In Her Best Friend's Bed. J. Critch Margot

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.”

      He shrugged and opened his own beer before he began wiping down the counters. “We had a crazy night here. I think we’ve earned it.”

      She nodded. “That’s true. Thank you.” She saluted him with the green bottle and took a long swallow.

      He watched her meticulously tidy the counter behind her and arrange the liquor bottles, making sure they were located on the appropriate shelves and the spouts were clean. While the servers were responsible for making sure the rest of the club was clean, he and Abby concentrated on the bar and making sure the cash registers and the bank deposit balanced at the end of the night.

      They cleaned side by side, not talking, both using extra force to scrub the surfaces, whether it was necessary or not. Trevor wondered if they were both taking out their frustration—sexual or otherwise—on the countertops. They cleaned and then recleaned. Trevor normally insisted on a spotless bar, but they were in danger of entirely wiping the chrome from the bar top.

      The cocktail servers had all finished their own work and left by the time Trevor and Abby pulled away from the now-immaculate bar area. Trevor looked around and realized they were alone in the building.

      Abby threw down her cloth and finally proclaimed their work done. She disposed of their empty beer bottles, and he watched her as she stretched to reach the bottles on the top shelf behind the bar. Trevor couldn’t help but appreciate the length of her body, her shirt riding up to give him a peek at the smooth skin on her back, and he saw the top of the butterfly tattoo that he knew was there, just above her hip. He managed to somehow avert his eyes just in time as she turned around holding a bottle of expensive tequila and two shot glasses.

      He looked at her bounty, eyebrow raised in question. She ignored him as she poured two shots. “I’m in need of something a little stronger than beer tonight,” she explained. “What do you say?”

      “Yeah, what the hell?” he said with a smile. He took the shot she offered before he turned back to the cash register and began counting the money.

      Abby took her shot, as well, and then she glanced around the bar. He knew she was looking for something else to clean. “Why don’t you go sit down?” he told her. “I just need a couple of minutes here.” It was a rule that the staff always leave the club in groups at the end of the night. He didn’t want any of them vulnerable late at night in the parking lot. Who knew what kind of drunks or weirdos were out there?

      “Sure.” Abby shrugged her shoulders and, taking the tequila bottle, she walked to a nearby table.

      Trevor removed the money from the register and looked up briefly to see her pour another shot, a frown taking over her entire gorgeous face.

      “You’ll find something, Abby,” he told her. Her eyes rose from her bottle to hit his directly, her gaze cutting a path straight to his belly. “Just keep at it. You’re a catch. Any business would be lucky to have you. I know I am.” A swell of melancholy rose in his chest, for her sadness and his own. He would miss her like crazy if she worked anywhere else.

      “Does that mean I can use you as a reference?” she asked with a mirthful smile, СКАЧАТЬ