Page 4 of Boss Daddy

She’s checking me out in equal measure, as if trying to figure out if I pass some sort of secret test.

A jolt of heat slams through me, shocking and unwelcome. I don’t do instant attraction. It complicates things, makes me reckless. But right now, my body doesn’t give a damn.

I grit my teeth, tamping down the urge to get closer.

Someone shuffles in behind me, mumbling. It’s Jerry, one of our regulars. His steps are unsteady, and he reeks of last night’s whiskey.

“Bathroom,” he says. “Gotta pee.”

Man’s already had his booze for the day. I barely look at him. “Go to the bathroom, Jerry, then go straight home. You’re not getting any drunker than you already are. At least not on my property.”

He nods like he understands, even though we both know he’s going to cause trouble before he leaves.

James, my second-in-command, walks over just as Jerry stumbles away, his smirk already in place. “Was that Jerry?”

“Yep. He’s taking a leak. Keep an eye on him, and make sure to let Ben know he’s not getting another drop of booze here. Call him a damn Uber if you have to.”

“Got it, boss.”

“What’s her story?” I ask, subtly nodding my head to the woman at the bar.

“That’s Erin. The bartender interviewee.”

I blink, the name hitting me like a bucket of cold water.Erin, not Aaron.I’d assumed she’d be a man. But she’s definitely not.

Something hot and sharp curls low in my chest. I let my gaze linger a second longer, taking in the way she holds herself—strong, steady, and completely unbothered by the fact that two men are eyeing her from across the room.

A flicker of something I can’t name slides beneath my skin. Maybe it’s the way she hasn’t fidgeted once, or how her eyes stay locked on mine, unblinking. She’s not easily intimidated.

I like that.

My eyes never leaving hers, I head over.

“Yes?” she asks. “Can I help you?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out, actually. Samuel Holt,” I introduce myself.

She nods and offers her hand. I take it. The electricity from our touch is impossible to ignore.

“Erin Russo,” she says. “Pleased to meet you.”

I slide onto the stool next to her. “I have to admit, you’re not what I expected.”

“Good,” she replies without missing a beat. “I hate being predictable.”

I let her words hang in the air between us.I hate being predictable.The way she says it, a sly glint in her eyes, makes me want to know everything she’s hiding beneath that cool exterior. I could spend hours unraveling that confidence, finding out what makes her break, what makes her beg. But right now, I need to focus on the interview.

“So, you’re looking for a bartending gig,” I start.

“That’s why I’m here.”

I nod toward the expanse of the club behind me. “You think you can handle this place?”

Her eyes flash, the challenge unmistakable. “I’ve handled worse.”

“Why here?” I ask. “Why this club? There are plenty of places in the city where you could work. Why are you interested in working at my joint?”

“Well, Steel’s the hottest new club in Denver. You’ve only been open for a few months and you’re already doing killer business. Figure this is the place to be if I want to make some money.”

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