Dirty (Dive Bar 1)

"I can't tell you how great he is," I said, not bothering to face her. My view was far too good. "Vaughan is ... he's awesome. And it's not just the hot body and his whole tattooed rocker bad-ass vibe. Because let me tell you, most of the time the man is a total pussycat. The sweetest guy I've ever met. Loyal and supportive, open-minded, totally trustworthy. We can talk for hours about nothing, just hanging out together. He has his cranky moments, but hey ... don't we all? Not to mention he's sexy as hell. I'm too much of a lady to discuss what he's got in his pants, or how he can make me feel without even bringing that into play. But when the guy can light you up with just a kiss, not even any tongue, you know you're on to a good thing. Know what I mean, B?"

Betsy stared at me, mouth open. I'm reasonably certain a bug flew in. Oops.

"Anyway," I said. "I better get back to work. Oh, did I mention how much I'm enjoying waitressing again? It's different when your friends are involved and you're actually invested in the business emotionally. When you truly believe in the quality of the product, you know? Everyone's working together to achieve the same thing. None of the be-the-shark bullshit, constantly trying to outdo everyone else and get the best sales figures. Plus, you should see the leftovers I get to take home. Nell truly is the most talented chef."

And still, she stared.

"Anyhoo. Didn't you say you had to go?"

"You're ridiculous. A complete joke," she spat, turning on her heel and stalking out. Goodness. And her heels were a good four inches. That was one impressive skill.

"Buh-bye!"

"You okay?" a deep familiar voice asked me from behind.

"Yep. Want to go out with me tonight after work, Vaughan?"

First, a gentle tug on my ponytail, then his lips brushed my ear. Christ, I liked that. Goose bumps ran riot down my spine. It was all I could do not to give a happy-girl moan.

"You asking me out on a date, Lydia?"

"Yes," I said. "I am."

"Babe, I'd love to." His hand rose to the back of my neck, stroking, drawing me closer. Hot damn, did he have the moves. The man turned my mind to mush.

"Something you need to know," he said. "Before tonight."

"What's that?"

"I put out on the first date," he told me with a perfectly straight face. "That okay with you?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it." My face might have been aflame, but then so was the rest of my body. "I mean ... it would have been so awkward if you expected me to respect you for your mind or something. Yikes, how embarrassing. Between you and me, I'm really only interested in getting into your pants."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"I'm sure you're a nice guy and all but, priorities, you know?"

"I know." The man's smile would have made a nun think twice. I never stood a chance. The way it lit his eyes seemed more magic than biology. "All right then."

"We're all set?"

"We are indeed."

No chance of containing my grin. "Until tonight, Mr. Hewson."

I was not standing idly by eyeing Vaughan's ass as he strolled back to the bar when the stranger approached. Deep inside my brain all sorts of things were happening. Work-related things. I swear. Sort of.

"Excuse me?" A neatly dressed young Asian man with a hipster mustache flashed me a friendly smile. "Miss Green?"

All happy thoughts fled as I snapped to attention.

"Lydia Green?"

"Who's asking?" I replied with my best fake smile.

He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket, presenting it to me with a flourish. "Brett Chen. I'm a freelance reporter. I was wondering if we could talk about your recent split with Christopher Delaney and the wedding you walked out on last weekend."

"No, thank you." I held his card back out to him.

He ignored it. "As you'd be aware, the Delaneys and their real estate agency are well known throughout the area and have strong connections to some key political figures. But I believe that a sensational story such as yours could have a much wider reach. A national, if not an international one."

"Wow. The opportunity to have strangers all over the world sticking their nose into my business." I waved the business card beneath his nose, growing impatient. "No."

"The money involved could be big, Lydia."

"No. Again."

Frustration furrowed his brow. "As I told Mr. Ray Delaney, I'll be going ahead with my piece with, or without, your cooperation. But I'd very much prefer it was with."

I crumpled up the jerk's business card and about-faced, heading for the counter.

"The police report states you hit Mr. Christopher Delaney. Would you like to comment on that?"

"Nope." Behind the counter was a bin, and in went the journalist's card. I huffed out a breath, avoiding his eyes. "Please leave. I'm not going to answer your questions."

"Multiple sources have confirmed that Chris Delaney is currently in Hawaii with his best man, Paul Mueller." Chen faced me across the counter, going nowhere, apparently. Dammit. "There's been much speculation that Mr. Mueller and Mr. Delaney are in fact secret lovers. Is that the reason you refused to go through with the wedding?"

"No comment."

"Why are you no longer employed by the Delaney Real--"

"No." I held onto the edge of the counter, fingernails pressing into the old wood. On the other side of the room, Vaughan served a customer. I couldn't hear anyone in the kitchen behind me. But I also didn't want to start crying for help, causing problems for Nell. This guy had to give up and go away eventually without me getting vocal and disturbing our customers. He had to.

"Lydia, is it true there was a video of--"

"No."

"What the fuck is this?" Eric stood beside the reporter, his bruised face lined with annoyance. "Who are you? No, don't answer that. I don't want to know. Just get out."

Mr. Chen's mouth worked, his eyes suddenly anxious. "But if I could just have a minute with Miss Green."

"Miss Green clearly wants nothing to do with whatever you're selling. Get out."

"But-

-"

"Management reserves the right to refuse anyone entrance to the business premises. From this moment on, that's you," said Eric, going toe to toe with the man. And winning. "You're harassing a member of my staff. Leave now or I'll be forced to remove you."

"Call me, Lydia," he said, slapping down another business card. "Opportunities like this only come along once in a lifetime."

"Get out," growled Eric.

Flashing a final covetous look my way, the reporter did as told.

Damn. Chin tucked in, I tried to calm both my breathing and my temper. What a bastard. A story bringing attention to the whole damn disaster was the last damn thing I needed.

"You okay?" asked Eric, rounding the counter.

"Yeah. Thanks. I could have gotten rid of him myself, I just didn't want to cause a scene."

A nod.

"What was that?" Vaughan stormed up to us. "Babe, who was that guy?"

"Some reporter." I swiped the second card he'd left, letting it join the first in the bin. "Doesn't matter. Eric got rid of him. Thank you again for that."

"Thanks, man," said Vaughan.

Eric nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

"Hey." His finger curled beneath my chin, raising it gently. "Okay?"

"Just angry." I crossed my arms, pressing my lips tightly together. "Opportunities like this only come along once in a lifetime. Like I should be grateful that the guy I was about to marry was a closet homosexual and using me. It was so much damn fun finding out the first time, let's go through it again! Asshole."

He gave me a small smile.

I groaned. "Sometimes it feels like I'm never going to put it behind me."

"It only happened on Saturday." He trailed his fingers over my cheek, smiling more broadly. "Today is Tuesday. This shit is going to be behind you, it's just going to take a little more time. Three--four days ... is not so long."

I destroyed him with my very best death glare. "Stop being reasonable, Vaughan. Who even asked you?"

He sighed, then came around the counter and planted a kiss on top of my head. I leaned into him, taking much more comfort in his presence than I should have. Soon he wouldn't be there. I needed to learn how to stand on my own. Deal with my own crap. But, gah. Soon was soon enough to stand alone.

"Forget about that asshole," he said, rubbing my back, kissing my cheek. "Think about what makes you happy, like our date tonight or something."

"Okay."

"I better get back over there."