Page 4 of Ensnared
"Nope. I have my own pen." He pulled a gold pen from his pants pocket and she couldn't help but notice the lean taper of his waist.
Even through his white button-down and the black vest all the bartenders were expected to wear, she could see that he took meticulous care of his body. His narrow waist and broad shoulders told anyone looking he spent hours in the gym. Eve had to stop herself from making a face. Guys like him were the worst kind of men. Yeah, they looked good, but that was about it. He probably drank protein shakes for breakfast and did lines of whey powder in the bathroom.
Just the absolute worst.
Pulling her gaze from him, she glared back at the drawer. Well, he couldn't be the thief because her pens were just an assortment of random pens she had collected—or perhaps stolen from the bank by her house—over time.
"Fine," she huffed, snapping the drawer shut. "I'll be back," she announced. She would go ask Ms. Marcy, a nice older waitress who loved to talk about her long-forgotten showgirl days. She would definitely have a pen to loan her if she was on duty.
"I'll let you borrow mine," Dimitri drawled from behind her.
That stopped her. Turning back to him, Eve gave him a suspicious look. She began to say that wasn't necessary when he cut her off. Taking a step closer, he dropped his wintry blue gaze down to her.
"But I want it back." Twirling the pen between his long fingers, he kept his gaze trained on her. "No disappearing at the end of your shift like you normally do. This is my special managerial pen."
Her eyes darted from the pen back up to his overly polite smile. There was something dangerous in his waiting expression that told her not to trust him for one second. But she really needed a pen though. There were too many people who needed all types of drink orders for her to remember. And there was a chance Marcy wasn’t on duty.
"Fine," she groaned. Going against her better judgment, Eve held out her hand. "I'll be sure to give back your precious manager pen to you by the end of the day," she added.
A part of her expected him to touch her as he handed over the pen, to use it as an excuse for contact like most men would. Instead, Dimitri dropped the heavy gold pen into her hand, not touching her at all.
She couldn't help but give him a curious look. Such a strange and annoying man. Although she thought to herself as she walked away, it was a little refreshing that he wasn't a pervy creep.
By the time her last break rolled around, she was more than ready to go home. Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, she tried not to pay too much attention to her uniform as she smoothed down some of the flyaway curls on top of her head. Because if she did, she would start asking herself hard questions like:"How the hell did you get here?"and"What am I doing with my life?"
Eve closed her eyes and whispered. "No."
She wouldn’t go down that path. Using the techniques she learned from her three free therapy sessions she couldn't afford to continue, Eve tried to reframe the encroaching negative thoughts.
"Your life isn't over. You just had a bad breakup that disrupted your plans. But I'm strong," she said, even if the words rang false in her ears. "I have a plan," she whispered, repeating the words over and over again in her head.
The alarm on her phone blared. Time to get back to work.
Twenty minutes later, she was back at the bar for a second round of drink orders.
"I need two Coors Light, one Anheuser, and three apple martinis," Eve grumbled, her fatigue evident in her voice.
Dimitri chuckled, his electric blue eyes glancing over at the rowdy group of elderly ladies in the far corner. "Let me guess, the martinis are for the three ladies wearing the penis t-shirts?"
Eve rolled her eyes, unable to control the sudden bout of jealousy. "Yeah, it's a bachelorette party tonight. She's seventy-five, and this is her third marriage."
Again, the intrusive thoughts from earlier threatened to take over. Here she was a college graduate in Computer Science working as a cocktail waitress after recently getting dumped by her ex whom she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Eve took a deep breath and held it firmly behind her sealed lips.Breathe, she told herself. She let out the air in a discreet whoosh and repeated the process a few more times.
You can have your nightly panic attack when you get home, she told herself.Not here. Not now.
Dimitri smiled as he filled up two of the glasses with foaming amber liquid, not noticing her near breakdown. "Third time's a charm."
Setting the beers onto her tray she gave him a tired look. "Is it really? Because here I was betting on the second time around."
His eyes met hers and she could see a shadow of surprise and something along the line of intrigue before he blinked and it was gone. Knowing she said too much, she stepped back from the bar with just the beers, promising to come back for the rest.
The rest of the night passed by without issue. The bachelorettes were still partying hard at the slot machines when she stopped by the bar to drop off her tray for the night.
Dimitri was standing there leaning against the counter, his expression one of friendly patience as he watched her walk forward. The man didn't even look tired, which was just downright wrong. How could he work a six-hour shift and not be dead on his feet?
As she got closer, she remembered the pen and pulled it from her collar where she had it clipped.
"Here is your pen back. Thanks for letting me borrow it."
