Fixed on You

I felt alive.

The alternating flashes of dark and soft lights, the throbbing pulse from an Ellie Goulding club mix, the movement of sweaty bodies dancing, grinding, enjoying each other—The Sky Launch Nightclub got into my blood and turned me on in a way that I hadn’t let anyone or anything else do in quite some time. When I was there—working the bar, assisting the wait staff, attending to the DJs—I felt more free than at any other time of my day. The club held magic.

And, for me, healing.

For all its vibrancy and life, the club was a safe haven for me. It was a place I could attach myself without worry of going overboard. No one was going to sue me for focusing too hard or long on my job. But rumor was The Sky Launch, which had been up for sale for quite some time, was about to be sold. A new owner could change everything.

“Laynie.” Sasha, the waitress working the upper floor, pulled me from my thoughts and back to my job. “I need a vodka tonic, a White Russian, and two utterballs.”

“Got it.” I pulled the vodka from the shelf behind me.

“I can’t believe how busy we are for a Thursday,” she said as I worked on her order.

“It’s the summer crowd. Give it a week, and the place will explode.” I couldn’t wait. Summer at the club was a total blast.

“That’s when things around here get fun.” David Lindt, the general manager of the club, joined our conversation, a sparkle showing in his eyes as the bright white light that lit the bar illuminated his face.

“Real fun.” I gave David a wide smile and winked while I placed the drinks on Sasha’s tray, my stomach tensing with a flicker of desire.

He answered my wink with one of his own, stirring the flicker in my belly to a low flame.

David wasn’t the love of my life—not even the love of the moment—but his shared passion for the club sparked something in me. My interest in learning more and moving up from bartending had seemed to interest him as well. More than one late night of showing me the ropes had ended in heavy make-out sessions. Though I hadn’t been instantly attracted to him, his small stature, curly blond hair and blue eyes had grown on me. Also, his keen business sense and exceptional management style were qualities I required in a man. And, truthfully, the lack of effect he had on my emotions provided half the draw. We had decent chemistry, but he didn’t have me freaking out all over him like I had over other guys. He was safe and solid and that was my definition of the perfect man.

I rang up Sasha’s order while David filled shot glasses—Todd’s order, I suspected, another waiter standing next to Sasha. David rarely stepped behind the bar anymore, but we were short-staffed for the night and I welcomed his help. Especially with the way we were picking up. A regular and his friends had leaned against the bar waiting for my attention, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a suit taking a spot at the far end of the counter.

I handed Sasha her ticket, but David stopped her before she could take off. “Hold on. While there’s at least a few of us here, I think we should toast to Laynie.” He passed around the shots he’d been filling. Tequila—my liquor of choice.

I peered at him suspiciously. While it wasn’t unusual to have a shot or two while working a shift, it was always kept on the down-low, never in front of our manager and certainly not at his encouragement.

“No worries,” David said, bumping my shoulder with his. “It’s a special occasion.”

With a shrug, I smiled and took the shot he offered me. “You’re the boss.”

“We’re too busy for a proper toast, so let’s just say this is to Laynie. We’re proud of you, girl.”

I blushed and clinked glasses as everyone around, including the regular customer and his friends, shouted out “hear, hear” and “cheers.”

“Woohoo!” I screamed my own excitement. I’d worked hard to get my degree. I was proud of myself too. I slammed the shot back, enjoying the burn as it lined my throat and spread through my veins. “Goddamn, that’s nice!”

Aware that the crowd was getting antsy, Sasha took off with her order while David filled Todd’s. I turned my attention first to the regular, a guy whose name deserted me. He leaned in to give me a hug, which I returned. I might not remember him, but I knew how to earn my tips.

“Four of whatever’s on tap,” he said, raising his voice over the music which seemed to have gotten louder in the last few minutes. “Where’s Liesl?”

I handed him his first two mugs and began work on the next two. “Since she’s covering all my shifts next week she has tonight off.” That’s right—this was the guy usually flirted with Liesl, another bartender.

“That’s cool. So what are you doing on your vacation?” With Liesl not around, Regular turned his charm on me. His eyes traveled to my breasts that were admittedly hard to miss. Especially with my low-cut neckline. I had some nice girls who could blame me for showing them off?

“Absolutely nothing.” I hoped my delivery sounded like I was looking forward to my vacation. Truth was I’d taken the time off so I could go home and spend time with my older brother. But only that morning, Brian had called the trip off, saying that he was too swamped with work. He wouldn’t even be able to make it to my graduation.

