Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

RYLEE

I wiped down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a slow night. I dusted shelves and bottles and everywhere else. This was not great for tips. Tips were really the only reason I worked. The paycheck wasn't shit. It was the tips that put real money in my pocket.

Not tonight. I hated slow nights. I was trying to look busy, but I saw Phil looking at the clock, pulling a sales report and then looking at me.

"I've got to cut you," he said with a shake of his head.

I was pretty bummed, but I knew it was coming. This was the nature of the beast. I was counting on some good tips to put into my trip-fund jar. Rome was going to be expensive. I'd been budgeting and looking at how much everything would cost. The hotel alone was going to spread me pretty thin, and that was only the first stop on my trip. I wanted to take some hopper flights to other countries in Europe and maybe even head over to the UK. I had savings I could dip into, but I'd rather not if I didn't have to.

"I understand," I said. "I'll see you later."

I grabbed my stuff out of the staff room and left through the front door, saying goodnight to my coworkers. On the sidewalk, I walked smack into someone who felt as solid as a brick wall. I stumbled back, nearly falling. A strong hand caught my elbow. When I looked up, I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"Of course it's you," I said.

Simon flashed me that dashing smile of his. "You were hoping it wouldn't be?"

"I was hoping I didn't get knocked on my ass," I retorted.

"Lucky for you, I have catlike reflexes and saved you from falling on your ass."

I sighed. "Why are you here? Again?"

"Why do you think?"

"Simon, you leave soon, right? Why are you bugging me? I'm sure you've got a full harem in Houston awaiting your return."

He chuckled and followed me down the block to my car. "I'm here for a reason, not just to pester you."

"If it's to take me to another toy store, I'm not interested."

"Nope," he said, keeping up with me. "After our night in the toy store, I sort of thought you'd be happy to see me."

I threw him a look over my shoulder. "Are you implying that you're growing on me?"

We reached my car, and he nodded. "Maybe."

I decided to entertain him. "Okay. What are you here for?"

"I wanted to invite you to an event with me tomorrow," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of event?"

He was evasive about it. "It will be fun, and I need a date."

"A date?" I shook my head. "I don't think so, Simon."

"It's a few hours of your time," he said. "What else are you going to do?"

"I have plenty of things to do," I said.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like… read books, clean my apartment, plan my Europe trip. Wash my hair." I answered, waving my hand dismissively. "Besides, I doubt it'll be as fun as you claim."

"You don't know me," I said.

"No, I don't." I shrugged. "Which is why I really shouldn't be spending time with you."

"If I was a bad guy, wouldn't I have already done whatever bad guys do?"

I eyed him suspiciously, one hand on the door handle of my car. There was something in his voice that hinted at an ulterior motive. "You're devious."

"Am I?"

"You know you are." I sighed. "I have a feeling you're a bad influence."

"But you know hanging out with me is way better than anything else you might do," he replied coolly.

"I can't deny that you're interesting," I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

Simon leaned in closer, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim streetlights. "Just interesting?"

"Dangerously so," I retorted, trying to keep my voice steady. "I need to be careful around you."

He chuckled at that, stepping back and raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," he drawled. "But do consider my offer. You'll have fun. I promise."

"I'll think about it," I said, giving him a skeptical look.

"Good enough for me," Simon said, grinning widely.

"What exactly is this event?" I asked.

"It'll be a surprise."

I sighed. "Men."

"Men?"

"You guys can throw on a pair of jeans and be good," I said. "Or you wear a suit and you're good. Women don't have it that easy. We have to be a little more particular."

"About what?"

I sighed. "I need to know what the event is so I know what to wear. Do you want to embarrass me?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Then I need to know what to wear so I don't look overdressed or underdressed," I said.

"It's nothing fancy." He shrugged. "What you're wearing now is nice. It'll work."

I looked down at my ripped jeans and black crop top. No way was I wearing this. This was how I made tips. My belly button was a big moneymaker for some reason.

"I'm not wearing this," I said.

He laughed. "Fine, wear whatever you want. I'll pick you up tomorrow at three."

"Three?" I cocked my head. "What kind of event starts at three? Bingo?"

"You'll see," he said with a laugh.

"I don't like surprises," I muttered.

"Well, you'd better start liking them," he retorted, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk. "Because with me, life is full of surprises."

"I don't like life full of surprises either," I complained. "It's not too late to change my mind."

"There's always a first time for everything, right? Who knows? You might just enjoy yourself."

I rolled my eyes at his optimism. "We'll see about that."

"Exactly," he said, grinning. "Tomorrow at three. Don't be late."

