Chapter 67

Christian completely ignores me as I prep his drink, taking my time and using every second of it to regain my composure. I think – or maybe just hope – that none of my shock at seeing Christian here showed on my side. That would be bad for me for sure also bad for Christian. No one – especially Edward, I assume – is supposed to know that I know who he is.

When I bring the drinks over I’m more subdued, letting the men have their little business meeting, whatever that is about. I simply slip the tumbler of whiskey next to Christian’s hand and slip away. But I don’t miss the fact that Edward’s eyes flick from Christian’s face to me as I turn, a little smile on his lips.

My back is to them before I get a chance to see how Christian responds to that – or if he responds to that. And as I walk back towards the center of the bar I admit that I have no idea what his response would be anyway. Christian certainly wasn’t happy to see me flirting with Edward but…I mean, why? I’m just acting on his father’s orders – doing my job. Is he angry because he’s trying to protect me?

Or is he…well, is he jealous?

I sigh as I start doing some mindless bar work, polishing glasses and making sure that all of our supplies are stocked, wondering what to do next and spacing out a little bit.

“Their drinks are low,” Andre growls behind me and I jump a little, spinning towards him. “What’s wrong with you!?” He gestures subtly to where Christian and Edward are sitting. “What part of ‘anything he wants’ and ‘full service’ don’t you understand!? This isn’t Applebees! You need to be on him, making sure that drink is full!”

“Well one, Andre, it’s like, one o’clock in the afternoon, I doubt he wants another double of whiskey as he probably drove here.” I glare at my boss, but do my best to otherwise keep my body language cool and collected. “And second, there’s rather a conflict of interest here! Romano wants me to give ‘full service,’ but Christian – in whose apartment I’m living, I’ll remind you – is definitely going to want me to give anything but full service.”

Andre huffs a sigh from his nose and closes his eyes, clearly frustrated. “You and your boy drama, Bambi, honestly – you’re messing with my entire life.”

“Oh, you’re exaggerating,” I sigh, tucking the towel in my hands back under the bar and turning towards where Christian and Edward sit, apparently deep in conversation. “And if you’re not, then you need to get a life, ‘Dre.”

Andre glares at me as I turn and walk over to Edward and Christian sit, my hands clasped primly behind my back. “Are we ready for another?” I murmur, timing my arrival for a convenient lull in the conversation.

“No,” Christian says, definitive but not unfriendly as he gives Edward a nod. “I think we’ve made good progress here?”

“Sure have,” Edward says, smiling at my friend as Christian stands up and starts to pull on his coat.

“Drinks on my tab, Bambi,” Christian murmurs, starting to do up the buttons to his coat and looking towards the door.

“Well in that case,” Edward says, waiting a moment to speak until Christian has pulled the keys out of his coat pocket. “Perhaps I’ll stay and have another. Nice in here – like my father said it would be.” He lets his eyes drift back to me. “Stunning, even.”

Christian hesitates now and I go still behind the bar, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“Well,” Christian says, moving back towards his chair. “I’ll just –“

“No, no,” Edward murmurs, waving a hand at Christian. “Clearly you’ve got places to be, Chris – it’s no big deal. I’m sure…what’s your name?” He gives me a slow smile. “Bambi?”

A little anxious, I nod.

“Yes, Bambi here can keep me company.”

Christian gives a sharp sigh through his nose and I look into Edward’s dark eyes, kind of impressed at how prettily he managed that. “Whatever he wants, Bambi,” Christian says, keeping his voice friendly as he turns back towards the door, “it goes on my tab.”

My eyes move back to Christian, noting the possessive tone of his voice, letting me know that he’s not only claiming Edward’s drinks but my involvement with him too. Christian’s message couldn’t be clearer – even though he can’t sit down now without awkwardly admitting that he’s very, very clearly trying to interrupt Edward’s plan to get to know me, he’s telling me that I’m only allowed to provide Edward with things that can be put on Christian’s tab. Drinks, snacks.

Anything else? Off limits.

“Of course,” I murmur, giving Christian a sunny smile. He just narrows his eyes slightly, nods, and then says further goodbyes to Edward before striding out of the bar.

“So,” I say with a little sigh, turning back to Edward and wondering how the hell I’m supposed to manage this. “Another of the same?”

“Sure, Bambi,” he murmurs, smiling at me. “But why don’t you make it here, so I can watch how you do it?”

I laugh a little, because we’re both very aware that it takes no great skill to pour bourbon in a glass. But I do as he asks, bringing the bottle and a fresh glass over to his corner of the bar, chatting lightly as I prep his drink. After I serve it to him I linger for a little bit, laughing at everything he says even though half of it isn’t funny and some of it isn’t even a joke (old stripper trick, that one), and beaming at him like he’s the cleverest man in the world.

To my surprise, it works flawlessly, and by the time Edward has finished with his second glass of bourbon he is relaxed, a little smug, and looking me up and down like he’s got me right where he wants me.

Little does he know, I have him right where I want him.

I resist the urge to sigh because…I mean, it was a little too easy, wasn’t it?

“Can I interest you in another?” I ask, lifting the bottle of bourbon in suggestion and giving a little shrug, like he’d be doing me a personal favor if he consented to stay and have another glass.

“No, unfortunately,” he sighs, shaking his head and starting to stand. “I have business I’ve got to get to, after all.” He pulls out his wallet and my eyebrows rise as I stand straight. I watch closely as he pulls out a business card and a hundred-dollar bill, reaching to place both on the bar.

“Oh, no, sir,” I say, putting out a hand to block him. “The drinks are on Mr. Romano’s tab.”

“Of course they are,” he murmurs, moving his large hand around my small one and placing both the bill and the card on the table. “But he forgot to tip you, didn’t he, Bambi? And after such excellent service.” He gives me a sly smile, and I raise my eyes to his.

Because, I mean, he’s not wrong. But he has no idea that Christian doesn’t need to tip me, because he pays my rent, and buys all my clothes, and my food, and anything else I would ever ask him for.

“Thank you so much,” I murmur, leaning on the bar so that I’m closer to him, like I can’t resist it, like I want to climb across it and jump his bones right now. “That’s so generous of you.”

He stares at me for a long moment before tapping the business card with his finger. “This has my personal number on the back, Bambi,” he says, his voice low. “I want to hear from you. Tonight.”

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely surprised but also playing my part. “Tonight?”

“Tonight,” he repeats, raising his hand to my face and quietly grasping my chin between his fingers like it’s just the start of something, like I’m already his. “Don’t disappoint me.”

And then, without another word, Edward Marino turns, drops his hand from my face, and walks away without another word or a glance over his shoulder.

I admit it – this time, I’m the one watching him to go.

I sigh, wrapping my hand around the hundred dollar bill and the card, and then turn around to see Frankie watching my every move.