I swallowed the emotions that threatened to show on my face. On top of being disappointed, I was terrified. Me with nothing to occupy my time was not an attractive me. I’d almost told David several times to go ahead and put me on the schedule, but every time I started, I felt like a total loser. Maybe a week off would be good for me. I could handle it. Right?

Now wasn’t the time to fret about the week to come. I finished the transaction with Regular and slid down the bar to take care of the suit at the end of the counter.

“Now what can I get…you…?” My words trailed off as my eyes met the suit’s, the air leaving my lungs, suddenly sucked out by the sight that met me. The man…e was…gorgeous.

Incredibly gorgeous.

I couldn’t look away, his appearance magnetizing. Which meant he was exactly the type of man I should avoid.

After the numerous heartaches that had dotted my past, I’d discovered that I could divide the men I was attracted to into two categories. The first category could be described as fuck and forget. These were the men got me going in the bedroom but were easy to leave behind if necessary. It was the only group I bothered with anymore. They were the safe ones. David fell into this category.

Then there were the men were anything but safe. They weren’t fuck and forget—they were, “Oh, fuck!” They drew me to them so intensely that I became consumed by them, absolutely focused on everything they did, said and were. I ran from these men, far and fast.

Two seconds after locking eyes with this man, I knew I should be running.

He seemed familiar—he must have been in the club before. But if he had been, I couldn’t imagine that I’d have forgotten. He was the most breathtaking man on the planetis chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw sat beneath perfectly floppy brown hair and the most intense gray eyes I’d ever seen. His five o’clock shadow made my skin itch, yearning to feel the burn of it against my face—against my inner thighs. From what I could see, his expensive three-piece navy suit was fitted and of excellent taste. And his smell—a distinct fragrance of unscented soap and aftershave and pure male goodness—nearly had me sniffing at the air in front of him like a dog in heat.

But it wasn’t just his incomparable beauty and exquisite display of male sex that had me burning between my legs and searching for the nearest exit. It was how he looked at me, in a way that no man had ever looked at me a hungry possessiveness present in his stare as if he not only had undressed me in his mind, but had claimed me to be sated by no one ever again except him.

I wanted him instantly, a prickle of fixation taking root in my belly—an old familiar feeling. But that I desired him didn’t matter. The expression on his face said that he would have me whether I wanted it or not, that it was as inevitable as if it had already happened.

It scared the hell out of me. The hair on my skin stood up as witness to my fear.

Or perhaps it rose in delight.

Oh, fuck.

“Single-malt Scotch. Neat, please.”

I’d almost forgotten I was supposed to be serving him. And the idea of serving him seemed so sexy that when he reminded me of my job, I nearly fell over myself to get his drink. “I have a 12-year-old Macallan.”

“Fine.” It was all he said, but the delivery in his low thick voice had my pulse fluttering.

As I handed him his Scotch, his fingers brushed mine and I shivered. Visibly. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at my reaction, as if he were pleased.

I jerked my hand back, tucking it against the bodice of my sheath dress as if the fabric could erase the warmth that had already traveled from where he’d touched me to the needy core between my legs.

I never brushed fingers with customershy had I done that?

Because I couldn’t not touch him. I was so drawn to him, so eager for something I couldn’t name that I’d take whatever contact I could get.

Not this again. Not now.

Not ever.

I moved away from him. Far and fast. Well, as far as I could get, curling into the opposite corner of the bar. David could serve the guy if he wanted anything else. I needed to be nowhere near him.

And then, as if on cue in the bad luck life I led, Sasha returned. “David, that group in ubble ive is harassing the waitress again.”

“On it.” He turned to me. “You can handle it for a minute?”

“I so got this.” I so didn’t have it. Not with Mr. Draw-Laynie-To-Me-Whatever-The-Cost-To-Her-Sanity sitting at the end of the bar.

But my declaration was convincing. David slipped out from behind the counter, leaving me alone with the suit. Even Regular and his friends had joined a group of giggly girls at a nearby table. I scanned the dance floor hoping I could attract customers by glaring at the sea of faces. I needed drink orders. Otherwise, Suit might think I was avoiding him by hiding in my corner, which, of course, I was. But honestly, the distance between us did nothing to dim the tight ball of desire rolling around in my stomach. It was pointless avoidance.

