"Then try to use a little respect of your own," he shot back before I could make a motion to stop him. "Don't storm your ass into the kitchen, guns blazing, just because what I needed you for was important. You went in there with a problem. I didn't call you in there like that."
"When I told Vicky to tell you to wait, I wasn't being awkward. I was in the middle of a massive order, because the reason for the busyness we found out was there was a coach that had broken down on its way back from Key West to Atlanta. It was full of people who are all staying nearby and we were an obviously unscheduled stop."
"It would have been nice to be informed."
"I'm sorry," I said dryly, "I didn't realize you required all the info. Vicky was told to tell you. If she didn't, that wasn't my problem, but it still doesn't excuse your attitude. You don't ever embarrass me in front of my staff like that again, Parker. This might be a summer job for you, but I live here. This is my town and my reputation you're fucking with when you speak to me like that at work."
And that, I realized, was what it came down to. This was nothing more than a passing job for him. A bit of fun, even. But for me, this was my life. Dirty was my livelihood. It was my business, and more than that, it was my passion. I loved every second of my job and running my business, no matter how stressful it was.
I didn't care if he was Parker Hamilton, Michelin-starred chef and whatever other honors he'd earned in the past few years.
I did care that I was Raven Archer, mixologist and owner of Dirty.
I'd built my business up with a little help from my grandparents on my dad's side. They might have left the money, but I'd put in all the work. It was all me.
There was no way Parker would discredit what I'd done. Whether he realized it or not. It wasn't going to happen.
"You're right." He linked his fingers and stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "Next time I wanna call you on your attitude, I'll drag you in here to do it."
"Yeah, you do that." I stopped. "Wait, what? No."
He smirked, leaning forward on his seat.
"You don't call me on shit, Parker. Not when your attitude is the reason for my shit."
"My attitude?" He raised his eyebrows and used the desk to push himself up to standing. "What about your attitude?"
I bristled. "What do you mean-what about my attitude?"
"Your attitude is the reason for my shit." His eyes darkened, flashing with something indiscernible. "In fact, it's you in general. Because even though I'm pretty sure I should be offended and really fucking annoyed with you right this second, I keep thinking that I didn't kiss you nearly hard enough yesterday if you're still talking."
What?
My mouth instantly went dry. I swallowed, but it wasn't enough, so I darted my tongue out and wet my lips. The relief didn't last nearly long enough, and before I could comprehend enough to string words together, he pushed off the desk and moved toward me.
My office was bright, illuminated by the highlights of the summer sun as it streamed through my back window. The golden rays bounced off his face, brightening his gaze as it stayed fixed on me.
His expression was intense-lips thinned, jaw set, eyebrows unmoving. It didn't change as he closed the distance between us, taking a giant loop around my body. Like I was chained to his gravity, I moved, spinning so I faced him the entire time.
I was between him and the desk.
It was too late.
My heart beat frantically, hammering against my ribs as Parker came so close there was barely a breath of space between us. I struggled to take in a deep breath. He was taller than me, wider too, so he took up every inch of my personal space he could without actually touching me.
I gripped the edge of my desk as my butt bumped into it. I was half-perched against the desktop, my attention wholly on the man in front of me.
Lust replaced anger.
I didn't want it to. I wanted to keep my anger.
But I also wanted him. Wanted him to kiss me. Wanted to know if it wasn't just a fluke.
Wanted to know if his words were more than hot air designed to build me up and leaving me hanging.
"You can't talk to me like that," I finally managed to get out, but it was barely more than a wheezing breath with a useless excuse for words mingled into it. "I'm your boss."
Like it mattered.
Parker placed his hands on the desk, his thumbs just brushing my wrists as his palms flattened against the solid surface. A shiver danced up my arms as a slow, easy smirk twisted up the side of his mouth as he leaned in. "That took you long enough to say, didn't it?"
"What's that meant to mean?"
"I don't think you really care," he said in a low voice. "Otherwise you'd be pushing me away from you right now."