“Tense?”
“That’s an understatement, but yeah.” She licks her lips and my length lurches in my pants. “The truth is I don’t understand why you can’t hold a manager here.”
My eyebrows rise. “Me? Why I can’t hold a manager?” My feet come down off my desk. Those are fighting words. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s the managers that can’t hold this particular job?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She waves her delicate hand through the air. “That stops right here. I’m the woman for this job. There’s nothing you can do to scare me off.” She narrows her eyes at me—playfully, I think. “If that’s your intention.”
The corners of my lips rise. “Why would that be my intention?”
“Not sure, Mr. Strong.”
“Cut the Mister, shit. My name’s Quinn.”
“I meant what I said, Quinn.” She emphasizes my name. “I’m not afraid of you as a boss. I’m here to do a job, and a damn good one. By the time you’ve seen me in action you’ll be begging me for tips on how I kick so much ass.”
As much as I want to respond with a quip, the image of Savannah in action takes over my brain. Clad only in a barista’s apron, bent over the table, me taking her from behind as I palm those glorious tits of hers.
“I guess time will tell.” I manage to say without giving away the dirty thoughts in my head.
“It certainly will.” She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up just enough for me to sneak a glance. Usually this is strictly forbidden, me pining over an employee, but I can’t help it. If I don’t make Savannah Thorpe mine I think I’ll go fucking nuts.
“Is that all?” She asks.
“Not really.” I say, but then stop myself from expressing how much I want to bury myself deep inside of her. Damn her for having such a hold on me so quickly. And that attitude of hers, it’s like adding fuel to the fire. Submissive, lamb-like women bore me to tears. Give me the wolf so I can howl all night long. “But, we’re about to open. So, to be continued.”
Savannah licks her full lips and gives me a curt nod before heading the door. I take in her breathtaking ass and nearly have to bite my palm.
“Oh,” she turns around in time to catch me, but I don’t care. This is my place, the business I built from the ground up with my bare hands. If she doesn’t like the way I look at her…tough. “If you really want to get to know me, let’s have a drink sometime. It’s always easier to chat over cocktails than coffee.” She taps her red fingernails on the doorframe. “The caffeine gets me too amped up.”
I don’t have time to respond. The sexy bombshell turns on her heel leaving me wanting oh so much more of her. But before I get too high on myself, it occurs to me that it’s imperative that I don’t screw this up. I have a tendency to be a bit of a dictator when it comes to my café. Hopefully, I’ll be able to tap the breaks a bit and let Savannah do her thing.
3
Savannah
Wouldn’t you know it,my first weekend at the café is one of the busiest in the history of the store. I turn the deadbolt and lock the door on a late Sunday night, blowing out an exhausted sigh, and rest my forehead on the glass. The fact that Quinn stayed at the shop all weekend isn’t lost on me. I have to wonder if it’s because he’s testing me, or he’s trying to intimidate me. Either way, I refuse to back down. I lift my weary head, press the sides of my leopard-print blazer, and grab the cash box on my way back to my office, passing Mr. Strong in the process.
His golden-green eyes watch me every step of the way. Though my feet are burning with each step I take, I refuse to show it. With squared shoulders I brush past the big brute of a boss man, and close my door behind me.
Three whole days and Quinn hasn’t said one word to me. No accolades or notes have been thrown my way. What the hell kind of an owner just sits back and watches as the woman who’s running his business plays trial and error before his eyes? It’s almost as if he’s trying to avoid me.
“Uh-uh.” A tiny laugh escapes my mouth as I crash into the comfort of my desk chair. “I’m notthateasy to intimidate, Mr. Strong.” I say to no one in particular as I pull my cell phone from my purse to check my messages.
A knock on the door draws my attention. “Yes?” I call, wondering if maybe it’s Ari reminding me of something else I forgot to do. It’s hard to have a solid and efficient checklist when no one above me offers any sort of assistance.
The door creaks open and Quinn pops his head in. As always my heart skips a beat. With his thick, dark hair, eyes that practically glow with intensity, and the kind of cheekbones models would kill for, the man is nothing short of breathtaking. “Got a minute?”
“I’ve got several.” I say, putting a smile on my face when in reality I want to flip him the bird. “Come in.” The words haven’t even left my mouth when he’s already heading to the chair across from me. I suppose that technically he doesn’t need permission, but dammit it’s still my office.
I tent my fingers in front of my face and pray that I don’t look as exhausted as I feel. It’s still important to put on a good face for the boss. If I’m going to move up the ladder with his franchise, I have to play the role of eager beaver, and love it.
“How are you feeling?”
“Great.” I shake my head. “It’s different from the Vernon store. But that’s to be expected when it’s twice the size.”
“Can I give you a little bit of feedback?”
Oh dear God, yes. Finally. Where the hell have you been for the last seventy-two hours?