Conceal

I’d know that voice anywhere . . .

It’s him, and ironically, after the way he first spoke to me, he’s now knocking this guy. I won’t say I’m not happy he has, but still . . . ironic.

A part of me wants to call him out, but I can’t get my mouth to work not just because of shock but also because this gig means a lot to Maggie and I don’t want to fuck it up for her. So instead, I turn slowly to my side and meet the green eyes of Jaxson Price. I lift a brow at him, silently calling him out, and he rewards me with that damn smile of his.

The one I don’t want to admit does crazy things to my insides. Dimple and all this time.

Jeez, this man.

He opens his mouth, and without a sound leaving his lips, he says, “I know.”

Good. He should know he sounds like a huge hypocrite.

“Lady?” dickwad says. “She’s just the help.”

Jaxson steps forward then and leans in toward him. He says something. I’m not sure what because I can’t hear him. But the jerk’s face goes pale. All the color has left his cheeks, and it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

He lifts his hand in surrender. “You don’t need to do that, Price. I was joking.” Then he turns to me. “You know I was joking, right?”

I allow the largest fake smile to line my face. Maybe in the past, I would have fought. But here, I can’t, so I smile and tilt my head.

“Of course, sir. I’ll go get you that scotch.” Then, before I can say anything else, I leave. I hate being meek and holding my tongue. I hate weakness, which has been increasingly hard for me. Because in the past few weeks, I have been so weak, and it kills me to be that way.

I was never overly strong, per se, but this person is not me.

No . . .

Fear has made me weak, and I hate it.

Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about it, so I square my shoulders and head across the room to grab him and his friends their drinks.

They will all be sitting down soon, so there shouldn’t be any more run-ins with him or Price. I can keep busy, mind my business, and then leave here unscathed.

Once I have two drinks in hand, I head back. I’ll have to make two trips to get the rest of the men their scotch, but at least it keeps me busy. Jaxson is still there, but this time, I don’t make eye contact. I place the drinks down and walk away before Jaxson can say anything to me.

I need to stay far away from him. That’s what I know I should do, but it doesn’t stop me from watching him, wondering, and worse . . . thinking about him.

About an hour later, while I’m walking toward the bar, I feel a presence behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. The familiar scent wafts up to my nose.

I wish it didn’t send shivers up my spine. The way I feel when I’m near him is not okay.

First, I know nothing about him. He could be crazy. He could be a stalker. Hell, he could be a serial killer for all I know.

Or he could be a nice guy, a pesky voice says in my head, but I shake it off. It doesn’t matter. He could be these things. But the one thing I know for sure is—regardless if he’s an asshole or not—he is bad for my health.

With everything going on, I shouldn’t be interested or attracted to him.

I tell myself I’m not, but I’ve been robbed of companionship for so long that now I’m desperate for anything. Even something this small, the little attention he has shown me, makes me feel normal.

I’m anything but normal, and if this man was smart, he’d run far away from me. I have enough baggage to sink a ship.

“Are you avoiding me?” his raspy voice asks from behind. I keep walking because I one hundred percent am. “I’ll take that as a yes. But why?”

That halts my steps. I turn around to face him while placing both my arms beside my hips and glare at him. “There is no why. I’m not avoiding you.” Lies. “Hell, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” Lies. I can sense him anywhere. “I am here to work. To serve”—I pause for emphasis—“the likes of you. Is there anything I can get you, sir?” My voice is sugary sweet. I might get diabetes from how sweet it is. I let my lips split into a ginormous and utterly fake smile, to put the icing on the kiss-ass cake. The bastard rewards me with his signature sexy look. The one I’m sure he holds a patent for. Collecting money every time it’s replicated.