Behind the Scenes(14)

“There.” Crystal nods straight across from us. The bar is an oval one, set in the middle of the dining room. The bartender’s work station is in the center, mostly covered by a plethora of bottles. The other side is still partly visible, though, and the few people over there can be seen through drink mixers and brands of bourbon that are probably so expensive I’d be a week late on my rent if I were to buy one.

I crane my neck, trying to do it as inconspicuously as possible. “Where?”

“Straight across. Do you see him?”

Oh, boy. Do I ever.

Every muscle in my body freezes. I have to work my jaw around to get it to unhinge. “That’s Mr. Mulroney,” I whisper.

“What?” Crystal asks, her mouth dropping open. “No way.”

Eryk spits out his drink. The bartender shoots him a look, but he ignores it. “Your boss?”

I clench my eyes shut. Seriously, what are the chances of this happening? Years in Los Angeles and I’ve never once run into the guy, at least not that I remember. And now that I’ve worked for him for a week he’s suddenly popping up right in front of me. God has a really twisted sense of humor.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes back up. “The one and only.”

“Oh my God,” says Crystal. “You weren’t kidding. He’s a hunk.”

I sneak another glance at him. Dressed in a gray blazer and white button-up shirt, he’s tapping his fingers against the bar, staring down at the floor with a serious look on his face.

“He’s alone,” Crystal points out.

I raise my eyebrows at her. “And?”

She shrugs. “Just saying.”

Eryk leans closer to us. “This is totally crazy, you guys. We came here to help Sydney forget about him and she runs into him. What do you think it means?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Crystal automatically says.

“It’s the Law of Attraction. You can’t get away from what you’re most preoccupied with.” He taps his finger on the bar for emphasis. “If you try to push something away, it’s just going to keep coming back to you. Remember when my mom kept having all those car troubles last year? She couldn’t stop talking about the first accident at the stoplight, and then she had another one.”

Eryk prattles on, his voice fading away. Unfortunately, nothing exists for me anymore but the man on the other side of the room.

I shrink in my chair and peek across the bar again. Did he see me? He’s still looking down, but if he hasn’t caught onto my presence, it’s only a matter of time before he does.

“I need to go hide in the bathroom,” I fiercely whisper.

“Why?” Eryk asks. “Just go say hi. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t know,” I say, doubt drawing out the words. “He’s my boss. It might be super weird.”

“Precisely. He’s your boss. It’s not like you’re picking him up. You’re just going over there to say hello.”

I look at Crystal. She shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt either way.”

My heels are already slipping off the bar stool and down onto the floor, although I still haven’t put a final destination into my internal GPS. Bathroom or boss?

What if being away from our work environment is all the extra incentive he needs to hit on me full blast? If he’ll check me out and offer me sex at work, then what will he do in a bar? Dry hump me by the ice cooler?

“Ooh,” Eryk says. “He’s with someone.”

“What?” I nearly shriek the word out.

I twist my head around so fast I nearly get whip lash. A petite woman with straight blonde hair stands next to Mr. Mulroney’s seat, her hand on his shoulder. She’s someone I’ve never seen before. Not the woman I walked in on him spanking in the office.

She speaks quietly to him and he nods, although the grimace is still on his lips.

“I don’t want to interrupt them,” I say. The woman now has her lips inches away from his ear, and he laughs as she whispers something to him. So Mr. Mulroney does get around. I can’t say I’m surprised. “And I actually do have to go to the bathroom,” I add. Snatching my clutch from the bar top, I book it away as fast as a person in heels can.

Winding my way through abnormally large potted plants and small round tables with diners, I keep my eyes trained on the bathroom hallway. The ladies’ room is all the way at the end. I push the swinging door open and take a turn around the powder station to the sinks. Dropping my purse on the counter, I go to turn the sink on, thinking to splash my face with water.

“Damn it,” I mutter into the mirror, remembering I’m wearing makeup.