Page 13 of Rut Bar

The only check left is Jamie’s. I check the back room, but it’s empty, so I wander over to the bar. “Have you seen Jamie?” I ask Anthony. “I need to give him his check.” Did he dip out early to avoid me and forget it was payday?

Shit. Things are already weird, and I haven’t done anything wrong.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Anthony says while he hauls another bag of trash toward the back door. “His car’s still in the lot.”

I check everywhere backstage until the only place left is the main bathroom.Why would he use that one?That one is for customers. The staff use the private one in the back.

I pause outside the door when I hear a giggle, and then my vision goes red around the edges.He wouldn’t. No. Not Jamie. He never… Not once has he ever…

I push the men’s door open with too much force and it bangs against the wall with a sharp crack. Sure enough, the bathroom’s only stall has four feet underneath the divider. The woman in the stall with him is on her knees in front of him, and I can guess what they’re doing.

ChapterFour

VERONICA

“The bar is closed,”I say, my voice frosty and my words clipped. “It’s time to go.”

The drunk woman on her knees gasps and scrambles to her feet. Jamie reaches down to help her onto her spindly stilettos. There’s fabric rustling and then the stall door clicks open and an embarrassed curvy redhead who is suspiciously missing her white bridal sash slips past me.

Her gaze is cast down with shame, as it should be. She pushes past me without a word and I let the door go so it can shut behind me once she’s gone.

Jamie’s low-slung jeans are still unzipped but at least he’s wearing a shirt now. Judging from the impressive bulge in his pants, he’s still hard. Good. That means this drunken blowjob didn’t get very far.

“What was theone thingI asked you guys not to do while the auditor is here?” I seethe.

The skin between his brows creases. “No illegal drugs?”

My jaw aches from the way I’m clenching my teeth. “The other one thing, Jamie. The one that’s relevant to this particular situation.”

The silence stretches as he thinks. “No… no fooling around with customers backstage? But we’re not backstage. The bathroom is next to the stage.”

I reach up and pinch between my brows to stifle the headache that’s brewing. If it was anyone but Jamie, I’d call their behavior insubordinate, but Jamie is… Jamie is a golden retriever in human form. He’s sweet, loyal, caring, and he takes direction well, but you have to be very clear or he doesn’t always get it.

“The location wasn’t the point,” I say. “Theno sleeping with customerswas the point. I don’t care if it’s behind the bar or on the stage or in the bathroom or backstage. Do. Not. Fuck. Customers.”

“While the tax dude is here, yeah. I thought he left?” Jamie asks, tilting his head like he’s honestly confused.

“What if he forgot something and came back?” I ask, my voice raising. “Yesterday he showed up holding a stapler before we were open. Why would you…”

This feels like a betrayal, but that’s stupid. I’m his boss. He’s my dancer. That’s it. It doesn’t matter that he’s a scent match. He’s off limits.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh.No. It’s not my business.It’s not my place to ask why he’d do this to me. It isn’t personal.

The dancers get horny from all the omega perfumes and lust swirling in the air and I don’t mind if someone wants to sneak off to a dark corner and let off some steam so long as they’re discrete and I can pretend I don’t know it’s happening. They’re adults. They can decide what to do with their own bodies.

As long as money’s not exchanging hands for sex, then it’s all good. But not while the fucking IRS is breathing down my neck and looking for a reason to shut us down.

“You don’t want me,” he whispers.

“What?” I drop my hand and study him, my heart dropping into my stomach at the expression of devastation on his beautiful face.

“You don’t want me. I offered to… It’s fine. I’m not trying to guilt trip you or coerce you or do any of those things you aren’t supposed to do to omegas, but… it hurt to hear it, Vee. I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe this would make me forget how much my chest hurts right now. Even if it was only for a few minutes. At first I didn’t know what that woman meant and then… Well, I figured why not? Because I can smell you everywhere all over the club, and it’s driving me insane. All I can think about is falling to my knees for you. Do you have any idea how good you smell?”

“My scent’s been compared to floor cleaner and furniture polish,” I tell him.

“You smell like the ripest, sweetest, juiciest orange that was ever plucked, and I’m dying of thirst whenever I’m near you. It kills me a little inside, knowing you don’t feel the same way about me after all this time. I’m so stupid.” He drags his hands through his hair and rakes it away from his face. “Why do you think I took this job?”

“It pays well?” I say, but it comes out as more of a question than the statement I intended it to be.

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