Down to You(31)

That’s when I stopped antagonizing her. Now, I’m just ready to go home.

As I’m closing up my end of the bar, I’m thankful I remember most of what Marco showed me. The things I’m a little fuzzy on I’m able to improvise by sneaking peeks down at what Taryn’s doing on her end. She’s just faster at it than I am. Obviously.

When she’s finished cleaning up her area, she practically runs around the bar and makes for the door at the back of the room. She doesn’t even glance in my direction, much less say anything to me. And I could care less, really. Her attitude isn’t the reason my stomach is in knots. My stomach is in knots because I think I have a very good idea of who’s doing whom tonight.

For that reason, I take my sweet time cleaning up. I’d rather die than interrupt them. In fact, I really wish he’d just forget about my paperwork and let me go home.

I’m berating myself for giving a guy like Cash a second thought when Taryn comes out of the room. I look up. At first glance, she seems…bothered. But when she sees me looking at her, she turns on her brightest smile, grabs her purse from behind the bar and walks merrily out the front door.

I want to paper cut her. On every square inch of her body. And then roll her in salt water.

Just the thought of that has me snickering to myself, which is what I’m doing when Cash comes out. He’s not adjusting his clothes or anything that obvious, but I know what he’s been up to. And I’m furious.

“You about done?” he asks casually.

I snort. “Are you?” I could kick myself for letting my upset show, but it sort of slips out before I can stop it.

Cash’s brow wrinkles for just a second. “I’m ready whenever you are. I know you need to get home.”

How convenient that you remember that now! You’re probably ready for bed. A real bed.

Gritting my teeth, I toss my rag in the bleach and snatch my purse from beneath the bar. I refuse to rush just because he’s finally ready. Refuse! Yes, I’ll be the one paying for it when I’m exhausted tomorrow, but tonight passive aggressive is all I’ve got.

He leads the way back to the carefully concealed door at the back of the bar. As I suspected, it’s an office. And a nicely decorated office, too. Especially considering that it’s located in a bar.

The color palette is both soothing and masculine with its rich creams and calming taupes. There are black accents found throughout the room in the throw pillows on the sofa and the lamps on the end tables. They tie in to the huge black desk and expertly-carved cabinetry behind it.

There’s a partially open door on the back wall. It looks as though it leads into an apartment. A very nice and spacious one from what I can see.

With a sinking sensation, I realize he and Taryn were probably back there. In a real bed.

I feel sick.

Cash motions me to a plush black and taupe striped chair in front of the desk as he takes the black leather chair behind it. He clicks a few buttons on the computer and prints off some forms, sliding them across the desk to me. I take a pen from the cup of pens sitting to my left.

Silently, I fill out the necessary tax forms and employee forms as Cash makes what I assume is an employee file. When I’m finished and there are no more papers to sign, I lay down my pen and wait. He finally looks up at me and smiles.

“So, how are you liking it? Besides Taryn, of course.”

I force my lips into a smile. “Fine, thank you.”

I see a frown flicker across his forehead again. “Is there anything you need to talk about? Anything I can do to make your job easier?”

Other than stay the hell away from me?

I bite my tongue and hold my smile in place, shaking my head negatively. He nods, watching me closely. “All right, well I guess I’d better let you get on home then.”

With a curt nod, I stand and leave as quickly as I can without being obvious. After I’ve passed through the exit and am making my way to the brightly lit parking lot, I give in to the urge to scream in angry frustration. Just a little. It’s more like a growl, actually.

I stomp to my car, throwing my purse onto the hood to search inside for the keys. That’s when I hear footsteps. I whirl, startled, as Cash comes to a stop beside me.

“Are you all right?”

His frown is still in place, but his eyes are wide. He’s obviously concerned. He probably heard my scream-growl, since he was coming outside.

Great!

“I’m fine.” I hiss. “Go back inside. I’m just leaving.”

“I forgot to give you your copy of the Release of Liability,” he explains, handing me a folded sheet of paper.

I snatch it from his fingers and stuff it into my purse. “Thank you. Good night,” I say dismissively, returning my attention to the hunt for my keys.