“No, Lola. It’s fine. This is Bren. Bren, meet Lola. She helps out a bit around here.”
Lola can’t bring her eyes to meet mine, but I don’t think she recognizes me, so I step forward and offer my hand, but she only shakes her head and apologetically shows me the cleaning gloves covering her hands.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” says Lola. “Just, are we out of this?” she lifts a spray bottle of cleaning fluid for Sofia to see.
Sofia shakes her head. “We should have some. Try the cabinet in the office.”
“Okay. It was nice to meet you,” Lola says and keeps on working, not interrupting the few times she walks by us again.
“So, where were we?” Sofia asks.
“Nightcap.”
“Bar closes at two in the morning. Bit late, don’t you think?”
“You’re really making me work hard here, aren’t you?”
“I’m not trying to—”
“Night cap, morning-cap, call it whatever you want. Just have one drink with me.”
She looks past me out the window, a question in her eyes as she takes in my security guard.
“That’s Andreas. My security.”
Her eyebrow quirks up.
“Purely a precaution.”
Sofia’s posture relaxes, and I can see the minute her resolve wavers. “Fine,” she says. “One quick drink. Here.”
“Perfect. I’ll be back at closing.”
* * *
Once the lastof the staff leaves, she pours us two shots of tequila and places the bottle between us. She takes a seat next to me and leans on the bar, cupping her cheek in her palm as she waits for me to talk. She looks tired.
“Look,” I say. “I was a fucking asshole last night. Not that it’s any excuse, but I was exhausted—”
“You’re right,” she says. “It’s not an excuse.”
“No. It’s not, but please, hear me out. I was tired, and the texting thing . . . well, it’s a pet peeve of mine. I shouldn’t have bitten your head off about it, though.”
“Don’t forget that you also insulted me for being a waitress—”
“You heard that, huh?” I ask.
Sofia nods, but there is a teasing glimmer in her eyes. She picks up a lime wedge between her fingers and brings it to her mouth to lick it once.
When I recover my senses after watching her tongue dart out and slide over the flesh of the fruit, I speak again. I smile because I’m fairly certain her licking that lime wedge was her intentional flirting. “I didn’t really mean to insult you. If I’m sincere, I thought you were really hot—still do. When Fritz and Karl expressed interest, I admit I put you down, but I did it to try to get them to stop sniffing around you like hounds.”
“So you don’t know me, and you’re displaying possessive behavior?”
“Again, I was an ass, and I’m sorry.”
“Possessiveness is really unattractive, Brenner.”
My full name on her lips grates at my ears. “Please, call me Bren.”