A packed Cards with wall to wall drunken men. A handful of women scattered throughout guaranteed those chicks would get some heated action by the end of their night.
Mackenzie rushed around without the opportunity to really take in the scope of the evening. She'd done four routines on the bar and almost cracked her head off a light fixture. How that happened, who knew? Being vertically challenged, she never worried about striking her head off objects. It was as if someone purposely lowered the light to watch her injure herself for their amusement. Which was a ridiculous theory, but really, where had that spotlight come from?
Tonight she'd received three marriage proposals, two one hundred dollar tips with inappropriate after hours propositions, and an absurd amount of wrapped condoms−phone numbers included. All in a day's work. Frankly, Mackenzie adjusted to the nightly debauchery a long time ago. There wasn’t much that bothered her. Again, a testament to her look-the-other way personality. Well, within reason. At last she’d been sensible enough to decide to give Derk his walking papers.
One of the girls called off for the evening, with just one employee down it put them in the weeds. Luckily, the co-owner, Grant Donnelly, made a rare appearance and lent a hand.
In the middle of pulling out a couple bottles of Yeungling, a soft, deep voice whispered into her ear, "Mackenzie."
She squeaked in surprise and whipped around.
"Sorry," Grant said, his grey eyes alight with humor.
"You shouldn't sneak up on someone like that," she scolded.
He laughed and held up his hands. "We're in the middle of a packed bar. I wouldn't exactly say I snuck up on you in a quiet room."
She snorted. "I guess not. Sorry, I suppose I'm too focused on work."
Brushing past him, she served the beer and took the money off the kid who didn't look close to twenty-one. Though she didn't question his age. The kid had to get past the doormen, who were far from inviting when it came to checking ID's.
Grant slid up beside her while she rapidly shoved the twenty into the register and made change. His six foot five inch frame towered her tiny stature.
"I've noticed you've become a favorite here," he said smoothly.
She glanced up to find him carefully studying her. What did she say to that?
He nodded to her assigned section for the night. "My brother said your section is full every night you work."
Shrugging, she handed the change back to the kid, who tossed a five back at her. She turned to face her boss. "I try to do a good job."
"Well, you do and it hasn't gone unnoticed," Grant said appreciatively. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Mr. Donnelly, I'm really busy," she said, unsure why he would pull her away from the over-crowded bar.
"It'll be less than a minute," he urged.
Apparently no wasn't an option because he gently took her elbow and led her to an area located out of the view of the customers. As soon as they rounded the corner he faced her. "Mackenzie, what are you doing after work tonight? I'd like to take you out to grab something to eat."
What?
Stunned, she knew she was gaping. "Mr.‒"
"Call me Grant," he interrupted.
"Grant, I really don't think that's a good idea," she said unsure. After all, he was the boss. Those scenarios never turned out well. Ever. Though, she was quite tempted. Grant was the owner the girls swooned over. Sandy blond hair with sharp facial features, a straight nose and full lips, he was model material. He'd taken off his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white oxford shirt, and rolled up his sleeves to help out. His biceps and chest strained against his dress shirt. His developed forearms flexed admirably, and his bronzed skin hinted he'd recently returned from the beach.
His brows slanted together. "Why?"
"Well, you're my boss," she said obviously.
"No, my brother is your boss. I only sign the paychecks." He grinned, showing off a set of perfect white teeth.
"Technicality," she challenged.
"Mackenzie, don't over think this. I'm just asking to take you out after your shift for a light bite to eat. No big deal," he said coercing. He took a step closer, into her personal space. His scent, a mixture of cologne and masculinity perfectly combined, wafted around her. Teasing her.
Her eyes searched him over. She'd never been one to use a man, well, not use him use him, as in to get over another man. She'd only ever leaned on men for the possibility of affection and the hopeful security of love and a solid relationship. Well, that was Kayla’s observation. She didn’t necessarily agree with the sentiment.
Grant could be the perfect distraction to separate herself from Derk's dark lure. Professional, wealthy, intelligent, kind, he was total opposite of Derk. A perfect catch for any perceptive woman.