"And what if I am?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself what happens to latecomers."

"Am I supposed to meet you somewhere?" I asked.

"No. You're supposed to give me your number and your address. I'll text you and I'll pick you up."

"I don't know if I like that."

He stepped close, his arms outstretched and effectively pinning me to the car. "You like it. Don't fight it. We had fun. And the kissing wasn't so bad, right?"

I blushed at his reminder, the memory of our kiss leaving a warm yet startled sensation in my stomach. "That's not what we're talking about," I stammered, trying to deflect his words.

His smirk deepened. He slowly narrowed the distance between us, his head tilting to one side. "Isn't it? Because I'm getting the feeling that you enjoyed it as much as I did."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my chest. "Simon."

"Yes?" he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips.

"Fine," I conceded hurriedly. It was either that or I was going to drag him into my car and have sex with him. He was that tempting.

Against my better judgment, I gave him my address and cell number. "Don't you dare text me dick pics."

He flashed a sexy smile. "Don't act like you don't want them."

"I'm serious, Simon," I warned him, trying to maintain a stern face despite the flush creeping up my cheeks.

He chuckled, his laugh lines crinkling around his eyes as he leaned away from me, breaking the tension. "Alright, alright. No dick pics. Got it. However, if you want to send me some pics, I'm open to it."

"You're terrible," I said, although we both knew that was not how I felt.

He turned to head for his car, tossing a casual wave over his shoulder. "Tomorrow at three. And wear whatever you like. I happen to be partial to leather. And red."

"Are we going to a sex club?"

"Are there sex clubs?"

"Stop it," I murmured. "No. I mean, probably. I don't know. I'm not going to a sex club."

"Too bad, but that's not where I am taking you. I'll see you at three. Goodbye, Rylee."

As he drove away, I stood there feeling oddly flustered and slightly excited. This was not how I saw my day turning out when I woke up this morning, agreeing to go out with a man who flirted like a rock star and oozed charm like he'd invented it.

I got into my car, shaking my head. I sighed, realizing that for the first time in a long time, I was actually looking forward to tomorrow.

When I got home, Karen was sitting in the living room watching a true-crime documentary in the dark.

"And I'm the freak in the group." I laughed.

"What are you doing home?" she asked.

"I got the night off early. It was slow, which sucks because I was really looking forward to the tips."

"That does suck," she said.

"Why are you watching this stuff?" I asked her. "It's going to give you nightmares."

"Nah, it actually makes me feel better," she replied.

"How do you figure?"

"The murdered are not me." She shrugged. "I live a pretty low-risk lifestyle. I don't feel like I have a lot to be concerned with. I'm not on online dating apps. I rarely date at all, to be clear. I'm not married. I don't have kids. I'm not walking the streets. I'm good."

"Are you saying I'm a higher risk?"

"No," she replied and then scrunched up her nose. "We should talk about you closing up at the bar. That definitely puts you into a higher risk category."

I laughed. Karen was so analytical. She saw everything through her logical way of thinking. I was more in the camp that shit happened sometimes. There was nothing to do about it.

"You wouldn't believe what happened," I replied, dropping my bag onto the armchair and sauntering over to join her on the couch.

"Do tell," she urged, pausing her show and turning to face me.

I recounted my encounter with Simon, his almost hypnotic charm, and our plans for tomorrow. Karen listened attentively, her eyebrows shooting up at the parts where he had me pinned to his car and our bizarre conversation about inappropriate pictures.

"Holy smokes, Rylee," she exclaimed when I finished. "You're going on a date with him?"

"It seems like it," I said. "But is it really a date if it's at three in the afternoon?"

"That does sound a little weird. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I don't know," I confessed, biting my lower lip as I leaned back into the couch. "But there's something about him. He's different, Karen."

Karen squinted at me in the dimly lit room, her gaze thoughtful. "Different good or different bad, Rylee?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, feeling a strange thrill at the uncertainty. "But I intend to find out."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Just be careful, okay? This guy sounds like he can be overwhelming."

"He's certainly that," I conceded with a laugh. "But don't worry, Karen. I can handle myself."

"Sure, you can," she said, her tone doubtful but affectionate. She understood my need for adventure, even if she didn't share it.

"I'll text you where we are going when I know," I assured her as I left the room. Maybe that would ease her worry a bit.

"Please do," she called after me. "And Rylee?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure your phone is charged. Just in case."

I laughed again, though I appreciated her concern. "Will do, mom."

I went to my room and searched my closet in search of the right outfit. I didn't want to look like I was going to the bar, but I did believe him when he said my outfit was his thing.