After tending bar on and off again for years, Claire Nichols knew how to read people. More importantly, she genuinely liked the little quirks that made them real. For instance, take Mr. Handsome sipping his La bière Blanche. He’s been watching her for the last few hours like a lion sizing up its prey. She judged that he was at least ten years her senior but hid his age well behind that perfect smile, dark wavy styled hair, and amazing brown, almost-black eyes. Claire smiled a secretive smile. She was watching him too.
“What time do you get off?” His voice resonated strong and husky through the noise of the bar, patrons, and music.
“Now, Anthony, isn’t that what you said your name is?” Claire’s chatty work tone contained the slightest of a Southern drawl, the kind of accent you pick up from being around it so much. Her roots in Indiana with a mother that taught English wouldn’t allow her to drag out those syllables too far, unless on purpose.
Smiling a devilish grin and flashing those sensual eyes, he met her gaze. “Yes, that’s correct. And if I recall, your name is Claire.”
“And even though I’m flattered, I don’t usually see my customers outside this esteemed establishment.”
“All right, what time do you get off? Perhaps we could sit in one of those booths, right here . . . in this esteemed establishment . . . and talk? I would like to know more about you.”
Damn. He was smoother talking than any of the regular Joes that sit on these stools. And now that his silk tie was in the pocket of his Armani suit coat and the top button of his silk shirt was undone, his casual business persona was incredibly sexy.
“Now tell me again what brings you to Atlanta. You aren’t from here are you?” Claire said, leaning against the bar.
“Business, and no, but I think I am the one who wanted to ask the questions.” His tone contained a playful quality and at the same time was focused and controlled. Claire’s intuition told her that he was used to getting his way. Something made her wonder if that was what made him successful in business, because his appearance definitely said success, and if it transcended to his personal life.
Claire listened and watched as Anthony’s eyes glistened. He was tall. Now that the coat had been removed, she could tell he was muscular, with wide chest and firm waist. Most importantly, his left hand had an empty fourth finger. Claire definitely wouldn’t go there. Against her better judgment, she decided she wanted to answer those questions.
“Okay.” She smiled charmingly. “But I will’ve been standing behind this bar for six hours straight. I can’t promise I will be the best company.”
“Then I take that as a yes? But did you tell me the time? Or am I still waiting for that answer?” She found herself absorbed in his eyes.
“Yo! Hey, sweetheart, how about you give us some service down here?” Claire’s attention suddenly was pulled away from the hold of those amazing eyes. The asshole down the bar needed more Jack and Coke. She started to walk away. Anthony reached for her hand, which was resting on the bar, only inches from his. His touch was warm and made her skin tingle. He didn’t ask again, but his expression did.
“At ten, I get off at ten.” She removed her hand from under his, shook her head, and walked down the bar, smiling to herself. She needed to find out what the asshole wanted.
The deep red vinyl seat of the semicircular booth situated on the edge of the dance floor tried unsuccessfully to imitate fine upholstery. Music filled the air, too loud and too fast. In Anthony’s mind, it was the perfect inducement for them to sit close in order to hear each other. He also had a bottle of the Red Wing’s finest cabernet sauvignon. Looking at his watch for the hundredth time, he read the hands as they said 10:30 p.m. It was then that he saw Claire walking across the empty dance floor toward his booth.
This was definitely a night for out-of-character behaviors. Not only did Anthony Rawlings usually not fraternize with regional associates, he also never waited for anyone. Under any other circumstances, he would have been up and gone by 10:05. His friends, associates, and employees all knew his obsession with punctuality. But tonight was different. As Claire eased herself into the booth, she smiled a fatigued grin and apologized for the delay. There was a problem with the cash register, but all is well now.