothing to appease my anger. Watching Olivia smile like that for someone else was…was…

  “You can’t act like that around employees, Gavin. Do you know the kind of legal shit storm you could cause?”

  He holds up his hands in surrender. “My bad, Cash. It won’t happen again. I just wasn’t thinking.”

  “Don’t let it happen again. I mean it.”

  “It won’t,” he assures me solemnly. After a few seconds of silence, he makes mistake number two. “But damn that’s one hot sheila!”

  His accent seems more pronounced, which only makes me angrier. It’s like he’s slipped into some mode where he’s trying to be more appealing to the women.

  “That’s enough!” I snap.

  Gavin grins and nods slowly, like he’s discovered something.

  “Ahh, so you are seeing her.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You didn’t have to. Don’t forget that I know you, mate. For a while now. I’ve seen you with your flavor of the month before and you’ve never given a shit if I flirt with them or not.”

  “You’ve never—”

  “The hell I haven’t! You’ve just never noticed before.”

  I can’t even clear my mind enough to think back and determine whether it’s true or not. But I decide it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he keeps his hands off Olivia. His eyes, too.

  “Olivia’s…she’s…it’s just…”

  “Say no more. From now on, she’s my little sister.”

  I look at him. Really look at him. In his eyes, I see my best friend. My business partner. One of the few people on the planet I actually trust. And I know he’s telling the truth.

  I nod, too. “Good enough.”

  Gavin sinks down in his chair a little, propping one ankle on his knee and lacing his fingers together behind his head. He’s back to his old comfortable self.

  “So, what’s going on? From what I’m gathering, it must be pretty important.”

  I’m sure he’s referring to my short temper. At least partly. Gavin is a very perceptive guy. His father was military and they moved around a lot. The family was stationed in Australia for several years when Gavin was young, which is where the trace of an accent comes from.