Page 75 of Employing Patience

And not one single person makes the move to leave.

Fuck this.

I jump down, jog down the stairs to where the main bar area is still busy, and go for the fire alarm.

Is it dramatic and over-the-top?

My dick says no, and he’s never been wrong a day in his life.

I pull the alarm with zero regrets and cringe as the shrieking hits my ears. It floods the bar with so much noise it might as well be a physical assault, and I watch as patrons lurch from their chairs and hurry to cover their ears, looking around in confusion. My bar manager, Lisa, jumps into action, ordering an evacuation, and that clawing need inside me starts to settle when my friends leave one by one.

Joey’s one of the last down the stairs, and as soon as he’s within arm’s reach, I tug him around the corner from the people lingering and draw him in close.

It only takes him a second. “You did this?”

“Well, duh. Smart, huh?”

Instead of the grudging respect for my plan that I expect, he face-palms. “I guess you forgot about—”

The sound of a siren builds over the alarm, and the smug pride I’d felt at my plan dies a quick death. “Well, fuck.”

“I thought you were smart.”

“I am.” I gesture to my crotch. “But he’s only operating with one brain cell.”

With reluctance, I pull away and head back over to switch off the alarm. Through the large front windows, it looks like most people are making their way down the street and into cars, except for the staff still lingering by the doors.

“I want it on record that this is all your ass’s fault,” I grumble, then run a hand down my face as the flashing red lights light up the bar.

Well, I’ve hit peak dickhead level, haven’t I?

It takes way longer than I want it to for me to be able to convince Rodney and his team that it was a small kitchen fire we quickly got under control. Thankfully, the kitchen closed up at eleven, so there’s no one around to corroborate my story, and after a walk-through of the area, Rodney’s satisfied there’s no risk of it restarting in another part of the building. You know. Because there isn’t even a lingering smell of smoke.

“Should we come in and start cleanup?” Lisa asks.

Given I’ve wasted half an hour on my stupid fucking evacuation, I decline. “I’ll pay you all for the rest of your shift. Go home. You, uh, deserve it. For your quick work.”

And Nevele Ounces will be making a decent donation to the fire department tomorrow, thanks to my dumb ass wasting resources.

The second the door closes and locks, I swing around to find Joey. It doesn’t look like he’s in the bar, and I swear if he’s headed home with the others, I’m going to sob into my regrets, which basically encompasses every part of tonight.

After checking to see if he hid out in the storage area around back, I climb the stairs, fingers crossed that he’s waiting for me in my office.

Only when I reach the mezzanine, I don’t have to look far. There, framed by the huge mullioned windows, is Joey, wearing nothing but a shit-eating grin.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who was desperate.”

I match his smirk, stalking closer as I undo the buttons on my shirt. His cock is flushed and standing straight upright, but it doesn’t hold my attention.

Surprisingly.

Instead, my gaze keeps returning to his face.

“You sure about this?”

Joey clears his throat, but his voice still comes out husky. “Yeah. I am.”

I nod, tossing my shirt over the back of the couch and reaching down to remove my belt. As certain as he seems, I’m still sensing hesitance or something coming from him. I pop the button on my pants and take a seat on the couch. Then I pat the space next to me.

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