I sighed and wiped down the counter in front of me, though it didn’t seem to need it, just to keep myself occupied. When I braved a glance over at the hottie who had invaded my space, I noticed his Scotch was nearing empty.

I also noticed his eyes pinned on me. His penetrating gaze felt more than the typical stare of a customer trying to attract the bartender, but knowing I had a tendency to exaggerate the meanings of other people’s actions, I dismissed the idea. Summoning my courage, I forced myself over to check on him.

Who I kidding? No forcing was necessary. I glided to him as if he were pulling me with an invisible rope. “Another?”

“No, I’m good.” He handed me a hundred. Of course. I’d been hoping he’d give me a credit card so I could glean his name.

No, no, I was not hoping for that. I did not care for his name. Nor did I notice that his left hand was absent of any ring. Or that he was still watching my every move as I took the cash he’d given me and his order into the register.

“Special occasion?” he asked.

I furrowed my brow then remembered he’d seen our toast. “Uh, yeah. My graduation. I walk tomorrow for my MBA.”

His face lit up in honest admiration. “Congratulations. Here’s to your every success.” He raised his drink toward me and downed the final swallow.

“Thank you.” I was transfixed on his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean the last drop of liquid off his lips. Yum.

When he set his glass down, I reached out my hand to give him his change, bracing myself for the thrill of contact that would inevitably happen when he took it from me.

But the contact never came. “Keep it.”

“I can’t.” He’d given me a hundred. For one glass of Scotch. I couldn’t take that.

“You can and you will.” His commanding tone should have rankled me, but instead it got my juices flowing. “Consider it a graduation gift.”

“Okay.” His demeanor took away my will to argue. “Thanks.” I turned to stuff the money into my tip jar on the back counter, pissed at myself for the effect this stranger had on me.

“Is this also a goodbye party?” is voice called from behind me, drawing me back to face him. “I don’t imagine you’ll be using your MBA to continue bartending.”

Of course that’s what a suit would assume. He was probably some business type shared the opinion of my brotherthere were jobs worth having and jobs for other people. Bartending was the latter.

But I loved bartending. More, I loved the club. I’d only started my graduate work because I needed more to do. Something to keep me “occupied” was what Brian had said when he offered to pay for my expenses beyond what my scholarship and financial aid covered.

It was a good decision—the right decisionsince it essentially stopped my life from spiraling out of control. For the past three years I’d thrown my life into school and the nightclub. Problem was that graduation took most of my preoccupation awaynd now bogged down with student loans, I had to figure out how to make ends meet without having to leave The Sky Launch.

But I had a plan. I wanted a promotion. I’d been helping with supervisory duties for the last year but had been unable to get an official title since managers had to work full-time. Now that school was over, I was available for more hours. David had been grooming me for the position. The only wrinkle in my trajectory could be a new owner. But I wasn’t going to worry about that. Yet.

Explaining my intent to strangers was never easy, though. How wise was it to use an MBA from Stern for a career in nightclub management? Probably not wise at all. So I swallowed before answering the suit. “Actually, I’d like to move up here. I love the nightclub scene.”

To my surprise, he nodded, his eyes shimmering as he sat forward into the bright white light of the bar. “It makes you alive.”

“Exactly.” I couldn’t keep back my smile. How had he known?

“It shows.”

Hot, rich, and in tune with me. He was precisely the kind of man I could obsess over, and not in the healthy way.

“Laynie!” The shout of the Regular from earlier drew me away from the intense gray eyes of the stranger. “I’m out of here. Wanted to say congrats again and good luck. And hey, here’s my number. Give me a call sometime. I can help you occupy your week off.”

“Thanks, uh,” I read the name he’d written on the napkin he’d handed me, “Matt.” I waited until he’d walked away before tossing it in the trash under the counter, catching the suit’s eye as I did so.

“Do you do that with every number you receive?”

I paused. It wasn’t like I hadn’t hooked up with customers before, but never with regulars. That was a rule. I didn’t want to see them again. Too much temptation to go crazy over them.

But I had no interest in having that conversation with the suit. And with his eyes constantly on me, I finally believed that my attraction to him wasn’t one-sided. Not when he’d tipped me so generously. “Are you trying to figure out if I’d throw away your number?”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

His reaction made me smile and made the moisture between my thighs thicken. He was fun to flirt with. Too bad I had to end it. I placed my hands on the counter and leaned toward him so he could hear me better over the music, trying not to delight in the searing look he gave my bosom as I did so. “I wouldn’t throw yours away. I wouldn’t take yours at all.”

