Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(3)

“So…what can I get for you?”

Rather than answer, he stood and took off his leather jacket. I gulped getting a look at the muscles bulging from the plain white T-shirt he wore. Tattoos covered his arms, coiling around like ivy to cover every inch of skin. I had the craziest urge to examine them up close—ask him what each of them meant.

“What’s your name?” He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me, yet I didn’t really feel like he was checking me out. It was confusing and intriguing at the same time.

“Gia.”

“Gia.” He repeated after me. “Tell me, Gia, what would the owner think if he knew you were behind that bar giving out wrong change and pissing off his customers?”

This guy might’ve been sexy as hell, but his sudden change in tone had warning bells going off. Yet, I didn’t walk away or call Oak. I stood there answering like an idiot. An idiot who vomited truth when she got nervous. “I’m thinking the owner would probably be pissed off. He wouldn’t see it as me doing a good deed for a friend who had to leave in an emergency.”

“And why is that?”

“Well…I heard he’s a prick.”

He cocked a brow. “Yes. I’ve met him, and he is a prick.”

Even though he’d agreed with me, it didn’t sound like he was on my side at all. I needed to extricate myself from this bizarre conversation. “So…would you like my specialty…a beer?”

“Sure.”

“What kind?”

He shook his head slowly. “You pick.”

Relieved to escape for a few minutes, I walked over to the tap, pulled a beer mug from the crate under the counter, and started to fill it with the local beer that Riley had told me to push. Still feeling those eyes on me, I glanced back over my shoulder at my rebel customer and found him staring. He didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend he wasn’t when I’d caught him.

“That’ll be six dollars,” I said setting down the full mug.

“Eight.”

“Pardon?”

“The beer, it’s eight bucks, not six.” He seemed a bit annoyed.

“Oh. You’re correcting me so you can pay more?”

The bouncer-manager-tree walked up to the bar and stood next to my customer. “Liquor delivery came late and was short four bottles. Receipt is under the cash drawer, boss.”

It took a minute for what I’d heard to sink in. My eyes widened. “Did you say…boss?”

Badass glared at me. “That’s right, Gia. I’m the prick. I own this place.” His mouth curved into a smile that was anything but happy. “Now, get the fuck out of my bar and tell your friend she’s fired.”

Shit!

He was the boss.

I figured this guy for some kind of drifter passing through town on his bike, not the owner of the entire establishment.

Everyone was staring at me as I scrambled to find the right words.

“You can’t do that. You can’t fire her. Don’t blame Riley because I can’t make drinks to save my life. That’s not her fault. She was trying to do a good thing by having me step in because of her family emergency. She could have just left you high and dry. Don’t punish her for my incompetence.”

When the bouncer approached again, the prick held out his hand without breaking his stare, which was firmly directed at me. “Not now, Freddie.”

“Sorry, boss. I have to let you know that Elaina just called out. She’s not coming back to work at all. Decided to head to the City with her boyfriend. They both got auditions for some play. She said she’s really sorry but that she quit.”

The prick ran his hands through his hair in frustration and gritted his teeth. “What the fuck?” He looked like he was going to blow. He let out a deep sigh then closed his eyes to compose himself. When he opened them, he just glared at me.

He was so intimidating, but I wasn’t about to let him see me sweat. I needed to stand my ground and defend what I knew in my heart was right.

I gave him a few seconds to process the news that had just pissed him off even more and then I pleaded, “Please. You need to reconsider. I’m not leaving until you assure me that Riley hasn’t lost her job over this. It’s not fair.”

He gave me a once-over. “You can’t bartend for shit…but can you stand around, look pretty, seat people, and carry the occasional tray of food, if needed?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The nighttime hostess just quit. I’m not going to be able to find someone in time for the Friday night rush, which is about to start rolling in any minute. If you help me out, I’ll let your friend, Riley, keep her job.”

He wanted to hire me?

“You just tried to kick me out! Now you want me to work here?”

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bind I didn’t anticipate, and I had a few minutes to digest your sorry excuse. It seems you had good intentions in helping your friend, even though it was a dumbass move on her part to ask you to do that.”

“So, what if I don’t accept the job?”

“Then Riley gets fired for putting someone behind my bar who shouldn’t have been there. The choice is yours.”

It took a moment to really consider his proposal. Or was it extortion? The truth was, I needed the extra money. I’d blown the ten-grand advance I received from the publisher of the book I was writing to rent the summer share I was living in. Getting an extra job that would provide some supplementary income was something I’d been considering anyway. This could actually really work in my favor.