Undercover Barmaid Page 3

  “How’s it going, man?” I ask him as I peer over his shoulder at the paperwork laid out on the desk.

  “All set. Just have to pick up the money Friday morning. Don’t stress, we’ve got this.”

  “I sure hope you’re right. My club is riding on this.”

  “As your best friend and front man, I assure you, it’s in the bag.”

  “Alright, I’m out.”

  “Going home?”

  “After a quick stop at Felicity’s, I’m hitting the sheets hard tonight.”

  I turn to walk away after giving Lance a bro tap, “Oh, I need her hired ASAP.” I hand him the application after looking one more time at the name, Sadie Blackmore.

  I climb into my truck and brush away all distractions. My mind focuses solely on one thing and one thing only. Felicity Winters. My dirty little secret. Except for with Lance, of course, he knows every scumbag thing I’ve done or intend to do. If Ava ever found out I’ve been banging her childhood best friend and roommate, she’d never forgive me. Not because she’d have a problem with a relationship between the two of us, but because there will never be a relationship between the two of us. Fe is a sweet girl, with a good head on her shoulders and she’s going places; I’m just not going with her. She’s a fuck buddy, plain and simple.

  I walk up to the duplex on Village Road and she buzzes me in.

  “Hey there, how was your...” She speaks, but I stop her.

  I cup my hand over her mouth, “No time for small talk. Ava clocks out in thirty minutes.” I grab her ass and pull her up as she straddles her legs around me. The touch of another body against mine, something I’ve craved all day. We crash through her bedroom door and fall onto her neatly made bed. I toss the handful of throw pillows over my shoulder as she rips my shirt over my head, literally ripping it at the collar. The desperation in her eyes mirrors my own.

  This is why I keep coming back, she’s as wild as I am and cuts right to the chase. Her exterior wouldn’t suggest she’s a freak in bed but the freaky ones rarely expose their guilty pleasures outside of the bedroom. I know hers, it’s me. I’m her guilty pleasure and she is mine.

  I devour her clothes from her body and strip mine down, tossing them wherever they may land. I press my lips fiercely into her neck, so much that she bellows in agony. Only, instead of pushing me away, she pulls me closer, gripping my hair. I slide my hand down to her spread legs and rub my fingers over her slit until she winces.

  Like two undocile lions, we tear into each other. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Until she begs me for more. “Tell me you want me.” I exhale into her mouth as my fingers dig deeper until they are engulfed in wetness. I rub my thumb over her clit with enough pressure to make her quiver as my fingers bend at just the right spot. Her hips flex, bridging a gap between her back and the bed.

  “I want you.” She groans as she squeezes my biceps, her nails like spades, piercing my skin that’s still wounded from our last hoorah.

  Hurt me. Make me forget, I beg in silence.

  I pull myself up as she retrieves a condom from her nightstand—her eyes confined to my dick as she watches me slide it on. I thrust myself inside her, feeling the warmth of her around my cock, as her hips sway with the motion. I reach my hand back and squeeze her ass as she brings her leg up to my chest. With each lunge, she moans with pleasure and her eyes beg me for more. All problems aside, it’s just us. In this moment. The risk of getting caught making it all the more intense.

  Her hands clench firmly to my shoulders as she presses them down, driving me into her further. The tightness around my cock sends me fleeing into ecstasy.

  Like a weight lifted off my shoulder, an escape from all of the pain and the uncertainty of what lies ahead—as if I confessed my darkest sins and I’ve been cleansed a new man, I combust. My heart galloping in my chest, I drop aimlessly onto Fe’s sweaty body. Right when she wraps her arms around me, I detach myself from the embrace. Pushing myself up before she tries to kiss me.

  I give her credit, she’s a persistent little thing. She’s tried on numerous occasions. And why wouldn’t she? Most people enjoy that type of thing, before, during, and after. Not me. Kissing is lustful, sacred, and something to be exchanged between two people who share mutual romantic feelings.