His eyes narrowed, but the laughter from earlier still danced in them. “Not your type?”

“Not necessarily.” Pretending I wasn’t attracted to him was futile. He had to be aware of my reaction to him.

“Why then?”

“Because you’re looking for something temporary. Something fun to play with.” I leaned even closer to deliver my punch line—the one that would deter even the horniest of men. “And I get attached.” I stood back up to my full height so I could take in his reaction. “Now doesn’t that just scare you shitless?”

I’d expected to see panic flash through his face. Instead, I saw a flicker of amusement. “You, Alayna Withers, do anything but scare me.” But despite his words, he stood, buttoning his suit coat as he did. “Congratulations again. Quite an accomplishment.”

I watched him for far too long as he walked away, more crestfallen about his abrupt departure than I wanted to admit.

It took me a good five minutes after he left to realize I’d never given him my name.

“Have you met the new owner yet?”

I glanced up from my clipboard at Liesl’s backside as she studied the contents of the small fridge behind the bar, her cascading purple hair dancing with her movements. My brow furrowed. I hadn’t forgotten about the new owner but had tried not to think about him, knowing I’d obsess.

Irritation at being reminded of him now filled my response. “When would I have met him?” I hadn’t been at the nightclub since my graduation more than a week before.

Liesl closed the door to the fridge and shrugged. “I don’t know. You could have stopped by or something.”

She knew me too well. I’d stopped myself several times that past week from wandering over. It had been a battle, but I’d stayed away. “Nope. Actually, I spent most of the week at a spa near Poughkeepsie.”

“Well, ladda!” Liesl raised a studded eyebrow. “Did you win the lotto when I wasn’t looking?”

“Hardly. It was a gift from Brian.” He hadn’t bothered with a card, just an envelope containing the train ticket and voucher for the resort delivered to me by my doorman the morning of my graduation. It was thoughtful. And so very unlike my brother. Maybe it had been his wife’s idea.

“How…nice.” Liesl detested Brian and never bothered to hide it. One of the few people in my life who knew my history, she was fiercely loyal and always on my side. My brother, not so much. That automatically put them at odds.

“Don’t sound so shitty. It was nice. I did a bunch of crap I’d never done before—horseback riding, rock climbing. Tons of spa treatments—feel my skin!” I held out my hand for her to feel. “My hands have never been this soft.”

“You’re not kidding. Baby smooth.”

“It was good for me. Really. Exactly what I needed. Relaxing but still kept me preoccupied.”

“Wow. Score one for Brian. Maybe he’s finally growing up.” Her voice lightened. “And how was your time not at the spa?”

Miserable. The five days at the spa had been perfect, but after the trip was over, I had to return to my real life, which meant an empty apartment and a mind that refused to stop working. “I’m glad to be back, if that’s what you’re asking. And I may have four or five files of new ideas for the club.”

She laughed. “Hey, at least that’s healthy obsessing.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Healthyish.” I searched for the S Vodka that my report said should be on the shelf and marked its presence on my paper when I found it. There were benefits to an active mind. I always had perfect inventories and flawless presentations. It was in relating with people—men, to be precise—that obsessing had its disadvantage.

I leaned against the back counter and checked my watch. Fifteen minutes until opening. That meant fifteen more minutes before the lights went down and into club mode. The club with all the lights on made me vulnerable and bare and outofplace. Even Liesl’s sassy gossipy personality was muted as if someone had turned down her volume. We’d never have this conversation in club mode.

My eyes traveled across the bar, lingering on the spot the suit had sat in the last time I’d worked. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought of him since that night. He’d known my name. Had he overheard it? Not my last name. He must have asked someone, although I hadn’t seen him talking to anyone else. But maybe before I’d taken his order…I hadn’t been paying attention to him. Maybe someone had told him then.

“Whatcha thinking?” Liesl cut through my thoughts, mimicking my lean against the counter.

I shrugged. She’d freak if I told her some random guy knew my name assume that my safety was at risk. I, on the other hand, had distinct empathy for people who had the need to gather more information than they should. And I didn’t want a lecture on would-be stalkers. I knew all about stalking.

But I could tell her other things about the mysterious stranger. “Last time I worked, this guy—” I paused, remembering how magnetically attractive the suit had been. “This incredibly hot guy, actuallygave me a hundred dollars for three fingers of Macallan. Told me to keep the change.”

