Power Play. Beverly LongЧитать онлайн книгу.
two rounds of drinks and they walked out without paying.”
“Are you on the hook for that tab?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t happen very often. But rent is due next week, so the timing was bad.”
“How much do you need?” he asked.
She looked startled. “You don’t even know me.”
“You’re Anthony’s little sister,” he said. “I would give him the shirt off my back. I can certainly float you some rent money.”
She stared at him. Her sexy mouth in the shape of a small O.
And he felt something shift. Something inside of him.
“Mr. Riker, I can pay my own bills,” she said, her tone a little frosty.
Damn. “If it makes you feel better, I’d have been willing to charge you outlandish interest,” he said, wanting to get back to where they’d been before he’d offered the money. He sure as hell hadn’t meant to offend her.
“Tell my brother that I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll call him...really soon.”
Trey picked up his phone, held it out to her. “I already did.”
She read the message. “Very efficient.”
It didn’t sound as if she meant it as a compliment.
“Well,” she added, “good night.”
He rather desperately wanted to run his hands through her long blond hair to see if it was as silky as it looked. That likely made him no better than the drunk at the table.
“Right. Good night,” he said.
He watched her walk away. Waited until her attention got snagged by a new table in the corner. Then he raised his hand, got the bartender’s attention, and pointed to his glass. “One more,” he said.
* * *
Kellie McGarry remembered Trey Riker. And given that she’d been twelve and had only met him once, somebody might think that was odd. But she remembered every trip to drop off Anthony. Every tearful goodbye.
It had been Anthony’s sophomore year. When they’d arrived at his dorm, Trey was already there, had already hung an ugly picture of flying pigs on his wall.
She hated that college. Hated that it was taking her brother away from her. It didn’t matter that they’d already been through the drill the previous year. Having him home for the summer had made it a fresh wound.
Anthony had been her hero. Still was.
Which made it seem impossible that he was involved in this thing. But the proof had been there in black and white. She couldn’t call him. Not until she figured out what to do.
She walked through the bar, checking on her tables. People generally sipped drinks at Lavender. Beer went for ten bucks, wine and well drinks for thirteen and brand-name cocktails for sixteen. The bill got big fast if you were pounding them back.
Every once in a while, there would be somebody who was in a mood to be overserved, but the bartenders at Lavender were well trained to deal with that. Hagney and Bryce, the two behind the bar tonight, wouldn’t hesitate to turn somebody away if necessary.
She assumed it was Hagney who had talked too much to Trey. Since her very first night at Lavender four months ago, they’d clicked. Not romantically. He had a wife and two little boys at home. But they’d become good friends really fast. He’d been super angry on her behalf when the table had skipped. He probably would have hidden it but the assistant manager had been on the floor and had seen it go down.
It was likely that part of Hagney’s indignation had stemmed from her reaction, which on most nights would have been quiet indignation that somebody could be so inconsiderate. Tonight, a few tears had slipped out. She’d made up the excuse about rent money being tight, both to Hagney and to Trey later, but that wasn’t the truth. Well, not the whole truth. Rent money was always tight but the tears had slipped out for a much simpler reason.
Lately, she’d felt like crying about everything.
But to tell anybody that, and tell them why, could be disastrous. If she was wrong, she’d be making a serious allegation against people who wouldn’t forget her lapse. She could kiss her job goodbye. Maybe any job because that kind of thing would follow a person. She’s the one, people would whisper. Can you believe she made a mistake like that? Anthony would be incredulous that she could ever suspect him of something so heinous. It would ruin their relationship.
If she was right, however, it would be worse. How was she going to face her mother, face everyone who cared about Anthony? Didi was her godchild for goodness’ sakes.
Trey Riker had been quick to offer a loan. Seemed as if it was an authentic offer which, for just a second, had touched her. But then she thought of her most recent conversation with Rodney Ballure. I know you appreciate the limb I’m perched on because I offered you this job. The words themselves were not horrible, but the way he’d said them made her feel uneasy. His tone had been suggestive. As if there was some expectation of repayment.
She wasn’t going to get into another situation like that with one of Anthony’s friends. Although, Trey was considerably more handsome than Rodney. His light brown hair had a good cut that made the most of the thick texture. The lights in Lavender had picked up the natural gold highlights. Great bone structure, with a wide jaw and a very nice mouth. Dark lashes meant to make every girl in the room jealous.
When she’d first arrived in Vegas, she thought about how nice it might be to meet a guy. She would be twenty-nine in two weeks. Most of her friends were either married or in serious relationships. She’d dated, of course, and had one rather long relationship that had fizzled out in the end. But she’d been mostly busy getting a doctorate degree. It had taken a couple extra years because she’d worked a series of part-time jobs—waitressing, retail, telemarketing, you name it—to offset the expense of her degree. But now she had her first real job.
And as she’d unpacked her boxes at her new apartment, looking out at the low mountains that surrounded Vegas, she’d been excited about the possibilities. Romance. Marriage. A child. That last bit was all sweet little Didi’s fault. Nothing better than the pudgy arms of a baby around your neck.
It could be so good.
But now, six months later, she couldn’t think of any of those things.
She needed to stay sharp. Watchful.
Which was why Trey needed to take his offers down the street. In this town, there would be plenty of takers.
She stopped at the two-top in the far corner. The newly arrived couple was holding hands across the table. They were in their early thirties. Both wanted champagne with a side of chocolate-dipped strawberries. The woman was busy looking at her ring finger that had a sparkly diamond on it.
“Congratulations?” she ventured.
They both beamed. “We got married today,” said the man. “Didn’t tell a soul we were doing it. Got on a plane in Chicago, arrived at three and here we are.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said, meaning it. Just because circumstances had put her life on hold, it didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for others.
On her way to enter the newlyweds’ order, the three men who’d been initially fairly polite but, after five beers each, were getting rather obnoxious, waved her over. She kept a smile on her face. Earlier, when the one had grabbed her butt, she’d quickly stepped away. Hadn’t made a scene. Things like that happened in bars. But there was a line and she thought these three might be just about to cross it.
She kept a safe distance. “Ready for your check?” she asked.
“Hell no, darling,” said the one who hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. He smiled at her. “Come closer,” he said. He patted his leg.