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, before raising the shot glass to her mouth and knocking back the tequila.
Trevor laughed, but the sound died as he watched the muscles in her delicate throat bounce as she swallowed the liquor. When she brought the glass down to the table, it hit with a heavy clink. How much time did he spend watching Abby while she looked absolutely sexy doing completely mundane things? “Pour me another?” he asked, shoving his glass across the bar. She did as he asked, and then she poured her own.
“You trying to get me drunk?”
“I would never think of it,” he said with a wink. “Plus, I’m not the one pouring.”
“Well, I can’t let you drink alone,” she explained carefully.
“How generous of you,” he said, laughing, and lofted his shot glass. “Sláinte,” he said. He felt the second shot hit his belly, not as harsh as the first. But he was glad that she’d selected a smoother, higher-end tequila for their bingeing. Trevor didn’t think he could handle the burn of a cheaper brand.
“What’s that?”
“An Irish toast. A cheers to good health. My old man used to say it a lot before he took a drink.”
“Sláinte,” she repeated. “I like it.”
“I’m pretty certain that neither of us can drive home now,” he took a breath, the tequila starting to hit him in the pit of his empty stomach.
Abby shrugged as she sauntered back to her table. Trevor couldn’t help but notice the sway of her hips under her short skirt. She threw a look over her shoulder. “I don’t live far. I’ll walk. And I’m not quite ready to head home to an empty apartment just yet. Plus, I’m having fun relaxing right here. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out.”
“It has been far too long,” Trevor agreed, closing the register with an authoritative slam. He finished with the cash duties by printing off the sales receipts and totaling the nightly deposit. He could officially call it another great night in the books, as he looked over the numbers. The bar was doing well in his capable hands, if he did say so himself.
He picked up a stack of bills and left the bar to sit with Abby at the booth. He cut the stack in half and passed over her share of the tips.
Abby took her money. “Nice. Thanks.”
“Pretty good night, huh?”
Abby flicked through the stack of bills with her thumb. “It sure was.”
“What are you going to do with your vast riches?” he asked her, joking, pocketing his own share.
“Well, I think I’m going to splurge on some grand luxuries.” She sighed wistfully. “You know, things like electricity, cell phone bill—ooh, there’s some really fancy bread and milk that I’ve been dying to try,” she finished with a laugh.
Trevor laughed with her, but she worried him. He frowned. “Are you doing okay, financially? I can schedule you for more hours, or I can float you a loan, if you want.”
She shook her head and put a hand on his arm. Her light touch made his heart stutter in his chest. “Trevor, I’m fine. It was just a joke. Ha-ha. Sure, it’s a little harder to pay the rent with Maya gone. But I am fine. See?” She picked up the stack of bills in front of her and waved it in Trevor’s face.
“Thanks to you, I’ve got a job where I make fat stacks of cash and I can drink for free.” For emphasis she poured two more shots. After she swallowed, she giggled. “I’ll be fine until I find a real job.” She smacked a palm to her forehead. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I know this is your job. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Abby,” he assured her, sweeping a hand through the air of the empty club. “All of this is my kingdom.”
“You certainly get your pick of the ladies in the kingdom, that’s for sure.”
Trevor frowned again. He didn’t normally use the club to pick up women. He never overserved them to make them bend to his will, and he never went for the college girls, who were always trying to get him in bed... And he never let his staff see him go home with a woman. He didn’t want to set a bad example and have them to think it was okay or an acceptable business practice. But he wondered where she got the idea that he did.
“What are you talking about?” While he had been a bit wild in the past, he wasn’t the man whore that she seemed to think he was. He hadn’t even been with anyone in months. While Trevor didn’t normally care what people thought of him, it stung that Abby had a negative opinion of him. What she thought mattered to him.
“You know,” Abby said, with a slight slur. “That woman last night, that girl in Vegas...”
When Abby trailed off, Trevor was surprised. “What girl?” It was the first time either of them had mentioned their trip to Sin City.
“That girl at Jamie’s party,” she went on. “After we parted ways, I went back to my room, you met her at the bar.”
“You came