“And did he expect you to blow him after your shift?”

“No. I thought that was what he was about, but…” What had he wanted? He’d seemed so into me, or had I imagined that, swayed by my own intense desire for him? “I don’t know. He left without trying anything.” I’d meant to scare him off, but that hadn’t seemed to be the reason he left. “It was…odd.”

“Midnight masturbation material?”

“I’ll never tell.”

“Your face says it all.”

Over the past week, he had entered my thoughts, wearing decidedly less than he had when I’d seen him at the bar. And while sexual fantasies were innocent enough for most people, thinking too much about any guy was never good for me and Liesl knew it. But I didn’t need her lecture. As long as I didn’t see him again—and chances were slim that I would—I’d be fine.

I moved to straightening things on the counter that didn’t need to be straightened and changed the subject. “So the new owner…ou’ve met him? What’s he like?”

Liesl shrugged. “He’s all right. Younger than you’d imagine. Like, twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Fucking rich. He’s insane about cleanup, though. We’ve been calling him the Bar Nazi. He inspects everything, wiping his finger on the counters to make sure they’re clean, like he’s got OCD or something. Oh, and talk about masturbation material, he’s psychotically hot.”

Liesl thought any guy with a fat wallet who still had his hair was hot, so her statement didn’t say much. But the Bar Nazi remark made me smile. The staff had been lax on cleaning standards for some time and could do with some tough love. At least, that’s what I’d say if I were a manager. It gave me hope that the new owner and I might get along just fine.

I wondered about the man who finally ponied up the unreasonable asking price for the club. Not that The Sky Launch couldn’t be worth it, but it needed some serious overhaul to stand out in the sea of New York City clubs. Would the new owner see the place’s potential? How hands-on would he be? Would he leave the business under David’s control?

“You’ll meet him tonight.” Liesl ran her barbell across her lower lip. “I guess he’s a big deal in the business world. You’ve probably heard of him—Houston Piers or something like that.”

My jaw dropped. “Do you mean Hudson Pierce?” I waited while she nodded. “Liesl, Hudson Pierce is only the most successful businessman under thirty in America. He’s like a god in that world.” Hudson had been born into wealth with modern day Rockefellers for parents. The eldest son, he’d expanded the Pierce wealth tenfold. As a business student I’d been intrigued with a number of his dealings.

“You know I’m not into all that Who’s Who bullshit.” Liesl straightened to her full five-foot-tenplusthree-inchheels height. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on the op en of, like, every ottest-slash-exiest-slash-ost-eautiful list in the world.”

I bit my lip trying to conjure up an image of him in my head. I’d probably seen a picture of him somewhere, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what he looked like. I generally didn’t pay attention to those things. But something tugged at the edges of my brain, something I couldn’t quite grasp. A connection my mind was failing to make.

“Anyway,” Liesl said, leaning back against the counter, “I think he’s around. I saw him go into the offices earlier when you were grabbing napkins from storage.”

I nodded, not sure if I was thrilled to meet Hudson Pierce or not. Part of me wanted to fangirl all over one or two of his more famous corporate decisions. And bouncing ideas off of him could be thrilling.

Or terrifying. What if I had nothing to suggest that he hadn’t already thought of? Hudson Pierce didn’t need my lame ideas to help him make the club thrive.

Unless he wasn’t planning to be involved with the business.

But why would he buy the club if he didn’t intend on being involved? In which case…

Crap. Before my visions of the future I desired went poof in my overactive imagination, I needed to meet Pierce and feel him out, whether I was intimidated or not.

I took several inconspicuous calming breaths then returned my focus to stocking the bar. Concentrating on my task, I pulsed absentmindedly to the techno strains that streamed over the sound system and let go of all my worries.

The music wasn’t on normal business volume—we could talk comfortably without raising our voices—but it was loud enough that I didn’t hear the office door open to the left of the bar. That’s why I didn’t notice Hudson at first. My back was to him and my gaze fixed above me as I reached for the Tequila Gold on the upper bar shelf. Even after I’d retrieved the bottle and turned around, my eyes first found David’s. He scanned me from head to toe and I smiled, pleased that my tightlyfitted corset hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was the reason I’d worn the damn thing. I could barely breathe under its vice-like grip. But for the searing look he gave me, it was worth it, heating me to low simmer in the arousal department.

