Page 14 of Vesper Martinis

I roll my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know. Seriously.”

Brenda puts her cards on the table and turns to face me. “Listen, how much do you like this man? I mean, you said you think he hates you, but are you sure he does? Seems like this is a conversation for the two of you. But first, you have to figure out what you want or don’t want.”

I sit with her comments through the rest of the game.

What do I want? I don’t want to get hurt. And this has nothing to do with thinking Wesley will hurt me, at least not on purpose. I just think that sometimes shit happens. And if you can’t control or predict it then it isn’t worth pursuing in my book.

Maybe it’s time I let go. Take the job offer, not so I can pursue him, but so I’ll never see him again. Because Wesley is beginning to become a temptation I can’t resist. Every time I see him, I feel myself slipping, and I can’t afford to do that.

I won’t do it.

Monday night is always a slow night. Most of the customers are the usual crowd, and I watch from my perch as Wesley talks to one of the regulars. Meanwhile, Derek cleans the counter before a woman comes up and asks for a drink.

Wesley listens intently to the man who’s hunched over the bar. I can’t hear the conversation, but from what I can see, he’s comforting the man. Once in a while, he pats the guy on the shoulder and always holds the conversation while he also gets other customers their drinks.

Always polite. Always smiling.

Whenever I drag Wesley into my office he has a scowl on his face. Understandable. But it’s nice to see him look… carefree. A pang of guilt hits me. I’m genuinely being an ass. I started by not only acknowledging that I remember him but that I’ve never stopped thinking about him. And then there was my never ending nitpicking on every little thing he does.

I pull the back of my neck as the regular he was talking to finishes his drink, gives a handshake to Wesley, and leaves. Replacing the seat is a handsome man, around thirty years old, I assume. Expensive suit and quaffed hair. My hand grips harder on the rail as jealousy again does me in.

I take a few deep breaths. Reminding myself that he’s not mine. I blow out the air in my lungs, reminding myself that he can do what he wants.

I shouldn’t be letting my jealousy take me over. I should let this go. Let him go.

But then the man touches him and I see red.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

“Takana!”

Chapter 5

Wesley

“Tanaka!” Pierce shouts from his office, shocking Derek and I. “Office. Now.”

His voice leaves no debate. He seems super fucking mad. That can’t be good.

Derek glances at me and says, “Ooh, someone’s in trouble.” His tone is joking, but I’m actually worried.

This has happened before, but not in the middle of work.

I throw the towel on the counter and head up to his office, just a few steps above the main floor and to the right. The door is open, which is how we can hear him. When I step inside, Pierce is standing at a giant window overlooking the city. He’s wearing a blue suit that’s tailored to him perfectly. No socks, dark brown loafers, and when he turns, I see he’s got his tie on, but it’s loose. His hair is slicked back with gel, and his eyes look tired. He’s been looking like that for a while, as if something is bothering him.

I’m trying really hard not to give a rat’s ass.

“Shut the door,” he says in a stern voice, and fuck if it doesn’t do something to my body. It always does. As much as I hate him, my body doesn’t.

He walks to his desk and sits. His brows are furrowed, and his blue eyes are dark. His lips… fuck! Don’t think about those. The way they felt on my skin as he kissed down my spine to my—

I shift in my seat and cross one leg over the other.

Fucking hell, Wes. Don’t do that.

“What do you want?” I ask, not caring about being polite. He’s been riding my ass since he became manager. I think we’ve moved past the point of politeness.

“I just want to warn you,” he says in too calm a tone. “It’s recommended that you don’t fraternize with the clientele.”

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