Page 24 of Love and Other Lost Things

The man wore a tight white T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and a pair of jeans that hugged his trim thighs. In the dark, blueish light, his hair looked almost black, curling from under the edges of a beat-up LA Dodgers hat, and over the nape of his neck. He reached up to brace himself in the doorway, and the muscles in his biceps contracted.

Jane’s breath hitched. He was without a doubt the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Though she’d always thought Nik was good-looking, he was a boy, and this… Well, this was a man. He was probably at least thirty.

Jane was left momentarily speechless. “I—” she stuttered.

The man let go of the doorframe and crossed the room to where Jane stood gripping the back of a barstool for balance. “Are you lost?”

“No.” Even in that one syllable, Jane heard her voice shake. “No, I’m, uh…”

Get it together. This is your chance. The thrift store clothes hadn’t been expensive, but she was dead broke so they might as well have cost millions. She wasn’t here to stare at a beautiful man with her mouth hanging open. She needed this job.

Jane let go of the barstool and stood up straight. “I’m here for the server job.”

The man stopped in front of her, and Jane had to tilt her head back to look up at him. A slightly amused smile slanted across his face. “You are, huh?” He had smooth bronze skin, high cheekbones, and inky lashes a mile long.

“That’s right.” She wobbled on her heels, undermining the confidence in her voice.

“Have you ever worked as a server before?”

Jane was tempted to stare over his shoulder but forced herself to look him in the eye. “Of course I have.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” she said without hesitation, glad she’d practiced that on the way over.

The man’s gaze swept over her, heating every part of her it touched. “What’s your name?”

“Jane McCaffrey.”

“Jane, I’m Matteo.” He held out his palm, and she slipped her hand in his. It was warm, strong, reassuring somehow. “I’m the club manager. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll talk about your experience?”

The way his eyes lingered on her mouth made her feel like he was asking about more than just her previous serving jobs.

Jane slid onto a stool while Matteo rounded the bar and stopped opposite her. “Tell me about where you’ve worked as a server.”

Jane cleared her throat. “It was an Irish bar called the Harp and Fiddle in a small town you’ve never heard of.”

“Try me.”

Jane hesitated. The more honest she was, the less likely she was to mix up her story. Besides, what did this guy care about the middle-of-nowhere town where she’d grown up? What was he going to do, call her dad? “Linden Falls, New York.”

“Yeah.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Never heard of it.”

“Consider yourself lucky.” Jane felt a smile tug at her lips.

Matteo leaned an elbow on the bar. “So, Jane McCaffrey, what brought you to LA from…” He waved a hand like he’d already forgotten the name. “…East Bumfuck…?”

Jane shrugged. “You know. The usual things that bring people to LA.”

He ran a hand over his chin, stroking the hint of razor stubble. “You’re pretty enough to be an actress.”

Jane blinked at that. This beautiful man thought she was pretty? Suddenly, she was glad she’d ditched her too-big trousers and splurged on this tank top and skirt.

He shook his head. “But I don’t get the actress vibe from you.”

“I didn’t come to LA to be an actress.” Jane took a breath. “I’m a musician. A singer-songwriter.”

“Yeah? Are you any good?”

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