Then I met Hudson’s stare and two things happened simultaneously. First, my arousal went full boil. Second, my brain finally made the connection it had missed before. Hudson Pierce was the suit.

Without meaning to, I scanned his body. The full view of him was even hotter, especially in the better lighting. Again he wore a suit, two-piece this time, a light gray that I’d almost call silver. It fit his lean body in such a sexual way that it felt obscene to look at him.

When my eyes made it to his face—his strong jaw, even more pronounced than I’d remembered, begging to be licked and kissed and nibbled—I found he was checking me out as well. The knowledge of this made my already warm face flush deeper. Though his gaze wasn’t as intense as it had been when I’d first met him, his pull was just as strong, and I knew—absolutely unequivocally knew—that he desired me as much as I desired him.

David spoke first, his words coming at me through a haze, barely registering. “This is Laynie.” I suspected his eyes hadn’t left my bosom. “Um, Alayna Withers, I mean.” Normally I’d be ecstatic that I had him so mixed-up and that his pants were visibly straining, but I was thrown by the new owner. More precisely, by how insanely he affected me.

“Hudson Pierce.” Hudson’s smooth, low murmur had me clenching my thighs together, my panties pooling with moisture. And if I thought he’d claimed me with his eyes the night we’d met, the surge that ran through me as he shook my hand deepened his possession. Almost like an invisible handcuff reaching out to bind me to him permanently. “Good to meet you properly, Ms. Withers.”

“Alayna,” I corrected, surprised at the low ache in my voice. “Or Laynie.”

He dropped my hand, but his touch lingered on my skin, in my veins.

Pieces began to fit together. That was how he’d known my name. He’d probably come that night to check out his would-be staff. But that didn’t explain his possessive staring. Maybe he was the type to think of women as objects. Maybe he took the definition of owner to a whole other level. The thought made my skin pebble in goose bumps.

And underneath that, panic crept into my gut.

I could not be this twisted up over my boss, the head honcho, the guy who would determine my fate at the club. Freaking out over him would end in serious consequences.

I placed a hand loosely over my belly, encouraging a deep diaphragmatic breath to calm my growing anxiety.

Hudson tilted his head and studied me. “I’ve heard many things about you. And witnessed your work.” He paused, moving his gaze up and down my body once more, scorching my skin as he did. “But none of what I heard or saw prepared me to find you wearing this ensemble.”

The color drained from my face. I wasn’t sure where he was going with his statement, but from his tone, I felt chided. “Excuse me?”

“I would think a graduate of Stern looking for a career in management would be more appropriately dressed.”

As quickly as I paled before, now I flushed, equal parts embarrassed and enraged. Sure my top was revealing, but he hadn’t seemed to mind when he ogled me only a moment before.

Or maybe his ogling had merely been wishful thinking.

Shit. I’d imagined it all, hadn’t I? That whole knowing he desired me—od, how had I so completely misread him?

Even in my error, I couldn’t take his criticism without responding. Whether Hudson owned other nightclubs or not, I had no clue, but he was certainly wrong about what acceptable attire was. Eye candy was expected at a club. Hot girls drove in customers. “What I’m wearing is quite appropriate for club staff.”

“Not for someone working toward manager.”

“Yes, even managers. Sex sells, Mr. Pierce.”

“Not at an elite club. Not at the kind of club I intend to run.” His authoritative tone resonated through my head, but then he lowered his volume and the words resonated through my bones. “You must know that women have a difficult time in the business world. You need to work to be taken seriously, Alayna. Dress sexy, not like a floozy.”

I clenched my jaw shut. Normally I’m the type to argue well past the point of winning or losing—I’d had several heated debates in more than one of my graduate classes—but now I found myself flustered and at a loss for words. Hudson was right. I had ideas for the club—ideas that required people to trust my business savvy. I’d learned at Stern what it took to impress people and to my credit, I’d hesitated when I’d purchased the corset, wondering if the open middle that revealed my midriff from the insides of my breasts to my belly button was too revealing. His words validated that fear.

Worse, I realized that what I’d thought was desire was something so much different. He wasn’t claiming me he was judging me.

My stomach dropped. There went any chance at promotion. How could I have been so stupid? Dressing for a guy instead of my career? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

I looked to David and discovered he was equally petrified at the transaction. “Um, yeah, Laynie,” he said, attempting to recover. “Is that new?”

It didn’t matter what David said. The glimmer in his eyes told me he appreciated my outfit. But he was with his new boss. He had to keep it professional.

