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for?”
    There’s a slight flinch of her face—she’s as thrown off by my question as I am. It just came out.
    “Louise?”
    “You sure?” I flirtingly challenge her as I take a seat behind Dane’s desk.
    “I’m sure, uh, it was kinda weird you asked. Not what I was expecting.”
    “Mine’s Landon, also an L. That’s why I noticed.” That is so not why I noticed. Much like the fact that I know she had cinnamon gum recently, that she tried to cover the small butterfly tattoo behind her left ear with makeup, and that she used to bite her nails but she’s trying to let them grow back… I noticed.
    “So, um,” she fidgets, “this is kinda awkward. If you want to cancel, I’d understand.”
    “Do you want to cancel?” I refuse to look away, forcing my eyes to stay on hers despite my embarrassment and mortal fear she might say yes.
    Her head shakes back and forth rapidly. “No, not at all. I really need this job. Mr. Kendrick said it pays fifteen dollars an hour. That’s unheard of for a waitress. It’s more than I make at both my current jobs combined.”
    “All right then, Emmett.” God, her name tastes good in my mouth. “Let’s talk.”
    A smile as timid and sweet as a baby deer takes over her gorgeous face and I have to grip the arms of the chair to keep myself in it. Fuck, she’s hot. I want to know what she tastes like everywhere. Are her sighs high or low, quiet or loud? Which curls and digs into the sheets first, her fingers or her toes?
    “Mr. Beckett?”
    “Hmm?” Oh. “Sorry. And call me Sawyer, please.”
    She nods and looks down, her cheeks slightly flushing. I’ve never gotten hard just from looking at a girl before, but I could lift this desk off the ground with my dick alone right now.
    “Let’s get it out of the way, okay? I manage The K, so you’d be working more for me than Dane. Mr. Kendrick, I mean.” I cough. “We both know what you saw. Will you be able to take direction from me, respect my authority, after that?”
    She crosses her left leg over her right and pulls at the hem of her shirt. “Absolutely.”
    I lean back in the chair and steeple my fingers under my chin. “Are you sure? I can’t have you thinking poorly of me. How can you listen to someone you don’t respect? You can’t even look at me right now.”
    Her head snaps up, eyes defiant and locked tight on mine. “It was just a blowjob.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, her entire body (every inch I can see, at least) blushing furiously. She lowers her hand and whispers, “I mean, it wasn’t a big deal. Not that it wasn’t big, it was…oh my God.” She drops her head and covers her face with both hands, talking through them. “Please kill me.”
    My laughter can’t be stopped and soon she’s joining me, peeking at me through her spread fingers.
    “I’m gonna try this one more time.” She graces me with her unencumbered face once again. “While your choice of public venue may have been a tad shocking, the fact that you get blowjobs was not, especially from Mariah. It’s fine and will not affect my ability to work for you.”
    “Good,” I reply with a straight face. “And for what it’s worth, I’m very sorry you witnessed what was not one of my proudest moments.”
    “Can you tell me about the job?” she asks sweetly, fidgeting just a bit.
    She means this job, not that job, right? Right. Pull it together, Beckett.
    We sigh together, both relieved that conversation is finally over. I’m still worried what she really thinks of me, but I’ll have plenty of time to prove myself to her soon enough.
    I briefly describe the job, which isn’t complicated, and ask a few questions. “So tell me about what you’re doing now, Emmett.” I notice exotic dancer is not listed on her resume.
    “I wait tables at Granny’s Kitchen and hostess at The Crossbow.”
    Interesting…she’s either lying to me or changed jobs and I was looking in all the wrong places. I assure you, I never went