  “I was thinking maybe we could get dinner or something.” Fe voices.

  “Babe, you know we can’t do that.” I shake my head as I pull my torn shirt over my head.

  “It could be as friends. No strings attached. Just like this is.”

  Felicity and I have always had an understanding that this is just sex. She’s never asked for more and I’ve never offered it. It’s the agreement we made over a year ago. She knows I’m an asshole and I know that she’s made of pure unrefined sugar. They don’t come much sweeter than Felicity Winters. Which is why this was the last time, the end of our agreement. She doesn’t know it but all it took was that one question, asking me to go get dinner. I don’t date and dinner after sex would be a date to me. She’s getting too attached so there is only one thing I can do, cut the string.

  I kiss the blush colored cheek of my friend and leave without saying another word.

  That was goodbye.

  Five

  SADIE

  I’m snuggle into my recliner in front of the TV with Stranger Things on; in my plush pajama pants, my square couch pillow on my lap and a microwaved Alfredo dinner on top. Just when I’ve nuzzled my ass in comfortably my phone buzzes from the kitchen counter. Dammit.

  With no hurry behind it, I walk casually to the counter.

  An unknown number flashes across the screen so I hit the end button and send them to voicemail. If they have something to say then they will leave a message. I bring my phone with me this time and readjust myself in my chair.

  When voicemail appears on my screen, I hit the speaker button and let it play while I continue to eat.

  This call is for Sadie Blackmore.

  Right when I hear the name, I pick my phone back up.

  “This is Lance Taylor, the general manager at The Square. I was wondering if you could come in for an interview tomorrow afternoon, say 3ish, to meet with our lead barmaid and myself. Call me back. 555-9021. Talk soon.”

  “Eeek,” I squeal with excitement. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  I call back immediately and he answers right away.

  “Yes, Mr. Taylor. This is Sadie... um… Blackmore. I would love to meet with you tomorrow at three.”

  After he confirms, I hang up and call Gwen to fill her in. She’s preoccupied with something that she fails to divulge but I do all the talking anyway.

  I’m feeling as buoyant as Gwen was yesterday when I reach the office. Only today, she’s the one dragging her ass. She doesn’t look like she slept at all, so I pull out a store bought espresso shot from my stash and dump it into her coffee mug.

  “Throw a little whiskey in there, too, and I’ll be set.”

  “We’ll save that for later. We’re celebrating tonight. Well, if I get the job offer this afternoon.”

  “Don’t you have dinner with your parents tonight?”

  “Oh shit, way to kill the mood.” I completely forgot it was disaster dinner night. I call it that because the evening usually consists of my parents telling my sister and me all of the things they feel like we should have done different and usually ends in a disaster. Last month, Mom ran to the bathroom crying and stayed in there with the door locked for forty-five minutes. She’s always been emotionally intense. It was all because Stella told them she would never move back home. They’ve been trying to show their support for her coffee shop, in the best way they know how, but keep insisting she close this one and open up in Saratoga Springs. It will never happen. Stella and I both agree that home is not where the heart is. Sure, we love our parents deeply but our dreams keep us here. “Looks like we celebrate tomorrow.”

  “You’re not seriously wearing that to your interview?” Gwen gestures towards my outfit of choice.

/>   I look down at my grey pencil skirt and red peep-toe pumps. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “You’re practically begging for a job at a club. Jimmy Choo on your feet doesn’t scream, I need a job.”

  She has a point. “Help me, Gwen. I only have four hours and I need this to be convincing.” Panic ensues when I graze my hands over my matching grey blazer.

  Gwen eyes her Apple Watch, checking the time I assume. “My morning is pretty open, give me five minutes. We’re going shopping.”

  “Yes! I love the way you think.” I beam with excitement. I’ve been meaning to update my wardrobe for a while. It looks like I’ll be investing in some miniskirts. Not exactly my style but it will be if it gets me this job—this story.

