In Her Best Friend's Bed. J. Critch Margot
for good measure, Trevor reached into his pocket for his keys to the club and from the backseat pulled a case of top-shelf vodka. People went crazy for the stuff and didn’t mind paying the exorbitant price for it. To each their own. Those customers paid his bills, and the tips cushioned his savings and investment accounts nicely. He hefted the case into his arms, made sure he had a good handle on it and headed to the club.
Inside, he grimaced at the glare of the lights. He pushed his sunglasses farther up his nose and walked to the stockroom to unload the box of liquor. He pulled one bottle out to put behind the bar and then headed back. Before he made it back to the bar, Trevor stopped at the closed door of his office. Strange. He didn’t normally close it after checking out each night. He walked to the door, still holding the bottle, and pushed it open.
Surprised, Trevor dropped the bottle to the floor, and the frosted glass shattered into hundreds of liquor-soaked pieces. Abby stood in front of him, wearing nothing but her short black skirt and high heels. The smell of expensive vodka filled the air, as she clutched her black tank top in front of her stomach, and it took Trevor less than one second to focus on the wide expanse of smooth, alabaster skin of her high, full breasts and flat stomach. They stood in stunned silence for a couple of beats. Trevor was oblivious to everything but her, even the alcohol seeping into his sneakers.
It was a few moments before she broke free of her shock and came to her senses. “Oh, God, Trevor,” she screeched and raised her arms to cover her perfect breasts. Trevor frowned briefly, mourning the loss of the view of her dusty-pink nipples.
“Oh, shit!” He became cognizant of the mess at his feet and bent to clean it up. “I’m sorry.” He stared at the floor, trying to look away from her, attending to the glass. “I didn’t even know you were in here.” He raised his hand and turned his head slightly. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came in here to change out of my suit.” In his periphery he could see her turn her back to him and pull her tank top over her head. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my office.” When Trevor looked up a little, he caught her dark, distorted reflection in the screen of the turned-off computer monitor on his desk. He felt like a lecher, but he couldn’t force his eyes away.
“But you’re early,” she protested. He watched her reflection as she straightened her shirt over her chest and down to her waist. And she huffed out a breath that made her breasts rise and then fall. “I’m done. You can turn around now.”
Trevor did as she told him. She was fully dressed, stuffing her business suit into her duffel bag. She didn’t look at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said with an outward breath. “I shouldn’t have used your office.”
“It’s fine. Use it anytime you want,” he told her. “I’ll just knock when the door is closed. Who knows when there will be a half-naked woman in here?” He laughed.
“Knowing what I do about you, it really could happen at any time,” she retorted, one eyebrow raised.
Trevor frowned at her approximation of him; nothing like that had ever happened to him at work. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I really didn’t know that you were in here.”
Abby laughed and pushed past him. “You didn’t embarrass me at all. I know I look good naked.” She winked at him and walked behind the bar to start work.
Trevor exhaled roughly and watched her. He replayed her words in his brain: I know I look good naked.
Yeah, he thought. No lie there.
* * *
IT WAS A few hours later, and Abby ducked into the small backroom off the bar for a quick, much-needed break to sit down and drink some water. Her feet were sore—why did she always opt to wear heels to work? She rolled her ankles and pulled out her cell phone. On the screen she saw a notification of a missed call from a number that was only vaguely familiar to her. She dialed her voice mail. The mystery was soon solved when the message started playing, and she realized it was the voice of Michael Arnett, the man who had interviewed her earlier that day.
She turned the volume up on her phone, so she could hear over the din of the club. “Hello, Ms. Shaw,” Arnett’s voice on the recorded message sounded in her ear. “I’m just calling to let you know that we really enjoyed meeting you today...”
She smiled and sat straight. This is it.
“But we have decided to go in another direction with hiring for the position. We’ll keep you in mind in the future. Good luck in your job search.”
Abby disconnected the phone and slumped in her chair, huffing out a frustrated breath. She thought that she’d completely killed that interview, and to find out that she hadn’t gotten the job—well, it sucked.
This night just keeps getting better and better...
Abby frowned and mentally checked off yet another opportunity that she’d missed. She glanced at her watch—just over four hours left before she could go home and wallow in self-pity. She might as well get back out there. She’d been away from the bar for five minutes, leaving Trevor on his own. She stood and opened the door, and she looked out at the bar. Trevor somehow managed to keep the place going on his own. He didn’t really need her back there and she was certain he only offered her the job to be nice. She wasn’t a great bartender and she felt she was in his way most of the time. But he never complained.
With a sigh, she walked behind the bar and plastered her biggest smile on her face—as phony as a three-dollar bill. She was bummed, but she wouldn’t let it get in the way of doing her job. She might only be a bartender, but for now it was her job and she would do her best.
Trevor caught her eye and gave her a curious look, furrowing his brows at her. She shook her head, dismissing him. He watched her for a moment longer before returning to his work and letting her get on with hers.
* * *
WHEN LAST CALL sounded and all the patrons had stumbled out, Trevor took a deep breath, exhausted. They were busy, maybe even busier than they had been the night before. Spring break meant a bigger crush of new faces, in addition to loyal locals, in the bar. Financially, it was great. Jamie would be happy with the numbers and Trevor and Abby had both benefited as well, but they’d worked their asses off for their tips.
Trevor locked the door and watched Abby as she wet a blue cloth with sanitizer and started cleaning up. He knew that there was definitely something going on with her. Ever since she’d taken her break, her demeanor had changed. Sure, she was smiling, but he knew better. He knew it was fake. Something had upset her. But what?
“Everything okay over there?” he called out to her, approaching the bar.
“Yeah, fine,” she responded, scrubbing a spot on the stainless steel without looking up.
Trevor wasn’t at all convinced. He walked back to her, leaning against the bar. “Are you sure? It looks like something is bothering you.”
“No,” she started. “Well, yes.” She threw down her rag. “I got a call about my interview this morning...”
“Really?” Trevor was interested. He hoped for a happy ending to her story, but, by the look on her face, he knew it was anything but.
“Yeah, I didn’t get it. They went in another direction. HR speak for ‘you suck and never come back.’”
He frowned. “You don’t suck, Abby. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
So that was it. She was disappointed that she hadn’t gotten the job. Trevor wasn’t looking forward to losing her, but he didn’t like to see her beautiful smile faltering from frustration and disappointment. Trevor hated to see her upset. He reached into the beer cooler under the bar and withdrew two bottles. He popped the top off one and passed it to Abby.
She accepted it, raising an eyebrow. “Drinking on the job? That’s not like you.”