Page 4 of Platinum Love: A BWWM Romance

As the manager of the front end, I am working all night to ensure it runs without a single issue. Tonight could easily triple the bar earnings for the week and a sweet bonus for me. A bonus I need to live in Austin, which was no easy feat. Especially with covering private school tuition for my niece and college courses for himself. Bills added up faster than I can earn it.

The meeting released shortly after and I made my way back to the front. I walked through all the stations pleased at the way the night is coming together. Every holiday, and every event seems to grow from the last.

The doors open and in less than fifteen minutes the place is packed.

Yuki and Jazz round the corner with their matching baby bumps. I paused to watch the two in action. They pass me, Jazz giving me a supportive squeeze on the arm. I’m thankful for finding such a great job and then I see her.

Hunter Preston.

Her crew is like watching a clothed Victoria’s Secret commercial, minus the fan. The women stand in the doorway, and the chatter in the bar lowers to a hush. All of them were dimes, and Hunter is the ring leader. From her slick hair to her black heels, she is perfection, and she knows it.

Hunter tosses her head back covering her ruby lips leaning into one of her girls. Then the ripple of her laughter crosses the room sending shockwaves through my body. I have no business wanting her. And the list of reasons is endless.

Rumor has it that Hunter is a millionaire. A MILLIONAIRE. And I’m a man struggling to raise a child and take college classes on the weekends. I’m living my best life if I can get a good sitter and a cold beer on the same day.

Judging by the men she’s brought in over the past year, I’m not her type. She likes her men in suits and ties with deep pockets. Matching socks and clean underwear and my daughter happy are my only prerequisites. Jeans and t-shirts take care of the rest.

And I’ve never seen her with a white guy. I shrug crossing the room to take over the bar. I’ve dated women of all races. I don’t discriminate, especially after my sister’s death. Life is too short to get hung up on skin color. You have to take happiness anyway you can get it, because it's not guaranteed.

But my body ignores the list. Those hips, that ass, call to the man in me especially with her full lips painted in that shiny lip gloss. My mind has no problem imagining her lipstick stained across my body.

My eyes sweep the length of her body once more knowing it would never happen. Pre-Zoe I would have been all over Hunter. But now I’m up to my eyeballs in tutus, dance recitals, play dates, and volunteering at Zoe’s preschool. I’m thankful for having such a flexible job. I handle most of my paperwork and office tasks while she’s in school and cover the shifts after she’s in bed. I couldn’t ask for a better setup, except for all the energy and effort I’ve put into raising Zoe means I’ve lost myself in the shuffle. It also means women like Hunter Preston are no longer an option for me.

The activity in the room picks up as the speed daters move like a herd of cattle to the VIP lounge. I sent half of my waiters and a bartender to work in there. I’ll hold down the main bar on my own because it makes the time move faster.

I fix drinks, pass out roses, and interact with the customers. Then I smell her scent. I glance over, and Hunter is sitting at my bar. She has on a badge for speed dating, but she looking out over the crowd in a daze. I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to shock her.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” I pick up a rose. “For you.” A bright smile crosses her lips.

“Thank you, Ben.” She turns to the bar, lifting the rose to her nose. The flicker of the candles on the bar gives her a soft glow. Up close she doesn’t look like herself. There’s no light in her eyes. “Can I get my regular?”

“No problem. But we have a special drink menu tonight. Let me make you something special.”

“I’d like that.”

I nod, reaching for the vodka and a cocktail shaker. “Do you like chocolate covered strawberries?”

“What girl doesn’t?” The woman flirts like a champ. I’ve watched her knock out many men with a bat of those lashes.

I add the vodka, strawberry puree, and the other ingredients into the shaker by memory. I make the drink appreciating the view of her up close. I lay down a napkin and present the glass with a little chocolate strawberry tuile.

Hunter smiles dropping her clutch on the bar. She takes a sip, and a moan passes between us. I step closer to the bar to hide the effect the sound has on me.

“That good?”

“Yes, that good.”

Yuki makes the final call for speed dating participants from across the room and I glance back at Hunter. The glass is back on the napkin, empty.

“I’ll take another.” She places her card on the bar.

The part of my job I never expected is all the details I learn about people’s lives over a drink. I’ve witness proposals, heard about divorces. I’ve seen people drink more than their fair share due to happiness, sadness, life changes, and more often than not defeat. And Hunter has that look on her face.

“Want to talk about it?” I make another drink. She takes a long drag and opens her mouth to respond.

“Jo, come on, girl. Let’s take a picture.” Baddie number two insists, and Hunter gives an Instagram worthy pucker and the three pose for endless pictures. Passing phones back and forth, examining the camera rolls.

“Ben, can you take one of us?”

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