  I take off my blazer and wrap it around the back of my chair, then throw on my jacket.

  Walking down 5th Avenue, Gwen insists that we go into a store that has mannequins decked out in leather from head to toe. “Are you sure this is what we’re looking for?”

  Gwen jerks my arm and pulls me inside the store. It even smells like leather, with a mix of sandalwood.

  “Oh, this is cute.” I pull a navy-blue dress off the rack and hold it up to myself, until I realize the material from the center has been ripped out... intentionally. “Ick.”

  “How about this?” Gwen flashes me a red leather miniskirt.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m serious. You can’t dress like a nun for a job interview at The Square.”

  “Compromise?” I hold up a black skirt, not too long but actually covers my entire ass.

  “Perfect. Now a shirt.”

  We rummage through the racks until I settle on a light pink baby tee. I’ve had all that I can take of shopping in this store that’s missing half of its shirts. I decide that I’ll return if I get the job.

  After applying an ungodly amount of eyeliner and giving myself one more shriek in the mirror, I’m on my way to the interview. I can’t help but wonder if this Lance fella will be as strikingly handsome as the last guy. Maybe this club is just full of sexy men. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. I may not be looking for a relationship, but some delicious eye candy never hurt anyone. I’m more nervous about Ava, she didn’t seem too keen on my plea for a job. She comes off pretty intimidating; I just need to get on her good side.

  When I walk up to the main entrance of the club, it’s locked. I knock but even I can barely hear my knuckles hitting the wooden door that’s probably at least 10 inches thick. Shit. Shit. Shit. I shiver in my new skirt and short sleeved shirt. I knew I should have worn a sweater, but Gwen insisted that it would make me look too proper. What the hell does she know? You don’t have to be some punk rocker just to work at a club. I’m done listening to her insane ideas. I look around and notice an alley about a block down. Maybe there’s a back door I can use.

  If it were any later in the day, I certainly wouldn’t be walking down this alley. It smells of grease and trash, which is probably because it’s lined with dumpsters. “Ahhh.” I screech when a small rodent runs out from behind one of them. “Oh Lord, please make this worth it.” I beg.

  I pick up my pace and turn the corner, speed walking past the back of the stores. Finally, I reach the neon glow that reads The Square—beneath it, Closed. I approach the door and just as I notice the sign that says Employees Only, the door comes swinging open and I stumble backwards trying to brace my fall. An arm reaches out to catch me. “Sorry about that, blue eyes.”

  I’m rendered speechless as I lay on his arm, his eyes piercing into mine.

  I break the gaze and pull myself together, and up. “No, it’s my fault. I’ve always been a little clumsy.” I could slap myself. “I shouldn’t have said that, considering I’m here for an interview. Who wants to hire a clumsy bartender?”

  Stop talking, Sadie.

  “I promise not to hold it against you.” He winks

  “The front door was locked so I thought I’d give this one a try.”

  “Oh yeah, we’re closed until four. Lance should’ve mentioned to use the back door. I haven’t formally introduced myself, Reed Titan.” He extends his hand and I reciprocate.

  “Sadie Blackmore.”

  I contemplate whether I should try and walk past him, as he blocks the doorway. He just stands there, silently observing me.

  “I’ll show you the way. It’s easy to get lost inside with all the doors. But you already know that.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, unsure of what he’s implying.

  “The bathroom.” He smirks, walking inside while I follow.

  “Ah, yes. You remember me?”

  I hope he doesn’t bring this up every single time I see him.

  “Of course, I could never forget those eyes.”

  I’m grateful that he’s walking in front of me so that he doesn’t see the huge grin plastered on my face. He’s not the first to compliment my eyes, I’ve been told they are a rare shade of deep sea blue, but his compliments make me feel giddy. Like a schoolgirl who has a crush on her hot teacher and he’s just graded her shitty English paper an A+. Yes, that happened to me.