And truthfully, I cared more about Hudson’s opinion at the moment than David’s. David was a category one attraction, after all. The kind of guy I didn’t emotionally invest in. Hudson, on the other hand, was…

No, I wouldn’t think about him like that.

I ran my tongue across my dry lips. “It is new.” I hoped I didn’t sound as ashamed as I felt. “I apologize. I misjudged.” I also sort of hated Hudson Pierce. Even though he was in the right. He was an asshole with wandering eyes, just like all the other suits I’d ever met.

“I’ve got that lace pullover in my locker,” Liesl offered. “It should tame you.”

“Thanks. I’ll take it.”

Liesl whispered in my ear as she brushed past me toward the staff break room. “Though, if you ask me, you look damn fine!”

“Now that that’s taken care of...” Hudson turned his attention to David. “I’ve changed my mind about returning this weekend.” David visibly relaxed. But Hudson’s next statement had him stiffening again. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I can’t be here until nine. Could you spare time for me then?”

I fiddled with the napkin holders, even though I’d already stocked them, not sure if I was supposed to be part of the conversation or if I should get back to my duties.

“Of course,” David said, even though nine was when the club opened and wasn’t really a convenient time to have a meeting.

“Good.” Hudson turned to me and I froze mid-napkin shuffle. “Alayna, you’ll be here as well.”

Still ruffled from my disastrous mistake, I was uneager to accept the invitation—the demand, rather. But I’d have to get over my rough start if I expected to continue working with him. Not even sure he expected a response, I gave one anyway. “Yes, sir.”

Hudson narrowed his eyes, so I couldn’t be certain, but they seemed to have dilated. He scrutinized me as if deciding something—whether to fire me, maybe, or give me another shot. After several painful seconds, he simply nodded. “Tomorrow.” Then he turned to leave.

David and I watched in silence as Hudson walked toward the club doors. At least, I watched, too distracted by the hint of tight rear end under the bottom of his suit jacket to notice what David was doing. Damn, Hudson looked just as good from the rear as from the front. If he was going to be in the club a lot I was going to have to start wearing panty liners.

The minute Hudson’s gorgeous backside disappeared into the entrance area, David let out a sigh, reminding me of his presence.

I stared at him, wideeyed. “What the fuck?”

David chuckled. “I have no idea. I’ve only met with Pierce once before today and we haven’t gotten much into anything besides me explaining our current business operations. He’s certainly odd, though.”

“Well, what do you expect, growing up with all that wealth and pressure to succeed?” Why the hell was I defending him? The man made me feel anxious and intimidated and humiliated. And maybe a little bit excited. Oh, and horny as all getout. I wasn’t even going to acknowledge the fixation I knew I would have on him if I didn’t get myself under control.

I took a deep breath, hoping to release the strange knot in my stomach that thinking about Hudson created. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Don’t worry, Laynie.”

Remembering he was the one I was almost sort of dating, I met David’s blue eyes, straining to recapture the certainty that he was perfect for me.

Misinterpreting my anxiety to be about my job, he continued. “Pierce has too many highprofile assets. He won’t want to spend too much of his time on the club. I’m sure he’ll let things run pretty much as is with maybe some minor finessing. And as long as I have a say in it, you’ll have a more significant role.”

David grinned, more at my chest than at my face. “Want to stay and help close tonight?”

His playful change of attitude provided the assurance I needed. “I was counting on it.”

* * *

At four a.m. the club shut down for the night, and David and I worked quickly and efficiently, splitting the managerial duties between us. When all the drawers had been counted and the money dropped in the safe, he dismissed the rest of the staff and sat behind his desk to finish up the reports. I perched on the desktop and swung my feet as I watched him work.

David glanced over at me and smiled before returning to his monitor. “Thank od you were behind the counter earlier. Who knows what else Hudson would have said about your outfit if he’d seen those pants?”

I glanced down at the black slinky pants that were so tight they gave me camel toe. They made me feel sexy, and for some reason that made me think of Hudson’s dark expression when he’d first laid eyes on me. The expression I’d since convinced myself was imagined.

“Great. Now you’re telling me I have to throw these out too?”

“Well, just don’t wear them while you’re working.” He stood so he could reach the printer on the corner of the desk behind me. “For the record,” he said as his arm brushed my waist “I don’t disapprove of this outfit in the slightest.”

