“Kenrick sent me to fetch a bottle of Ballantine’s and you’re in my way.”
This girl would never speak to me like this if she was from here and knew who I was. She’d show me respect. “Can’t you see what’s happening here?”
“Unfortunately, it’s something I can never unsee.” She points to my left. “I’m certain she can still give you a first-class blow job eighteen inches in that direction.”
Neither of us makes a move and she huffs. “Look, all the leaves on my give-a-fuck tree have fallen. It’s been a long day. I’ve been grabbed and fondled by strange men for the last six hours. Some old geezer slipped his hand up my skirt and I had to smile and kindly encourage him to remove it … instead of breaking his face with my fist. I’m tired. I just want to finish my job so I can go home and have one or a dozen glasses of wine and then pass out. I’m not asking for much.”
This lass’s behavior is absurd—and highly entertaining. I shove my cock back in my pants and step out of her way. “You heard Miss MacAllister. We’re in her way.”
Geneen laughs but not because she’s amused by this American called Bleu. “Oh, hell no. I’m not moving,” she says, arms crossed and still kneeling.
“Then you should probably expect this to be hugely unpleasant,” Bleu says.
“Really?”
I’m caught completely off guard when Bleu punches Geneen directly in the center of her face, knocking her to the floor, and then kicks her in the gut. She doesn’t give her another glance as she reaches over her crumpled body. I watch her grab a bottle of whisky and inspect it. “I believe this will do nicely.” She sashays toward the door, calling back over her shoulder, “Carry on.”
I burst into laughter as I help Geneen from the floor. “The girl must be certifiably crazy, but my God, that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since … ever.”
“Are you kidding me?” Geneen touches her face. “I think that bitch broke my nose.”
I look at her and confirm her suspicion. Her nose is definitely no longer in the center of her face. “I fear you’re right. Looks broken to me.”
“I’m kicking her arse,” Geneen growls as she starts for the door.
I grab her arm but not because I fear for Bleu’s safety. I’m certain she can do a right nice job of protecting herself. “There will be none of that, I’m afraid.”
Bleu has greatly lifted my mood so I’m feeling far too generous to give a penance fuck or start a fight. “Get out of here. Take McLain with you and never come back.”
Chapter Three
Bleu MacAllister
I’m serving ale to four of The Fellowship members when I see Sinclair return from the storage room. My back is to him but I watch his reflection in the mirror behind the bar as he returns to the table to sit with Leith and Jamie. I eye him carefully, not allowing him to see I’m observing him, but I read his lips: “I handled Geneen. She won’t be coming back here again.”
Jamie and Leith respond but I can’t see their mouths.
I return to my station and watch Sinclair’s mouth from afar. “That American you hired is passionate about her job.” He recounts the events in the storage room and their laughter reverberates through the bar. Good. I’m glad they find me amusing.
They drink until all the patrons are gone and only employees remain. Lorna is instructing me in the last of the closing duties when Leith comes over to send us home for the night. “About finished, lasses?”
“Close enough,” Lorna says. “I’ll show you the rest tomorrow.”
We go to the tiny hole in the wall called a break room and fetch our things.
“Can I get a ride home, Leith?” Lorna asks. “My car is in the shop.” I get the distinct impression that a lift home isn’t the only thing she’s talking about.
“I was going to take Bleu home since it’s her first night.”
There’s no way I’m getting into a car with Leith Duncan. He’s put his hands on my ass no fewer than a half-dozen times. If he does it again, I’m going to kick the shit out of him and I doubt it would be well received for me to whip my boss’s ass on the first day. Plus it would jeopardize the connection I’m trying to make with Sinclair. “Thank you for the offer but I’m fine. It’s a short walk, not more than ten minutes at most.”
“I want to take you home,” he insists. Right—and then come up for a nightcap fuck? No, thank you.
“Another time, boss.” I put my bag on my shoulder and walk toward the exit, my signal to let him know this discussion is over. “See you tomorrow.”
I go out the door and walk in the direction of my faux late-aunt’s house. It’s really the furnished flat of a woman who recently died but it’s what I’ll call home for the next two to three months.
The flat was a nice score. Every once in a while, the moon and stars align perfectly. And this was that one time for me. The flat’s owner was a terminally ill elderly lady with no living relatives. She once lived in Tennessee, two cities over from my grandparents. If her life is investigated by The Fellowship, everything they’ll find will lead them to believe I’m telling the truth.
I’m no more than two minutes into my walk when a black luxury sedan creeps alongside me. The windows are tinted darker than night so I can’t see inside. I suspect it’s Leith making one last attempt to drive me home.
The back passenger window lowers and luck is with me. It’s Sinclair. “Get in.”
This guy is used to getting everything he wants so I think it’s time I make things interesting. “Thanks for the exceptionally courteous invite, but no thanks. I’ll walk.”
Do I think Sinclair Breckenridge gives a shit if I make it home safely? No. Do I think he wants to know where I live so he can ransack my place while I’m not there? Absolutely. And he can knock himself out trying to discover a hole in my story but he won’t find one.
I spin to walk away but hear him call out behind me. “Get in. Please.” He sounds as though it pains him to say that word. Good. He should learn a little humility. It would serve him well.
I hesitate for a moment, as though I’m thinking it over before I get into the car with him. “I couldn’t decline your invitation since you said please.”
“I’ll need to remember that in the future.”