  Reed directs me towards a table and tells me that Lance and Ava will be with me shortly. He begins to walk away as another man enters, Lance I presume. I watch Reed whisper something into his ear. Lance laughs in response and pats his shoulder before walking towards me.

  I stand up to greet him, “Hello, I’m Sadie Blackmore.”

  “Lance Taylor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Lance isn’t quite as breathtaking as Reed, but he has some appeal with his shaggy brunette hair and dark eyes. I certainly feel more at ease in his presence.

  The only sound is my deep breathing. A sudden drop in the ice machine in the back startles me.

  “Can I get you a drink before we get started? This shouldn’t take long.”

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “Ava is unable to join us as she’s a little under the weather. I reviewed your application and we really need to hire a new barmaid as soon as possible. So, what’s your availability like?”

  “I’m open. You tell me the hours and I’ll be here.” I slap my hands onto the table with a little too much oomph.

  “Wonderful. I’ll send you home with the paperwork and how about if you come back tomorrow, let’s say three o’clock? Reed can show you the ropes before opening. You can shadow him for a couple of hours.”

  “That sounds perfect. Is Reed a barmaid, too?”

  Lance chuckles at my question, “Bartender. We call our females barmaids. They’re superstars who deserve their own title. But no, Reed is the owner; a very hands-on owner. You’ll see him often.”

  “I see, thank you for that clarification. I can’t wait to start. Thank you so much.”

  As I walk away I inhale deeply... then exhale. You did it! I’m unsure how I did it, Ava is supposed to be the lead barmaid but she told me there were no positions available, and then didn’t even come to the interview. Oh well, at least I’m in. Time to get to work.

  Six

  REED

  I’m leaning against the back wall of the kitchen, waiting for her to come through so I can walk her out. I don’t want the new girl getting lost. I just found her.

  I’m staring down at my phone, reading old text messages, when Sadie springs into the kitchen. I drop my phone when I attempt to stuff it in the pocket of my jeans and she lets out a shriek so loud that even I jump.

  “I’m so sorry.” I laugh at the unamused look on her face.

  “Oh my gosh, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “I wanted to show you out, in case you forgot where the door was.”

  “Yes, I know, because I get lost easily.” She rolls her eyes and I sense her sarcasm.

  “I wasn’t going to say it.” I hold my hands up in defense.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can find my way out.” She points to the red exit sign on top of the back door.

 
“Right, that’s the exit but I’d like to walk you out front. And just a word of advice, try to avoid walking out back after dark.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. Fear of just about everything comes naturally to me. But thank you, Reed.” She smiles.

  The sound of my name rolling off her tongue makes me long to hear it more. I’m not sure what it is about this girl but I’m unequivocally drawn to her. It’s a terrible thing because I want to keep her around for a while. If I don’t detach the desire to throw her onto the prep table and every other flat surface in this club, it’ll end badly. Her heart will get broken, she’ll quit her job, and I’ll never see her again. It’s happened before and I’ve never given any of those women a second thought, but she’s different. I’m not sure why but I intend to find out.

  “Tell me, Sadie, what is it that made you apply here?”

  “I needed a job,” she shrugs, “I came here with a friend a couple nights ago and assumed the tips would be decent. So, here I am.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re joining us. We’ve got a great group of people and I think you’ll fit in perfectly.”

  When we reach the front of the club, I flag down a taxi for Sadie and bid her farewell, until tomorrow.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and stand under the street sign, continuing to read the message I was on.

  It's not you, it’s me. I’m sorry, Reed. I love him.

  It’s been over a year, but the sting still burns just as bad today, maybe worse. This is exactly why I will never fall in love again. Not because Bree left me for another man, but because she left me the day of Dad’s funeral. It burns bad, but not in a painful way—in a fucked up spiteful way. Women are the enemy. They beg us to open up, to feel, and when we do, they stomp on our hearts like a lit cigarette on a sidewalk.