Sin (Vegas Nights 1)

Me: I would have gone with being rude and pressuring as the reason for the apology, personally.

Damien: But I’d be lying.

Me: You’re not sorry you were rude and borderline harassing with your behavior?

Damien: I’m trying to be sorry for that, but you’re just too fucking hot when you get annoyed. It’s endearing.

What?

Me: You know I’m torturing you in my mind when I’m angry with you, right? That’s not typically hot.

Damien: Like I said, you’re fascinating.

Me: Only because you assumed you could walk into my bar and purchase it without a fight once I’d seen you. I didn’t drop to my knees and agree to let you buy it.

Damien: Touché.

Damien: Buying bars isn’t usually what I’m doing when a woman is on her knees in front of me, though.

He got worse and worse, didn’t he?

Me: Charming.

Damien: Come to dinner with me.

My eyebrows shot up. Go to dinner with him? I’d rather sleep on hot coals and be sat on by a sumo wrestler. Not to mention his last text and the fact he didn’t ask. He told me to go.

Me: No.

I put my phone back into my purse and zipped it up. Of course, the urge to see his response was overwhelming. Because there would be one. A response. He was like a dog with a bone. I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d take my answer and leave it.

It wasn’t like I wouldn’t go. I’m almost certain I would. I wanted to know why he wanted my bar as much as he did, so I couldn’t not go. The only problem was, I didn’t like to be dictated to, and Damien Fox was very, very good at dictating to me.

Case in point with the dinner message.

“He wants me to go to dinner with him.” I picked up my purse. “He told me to go.”

Abby coughed to hide her laughter. “Please tell me you told him what to do with that demand.”

“I told him no, straight up. I’m going upstairs to do some more in dad’s office and do some paperwork. Do you need me to do anything?”

She nodded. “The schedule for the next month. Finley leaves next week.”

Damn. I’d forgotten that. Finley had worked here for five years but was opening a bar in Reno with a friend. He was damn good at his job, and I knew we’d struggle to replace him.

“All right. I’ll get that done and put some ads out.” I left her in the bar and headed up to the office. It was much quieter here, but there was a problem—no Abby.

Which meant the first thing I did as soon as I shut the door was check my phone like a loser.

Just like I knew there would be, there was a message from Damien, but it didn’t say what I expected it to.

Damien: You’ll go to dinner with me. One day.

I didn’t respond. What was I supposed to say to that? It was obvious he was the kind of man who was used to getting his own way. He was essentially an adult-sized toddler. I was already getting fed up with his attitude, and unbelievably, every message he sent or word he spoke just made it even worse.

How could anyone be so cocksure of themselves? He was acting like he was the king of the universe or some other freaking bullshit.

How much longer was I going to have to put up with this?

***

I pinned the month’s schedule to the board in the giant staff room and sent everyone a text letting them know to make sure to check the board in case anything needed to be changed. I hadn’t made much headway in the office since phone calls came in left, right, and center, but I’d sent out the job advertisements so Abby could get to interviewing for Finley’s replacement.

“Knock knock.”

I turned at the sound of Mia’s voice at the door. “Hey! Come in.”

“Abby sent me back. Is that okay?” She tucked her auburn hair behind her ear.

“Sure. And she got you a drink.” I grinned at the wine glass in her hand. “It’s probably easier to talk back here anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if Damien Fox has someone stalking me.”

She laughed and sat down with me on one of the large, squishy sofas. “Is it that bad?”

“He demanded me for dinner earlier.”

Her raised eyebrow said it all.

“Yeah. And those are from him. An apology for underestimating me.” I pointed to the flowers.

“Wow. I only know him as West’s friend and even then, it’s more business than anything, but that sounds exactly like the Damien I know.”

I sighed. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “I know nothing about him except that my father refused to do business with any of the Foxs. He wouldn’t even talk about them, and I’d never spoken to him in my life until I got back.”