I, on the other hand, wanted to burn the whole ensemble. It had caused me nothing but trouble all night—drunk patrons thinking they could touch me and say things to me that they otherwise wouldn’t.

But I’d worn it for David—for the moment when we’d be alone. This was it.

I put on a fake pout. “Too bad your opinion isn’t the one that matters.”

David leaned in close. “My opinion doesn’t matter?”

“Actually,” I said, grabbing his jacket by the lapels, “your opinion matters very much.”

His voice lowered. “Then I think you look sexy as hell.”

He covered his mouth with mine, plunging his tongue deep inside. I wrapped my arms around his neck and darted my own tongue between his lips. The arousal that had been ignited by the heated stare of Hudson Pierce hours earlier had remained just at bay throughout the night. Now it returned full force with David’s kiss.

I moved my hands along his torso and downward to his pants. But when I began to fumble with his buckle, he pulled away.

I opened my eyes and startled. For a moment I’d expected to see the gray eyes of Hudson staring back at me instead of David’s dull blue. What was wrong with me? Man, that Hudson could mess with a girl’s mojo.

David caressed my shoulder. “We need to stop this, Laynie.”

I blinked. “What do you mean? Why?”

“Look, I like you. I really like you. But…” He appeared to be struggling with himself. He dropped his arm from my shoulder. “If you’re serious about getting the management position, do you really think we should be messing around? How would that look? I’m sure that Pierce wouldn’t approve.”

I hadn’t thought about it quite like that. In my fantasies, David Lindt and Alayna Withers-Lindt ran The Sky Launch as a couple, driving the club to new and unbelievable success. The fantasy had never included a part where the rest of the staff and the club owner accused me of sleeping my way to the top.

“We could keep it secret,” I said softly, not willing to let go of a vital part of my dream. Not willing to lose my safety net.

“It doesn’t have to be forever. But for now, especially when I’m not sure what Pierce’s plans are for me or for the club. I think we need to take a break.”

“Sure.” I forced a smile. I didn’t want him to realize the extent of my disappointment. We hadn’t even been dating. We’d barely been fooling around. Why did I feel so crushed?

I thought about what had drawn me to David in the first place. He wasn’t the smartest guy I knew and not the hottest. I didn’t even really know him all that well. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t have other options. I was an attractive girl working at an elite nightclub—I’d had plenty of opportunities for sex in the city. Yummy opportunities. Not anyone as yummy as Hudson Pierce, but yummy nonetheless.

I shook my head as I hopped off David’s desk. Why did my thoughts keep leading back to Hudson? Even in the middle of a sorta-not-at-all breakup, I was thinking of him. And Hudson was exactly the kind of guy I shouldn’t be thinking about. At all. Ever. Not if I wanted to maintain the modicum of control I’d managed to acquire in the past few years.

“Are you okay, Laynie?” David’s voice brought me back to the present awkwardness.

Damit. I’d been so sure of a relationship with David that I’d pictured us sending Christmas cards together. Okay, maybe I’d fixated on him more than I wanted to admit, but not so intently that I was going to wig out about ending it. The biggest bitch of the whole situation was that now I didn’t have a safe guy to hide behind. Now I was vulnerable to notice other not-so-safe men. Men like Hudson.

Oh, od, was this the beginning of an obsessive episode?

No, I’d be fine. I had to focus on my promotion. I was stronger than this.

“Yeah. I’m fine. If you’re almost done, I’m going to get changed.”

David nodded. I hurried to the staff break room across the hall. Stripping out of my corset and tight pants, I changed into sweat shorts and a sports bra, stuffing the troublesome outfit into my duffel bag. Since there wasn’t a straight subway line from Columbus Circle to my apartment at Lexington and Fiftieth, I usually ran it. Sometimes after a long shift I’d take the bus or cab, but with all the stressors of the night, I needed the cardio to direct my focus.

Fifteen minutes later, I hit the pavement, taking in the fresh morning air with the rest of NYC’s early morning joggers. I loved the feeling of unity it gave me, even though most of the other runners were starting their day, not ending it as I was.

Quickly, I got into my groove, running along the south border of Central Park, but the steady rhythm of my body wasn’t enough to drown the thoughts of David and my future at The Sky Launch. Wasn’t enough to drown my thoughts of the gorgeous new owner who had demanded I meet with him later that night. Worry set in again. Was Hudson planning to fire me? Or did I still have a shot at promotion?

One thing was certainI’d be a lot more thoughtful about my choice of wardrobe in the future.