Page 4 of A Sip of Sin

“I’m—um.” Hollen ducked his head. He’d attempted to work at a country club once, but after avoiding the patrons for the majority of his shift because of the sheer intimidation of their wallets, he’d never returned.

But he was desperate—more than that. A few more poor choices or accidental words and they would be on the street. “I’m looking for a job. Are you hiring?”

Silence hung in the air, thick and prodded only by the tinkling of glasses and the gentle noises from beyond the room that must’ve been from the kitchen. When Hollen looked up, he saw the narrowed eyes and the smirk at the edge of the man’s lips, the withering glance giving everything away.

Hollen flushed, his hands deep in his pockets. A drop of water was crawling its way down his neck, slipping between his shoulders along the only place where his shirt wasn’t plastered to him.

The man raised one brow, letting out a huff. “Why should I hire someone who disturbs the peace of my establishment with wet clothes and an absurd idea? That blush won’t fool me.”

Hollen snapped his eyes up, amping his glare to its full strength.Who does he think he is? I’m adorable when I blush.He’d dealt with assholes before, but three seconds in and this guy was alreadyunreal.

“I know how to wait tables and do dishes,” said Hollen, wincing as his rough knuckles snagged on the fabric of his pocket. “I can cook or clean—whatever you need, and I have a lot of experience doing bank deposits or counting the till.”

Hollen balled his hands into fists. As much of an asshole as the guy was, he was blatantly attractive, with broad shoulders and sculpted features. There was no telling how fit he was beneath his clothes, but they suited him, accentuating almost every part.Why are all the hot ones either assholes or straight?

“What are you doing here?” George’s voice in his skull was so loud and sudden that Hollen flinched, squinting one eye as a headache instantly pounded at his temples. “Get out of herenow.”

It was lucky that no one would hear a hint of George’s protests unless Hollen answered himself.

Two against one?Hollen let out a huff. “Let me be completely honest. I’m not going anywhere until you give me a job.” He straightened himself to his full unimpressive height, still having to crane his neck to hold the man’s gaze. There was no way he was going to be the one to look away first.

The man had the audacity to look a bit impressed, curving his eyebrow that much higher.

George grumbled, but Hollen resisted the urge to tell him off, locking his knees so he didn’t tremble under the boss’ direct gaze.

The man flicked his tied hair over his shoulder before crossing his arms. “There is nothing you can say that will convince me to hire you. You aren’t the type I’m looking for.”

Type?Anger prickled over his skin, and Hollen had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the barrage of insults to himself. “I told you I’m not leaving.”

Hollen didn’t even want to work for this guy, but he’d never been so disrespected in his life. The country club had beena testosterone-soaked place for rich assholes to flaunt their money, but all this place had was miniature sandwiches and tea.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” said George, his voice reverberating in Hollen’s skull. It was loud enough that his headache flared and enough to draw all Hollen’s attention. “Just tell him Erie sent you.”

“What?” mumbled Hollen, ducking his head to try to muffle the sound. George wasn’t usually so insistent or forceful, and he’d never heard of anyone named Erie in his life.

“Do it,” said George. “If you want to get out of this alive, just do it.”

The man was still staring at him with that same unimpressed look when he glanced back up. He tapped his fingers against his leg before waving his hand dismissively.

“Erie sent me,” said Hollen, straightening his spine at the lie. As strange as George was most days, he’d never led him astray. “He said you’d have a job for me.”

The man paused halfway through turning away, pinching his eyebrows together. He dragged his gaze along Hollen’s body once more, pausing just below his face. Hollen had the strangest urge to cover his neck as his skin prickled, his heart rate picking up.

A few others had started to notice them, the man in green sending an interested look their way as he sipped at his tea. When his eyes sparkled, Hollen’s flush deepened.

“How do you know my son?” asked the man. With two steps he had Hollen crowded against the door. The knob out of reach and his escape hindered, Hollen pressed his back against the smooth wood, the designs aching against his skin as he avoided being touched. His heart beat faster, panic curling in his gut.

“Tell him you met him in the mountains,” said George, his voice strained within Hollen’s mind. He was probably exhaustedfrom saying so much when he’d already been so chatty earlier. Sometimes a single sentence left George quiet for days.

“I met him in the mountains,” said Hollen, dragging his teeth over his lip at the sour taste the lie left. “We became friends, and he told me about you and this place. He knew I needed a job, and he said you wouldn’t turn me away.”

When did I become such a good liar?On the inside he was trembling, his gut molten but his hands shaking. His cheeks were hot, his lip sore from his incessant biting. Adair would be so proud of him.

“If you know my son so well, then you must know my name, at least,” said the man, reaching into his pocket and sliding something from within. He stared at the black watch that was dangling from a silver chain, the blood red hands seemingly frozen in time. Hollen had never seen anything like it.

“Munro,” said George, his voice barely a whisper now. He was almost gone, his presence retreating until Hollen could barely grasp him. It was similar to having something itchy stuck between his teeth, only he couldn’t scratch at the spot on his brain with a toothpick.

“Munro,” said Hollen, fiddling with a sharp hangnail with his hands still deep in his pockets. “But to be honest, he didn’t talk about you much.”

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