‘I’m sure you do.’
The morning was bright and clear. The sun spread in sparkles on the water, the wind was non-existent and Daniel felt invigorated. He held the door for her at the café. She walked through it as if she’d never expected anything else. Matching him for putting on arrogant appearances.
‘Coffee?’
‘Thank you. Double, black, three sugars.’
He inclined his head and turned to the counter, his face cracking into the broadest grin as soon as he was out of her eyesight. Loose cannon. Utterly. He placed her order and his: triple shot, no sugar—nuclear amounts of caffeine to keep the tired bug at bay.
She sat in the front window of the café and stared out the window. Outwardly one might think she hadn’t been aware of his approaching return, but Daniel was studying her hard and saw her shoulders tighten, saw the way she held her fingers tightly, and then he saw she wasn’t staring out the window at all. She was staring at the reflection of him in the glass. He caught her gaze full on in the mirror-like pane. Gold meeting green. His pace slowed as he neared. Relentless observation, rising temperature.
When he set the cups down it shattered the moment. She turned away from the window and graced him with one of those sharp-edged smiles that assumed politeness. As if that searing stare had never happened.
He sat across from her.
She spoke. ‘So what do you want to know?’
Everything. What she was thinking—about him especially. Raw attraction hung like an invisible fog between them. Did she see it too?
‘Will you be able to pull it off?’
‘Yes. I’m meeting with supply reps this morning and have called the bar crew in for a meeting this afternoon. I’ll sort the DJs once I’ve spoken with the staff. The rest of the clean-up can be done by the team. Once we’re restocked we’ll be good to go. Then it’s a matter of a little promo.’
‘Promotion? You don’t have much time.’
‘The most important thing is word of mouth. If I can get the word into a few select ears, then we won’t have any problem.’
‘And can you?’
She smiled, slow and ultra-confident. ‘Sure.’
CHAPTER FIVE
You constantly monitor progress
DANIEL’S office had a sweeping view across New Zealand’s seat of power—the parliamentary buildings that stood across the road from the highest court in the country, and one of the finest law schools a quick step down the block. In that small radius, law was developed, made and upheld. And he felt right at home there. But today he could hardly wait to bust a move and head to the other side—where eclectic clothing stores lined up with funky cafés and hip clubs. Where the cool, cosmopolitan crowd from the film and fashion industries hung out—eating, drinking, dancing.
He didn’t get there anywhere near as soon as he would have liked. Meetings dragged and unexpected developments trapped him in the office. It was late into the afternoon when he finally walked down the main street towards the club. The sign said ‘closed’ but the door stood ajar. He heard Lucy’s voice as he climbed the stairs. He slowed so he could listen for a while before she was aware of his presence.
‘What I want is professionalism. I know things have been slack since Lara left but all that changes right now. You saw what happened to the old manager this week. You’ll be next if you don’t lift your game. Uniform—black. Make the most of whatever assets you have but not too unsubtle—we’re not a strip club. Look good but tidy. It’s all about attitude—but by attitude I don’t mean grumpy. We want to keep the customers happy, not turn them off with unsmiling, pouty looks. A little flirty is OK. This is a bar, people. Punters are here for a good time and a little action. Let’s get them in the mood by getting them their drink quickly, and with flair. And quickly is the most important. At the end of the day we want to make money.’
Attitude, huh? Well, she’d know all about that. He smirked at the grumpy comment. He wished the staff had seen her at the pool this morning. He reached the top of the stairs and turned into the bar. Four workers were lined up behind the bar and in front of them stood a selection of drinks—shots, cocktails, a pint of beer. He saw all that in a nanosecond. He couldn’t stop his focus closing in on her.
She stood on the punters’ side of the bar, legs slightly spread, weight evenly distributed. Jeans again—emphasising the curves that had Daniel fantasising. By all appearances she’d been putting them through their paces. Either that or they were all about to get blind drunk together. ‘Last example. Something for the drivers—lemon, lime and bitters.’
They moved at once getting glasses and mixing the drink.
The way she wore those jeans should be illegal. The combination of curvy and length was killing him. He wanted to peel the denim off her and wrap those tanned pins around his waist.
‘Always ask if they would prefer to drink straight from the bottle or in a glass. Many women like to keep the bottle and the cap these days.’
His ears pricked. An interesting point given the case he was working on.
He looked over the staff. Two men, two women. All of them good-looking. The buffest guy dropped the glass and it smashed on the ground. He threw Lucy a look of horror. Daniel’s lips twitched; she certainly had put the fear into him.
‘Sorry, L-Lucy,’ the buff guy stammered.
Lucy turned and saw he was watching. A sarcastic curl to her lips let him in on her secret laughter. He sent her a small smile back and tried to ignore the sweet feeling of conspiracy. He’d spent all his time so far verbally jousting with her and the idea of them sharing something other than conflict felt surprisingly good.
‘Don’t worry, Corey. It won’t take you long to get to grips with it all.’
Who was she kidding? The guy could hardly string a sentence together. Daniel’s hackles rose as Corey flashed Lucy a killer smile and she smiled right back.
‘OK, people.’ She turned and pointed to him. ‘This is Daniel—he’s the one who shut the place down last week and he won’t hesitate to do it again, leaving us all penniless. So let’s be nice to him and do a good job.’
Four pairs of big eyes warily looked him over. He stared back at them, poker-style. He’d spent too many days in court seeing off gang guys to feel much heat from a couple of beautiful bartenders. Lucy spoke again, giving more direction, and he took the opportunity to wander about and take in her changes. Every window was open and on the sills he saw some candles lit under oil burners. He walked over to one and sniffed. Yes. That was her—a warm, faintly exotic spice smell. He smelt it in her hair, her skin. He wondered if all of her was as delicately scented.
When he turned around the others were exiting, avoiding his eye. Lucy strolled over towards him.
He pulled his steamy thoughts in. ‘Thanks for the warm introduction.’
‘Someone has to be bad cop.’
‘I’d have thought you’d enjoy that.’
‘Oh, no. I’m always good.’
Sure she was.
‘You really think that guy’s capable of doing this job?’ He nodded his head after Corey, who’d been last to leave after sweeping away what ominously looked like more than one dropped glass.
‘Daniel, he can carry crates and he looks good.’
‘It’s all about looks?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Everybody likes to look at something beautiful.’
‘Not everybody sees beauty in the same thing.’
‘Don’t worry. He’s going to please a lot of our customers. And he can actually make a good cocktail.’ She had a smile on her face that he didn’t like. What was it about that guy that had her drooling? ‘We get the customers in the bar, they have beautiful quick service and good music. If the vibe is good, they’ll stay and pay.’
He nodded. It didn’t seem too hard an equation. ‘What are you planning to do with all those? Have your own party?’ He gestured to the line-up of glasses.
‘Unless you want them, they’re going down the drain.’ She tilted her chin—defiance in the stance. ‘It’s not a waste of stock, I needed to see what their skills were like.’