Playing Dirty. Taryn Leigh Taylor

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СКАЧАТЬ fellow students were choosing to spend their money in a crappy sports bar instead of a flashy nightclub did good things for the bottom line. And it was a bottom line that needed all the help it could get.

      Still, that didn’t keep her from imagining firing Darius at least three times per shift, if only for the peace and quiet.

      “Give me a hard time for not keeping my workspace clear, but I show up to a mess of bottles on the counter when you’re in charge,” he muttered, the way he always did when he was trying to get under her skin.

      “It was recipe development,” she said simply. “It’s called a Black Widow.”

      Darius frowned as he set the Cinnamon Schnapps back on the shelf. “You put all this stuff in the same glass? Whoever he was, he must’ve really pissed you off.”

      Embarrassed, Lainey rubbed her fingers against her cheek in a vain attempt to extinguish the lingering prickle where Cooper’s knuckles had touched her. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re late.” She made sure her voice was as frosty as the draft mugs that rattled when she slammed the cooler door. “For future reference, your shifts are posted in Pacific Time.”

      Darius glanced over his shoulder as he returned the Kahlua, the Blue Curacao and some banana liqueur to the appropriate shelves. “He definitely pissed you off.”

      “You pissed me off,” Lainey corrected, standing. “I know Martin let stuff like this slide, but I’m trying to sell this place. I can’t afford not to have things running smoothly.”

      “You keep saying that, but you’ve been here for three months and counting. I’m starting to think we’re never gonna be rid of you.”

      Lainey pulled a face at his broad back when he turned to clean up her mess.

      “You know I can see you in this mirror, right?”

      She schooled her features into a neutral expression. “And you know that I have the power to fire you, right?”

      “Well, before you let all your authority go to your head and I end up suing you for wrongful termination, you should probably check your phone. I texted you that I was running late. But I’ll let it go, because I’m in a stellar mood. Sandra and I shared a hell of a goodbye before her Uber showed up to take her to the airport.”

      Darius’s expression was dripping with satisfaction. “Which is why I got here late, if you know what I mean.” He waited a beat. “And what I mean is that we had copious amounts of sexual intercourse.”

      “Thanks for the clarification, wonder stud.” Lainey rolled her eyes at him. “But I’m not sure that’s the type of excuse that will stand up in court. As a future lawyer, you’ll want to familiarize yourself with labor laws.”

      The well-timed entrance of Agnes Demille saved Lainey from Darius’s retort. The zaftig waitress materialized from the “Staff Only” door to their right, plopped her massive gold lamé purse on the counter behind the bar, grimaced and slung it back on her shoulder. “Honestly, you two. I’ve been here for thirty seconds, and there’s already a table full of customers with no beer and a sticky counter. This ain’t no way to run a business. ’Specially on game night. Let’s get a move on, people! Darius, hand me that rag.”

      Darius peeled the blue rag from the sink and dropped it in front of Aggie, who set to work immediately, scrubbing at the sticky rings on the counter. “So, Lainey,” she said, not bothering to look up from her task, “I’m thinkin’ the two of us need to have a little chitchat.”

      Lainey ignored the resulting shiver down her spine. Aggie could size up a room quicker than anyone Lainey had ever met, and she didn’t miss a detail. Especially not a ridiculously handsome one wielding a glass full of sludge. In an attempt to sidestep the conversation, Lainey placed a tray on the counter and systematically loaded it with six frosty bottles of beer from the cooler. “Beers for Larry’s table, as requested.”

      Unfortunately, the announcement didn’t faze the formidable woman before her. “They can wait. What you just did to Cooper Mead can’t.”

      “What?” Darius’s brows dove into a V as he scanned the customers. A sharp bark of laughter confirmed he’d located his target. “Are you kidding me? The Black Widow was for Cooper Mead? That is so awesome!” He held up an expectant palm in her direction, then thought better of it and aborted the high five. “Man, it sucks I was late! I would’ve loved to have seen his face when you handed it over. So what’s Mr. Big Shot doing here, anyway?”

      “Bible study starts in ten minutes.”

      Darius shot Lainey a pained smile as she bent to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

      “Well, don’t be a moron. It’s a bar, for God’s sake. What do you think he’s doing here?”

      “It’s a floundering sports bar,” he corrected pointedly. “Hardly the preferred scene of professional athletes.”

      Lainey stiffened at the comment. “Then you should be glad he’s here. He shelled out for his drink, so you might actually get paid on time this week.”

      Darius had the grace to blush. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “Yeah, I know.” Twisting open her water, Lainey took a long swallow and stared blankly at a framed hockey jersey—number 42—on the opposite wall. “I have no idea what he’s doing here, either,” she confessed.

      Lainey took another bracing gulp of water, screwed the lid back on and turned to meet Aggie’s unrelenting stare.

      “It’s no big deal,” Lainey assured the carroty-hued waitress. Further proof that cheap self-tanning lotion, like Cooper Mead, was one more on a long list of items to be avoided.

      “He fed me a lame line, I gave him a disgusting drink. As you can see, he didn’t take it too hard.” She gestured toward a smiling Cooper as he posed for a camera phone.

      “Just because a man notices you got a nice rack don’t mean you need to start handin’ out the Black Widows.” Agnes shook her frizzy, brassy-hued curls. “I never shoulda told you about those.”

      “She’s right, Lainey,” Darius interjected. “You do have a nice rack.”

      She landed a hard punch on his shoulder. “Back off, pervert.”

      Lainey turned back to Aggie with “I told you so” plastered all over her expression. “You see? I’m rude to all overbearing jackasses! It’s what I do.”

      Agnes planted a fist on one generous, black-spandex-covered hip. “Yeah, but Cooper Mead ain’t every other jackass.”

      “Oh, no? And what makes him so special?”

      “That’s what I’d like to know,” Darius threw in.

      “I mean, sure, he’s gorgeous,” Lainey conceded. “And there’s no denying the way that voice rumbles through your chest and trickles down to all the right places, and yeah, okay, I may have almost had an orgasm just looking at him.”

      Aggie nodded dreamily, and both women shot a wistful look in Cooper’s direction. Not that they were bonding or anything. This was strictly physical appreciation СКАЧАТЬ