Page 11 of Whiskey Neat

I barely noticed in my lustful stupor. “We don’t have a position for him yet. We don’t have our business plan finished or our budget.”

“I do,” Lowen says. “It’s kind of my thing. I was gonna go over our operating budget with you all after the construction crew got here. I reviewed it with my financial adviser and got his stamp of approval.”

“Oh.”

“And we got the bank accounts set up yesterday,” Jerryn says. “We’re meeting with the payroll company this afternoon at two.”

“We could find out if Salem is good at inventory and ordering,” Lowen suggests. “He could find suppliers for us and take that off our plate while we work on design, hiring, and infrastructure.”

“There’s a lot to do in the next two months,” Bane says. “He could help. Maybe we could give him a leadership position of some kind.”

“We don’t know a damn thing about him,” I say.

“We know his vibe and it’s good,” Ridley says. “I learned a long time ago that most hiring decisions are gut based. People can lie their way through an interview, but their vibe is their vibe. I say we give Salem a shot. Worse case, he doesn’t work out and you get to bang him.”

“I’m clearly outnumbered.”

“You’d want to hire him too if you weren’t so worried about your libido,” Lowen says. “Besides, we need eye candy here. I’ve seen all of you a hundred times.”

Blowing out a breath, I try to look annoyed, but I’m secretly excited to see the gorgeous, intriguing man again. “Fine. Who wants to call him?”

“Oh, that’s all you, Indy.” Kit grins. “As if he wants to hear from any of us.”

“This is gonna be fun to watch,” Ridley says.

“So glad I can amuse you.”

The door opens again, but this time it’s a brawny contractor. At least I’ll be distracted while I consider how to approach calling Salem to offer him a job and not a position riding my dick.

FOUR

SALEM

Several minutes after leaving the bar, I’m still sitting in my car trying to get my shit together. The man inside is literally all my fantasies embodied in one person. Tall—like, really tall—ruggedly gorgeous, with a jawline like the edge of a cliff, and eyes so beautiful and blue you could swim in them. And he’s queer? Fuck me sideways, the gay gods are finally shining down on me.

I need a job more than I need another man in my life, but there’s no talking my dick out of it. I’ll take whatever Indy—geez, what a name—offers me. Job? Yes, please. Dick? Abso-fucking-lutely.

A construction truck pulls up to the curb behind me and a big mountain of a man steps out wearing a shirt at least one size too small with the words Studs and Caulk Construction in big black letters on the back. I snort a laugh and finally manage to start the car. Borrowing my mom’s fancy Mercedes isn’t the worst thing about being back home.

I really hope taking a chance on walking in there pays off. I don’t exactly love the idea of waiting tables again, but desperate times and all that. I’ve got to start digging my way out of the hole somehow, and I’d rather work in a bar close to home than schlep back to New Onyx to do it. I’d spend more in gas than I’d make.

I can’t lie to myself and say I don’t want to see the sexy co-owner again, and one thing about me is that when I set my sights on something, I’ll do just about anything to get it. Indy in my bed just rose to the top of my vision board, and based on the way he was looking at me I’m pretty sure he’s interested too. Fuck, please let that man be single. It wouldn’t be fair to dangle all that deliciousness in front of my face then drop a ‘not available’ bomb on me.

Shaking my head, I pull away from the curb and drive a few blocks down to the stores lining the streets. I’m going to prime the universe in my favor and buy a box of condoms. See, powers that be? I’m ready for some man action. After all, the best way to get over one man is to get under another, right? Honestly, I’m long over my ex, but I have yet to jump back on the proverbial horse in the sex department.

There’s a store that caught my eye as I drove past earlier looking for hiring signs. The sign above it, For the Love of Love, is intriguing, to say the least. After parking, I pop inside, inhaling the subtle floral scent in the air. Nice. There’s nothing but a counter and a thick deep pink velvet curtain blocking further view into the space. What is this?

The curtain parts and a very pretty woman steps out, a big smile on her face. Her hair is blond and she’s wearing a tight tank top with equally tight jeans. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. What is this place? A store?”

She nods, tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “An intimate store. Are you looking for something in particular?”

“No, more generally, but this is the right place.”

Her face lights up. “I’m Cameron.”

“Salem.”

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