Well, there was the answer to her question, Sydney thought as she took in the new arrival's appearance. The woman screamed high maintenance, from those red-painted lips, to that perfectly crimped blonde hair, all the way down to her Christian Louboutin pointed pumps. Looking like she'd been poured into the white crepe jumpsuit she wore, Alexios's companion was the type of woman who demanded a man's attention. And it was obvious that she was where he chose to spend his time, not at The Midas Touch lounge.
Right now she took hold of Alexios's arm possessively, pulling him in so close that his elbow nestled between breasts that were well displayed in her outfit's plunging neckline. And still she stared at Sydney inquiringly.
"Felicity, this is our new bartender, Ms. Sydney Hughes. Sydney, Felicity Carruthers." Alexios made the introductions.
Sydney nodded by way of greeting, but Ms. Carruthers simply sniffed, then turned Alexios toward her. She reached up and straightened his already straight tie knot. Poking her bottom lip out in a little-girl pout that made Sydney want to hurl, she said in a sex-kitten voice that she didn't bother to lower, "I thought we were going to spend some time together before Daddy's boring old party, Lexie. Can't you get rid of her and take me upstairs? This material is just so itchy."
Sydney watched in fascination as Felicity pulled on the neckline of her jumpsuit, managing to expose even more of her tanned skin than she already had on display. Alexios's gaze dropped to all that cleavage, and Sydney fought the urge to exclaim, "Seriously?" Instead she said drily, "Perhaps I should come back later, when your attention isn't...divided?"
Alexios's eyes snapped to hers, and his hands rose to remove Ms. Carruthers's fingers from now wandering over his chest. He bent his head and gave that woman a quick peck on her pouty lips and said, "Let me finish up with Ms. Hughes, and I'll meet you upstairs. Have Cosmo let you in."
"Fine," she said in a spoiled brat tone, shooting a venomous look at Sydney before squaring her shoulders. "You know I don't like waiting, Lexie. I could change my mind... Just. Like. That." She snapped her fingers before turning and sashaying back the way she'd come, her behind twitching back and forth with every step she took.
After watching her departure, Alexios turned his attention back to Sydney and said, "I apologize, Ms. Hughes—"
Sydney shrugged. "No problem. I can see you have your hands full." She held his gaze for several beats to get her meaning across. Saw irritation flicker in the back of his eyes. Good. She hoped he'd become annoyed enough to send her packing. Get rid of her, or get serious about his job and forget that spoiled socialite who probably even now was crawling between his satin sheets.
Shoving away that distasteful image, Sydney squared her shoulders and headed off Verga's next round of comments by continuing with, "If you don't mind introducing me to your head bartender, I'd like to ask him some questions and take notes. Maybe draw a quick sketch of where everything is kept."
His dark brown eyes searched hers for a long moment, before he nodded and led her around the bar. The man behind it had wisely put his phone away, and was now taking Sydney's measure with assessing eyes under a mop of curls. He was younger than her, probably some UNLV student hoping to make a quick buck tending bar. Sydney smiled politely while Alexios made the introductions.
The kid, James, didn't act put out at all that Alexios was bringing in a more experienced bartender. He actually appeared relieved. Showed Sydney where everything was located while keeping up a steady stream of talk. He seemed to forget that his boss stood nearby, though Sydney couldn't. She remained hyper-aware of Alexios's silent presence as he leaned one shoulder against the gold wall, his steady gaze following all their movements.
At last satisfied that she knew the lay of the land behind the bar, Sydney thanked James and returned to Alexios, who had straightened while she approached. She felt a bit self-conscious under his unreadable scrutiny, which made her hold her head high and her back straight in response. She may not be wearing red-soled shoes or have a private school degree, but she knew she could hold her own against any privileged daddy's girl or favored son.
As she reached Alexios's side, she said matter-of-factly, "Your bar is very well stocked, so it's not inferior product that's keeping possible clientele away." She left the comment a statement, but her companion chose to treat it as a question. He took her elbow gently in one hand, and she braced for the burn of his touch against her skin. Tried to act nonchalant while he propelled them both to a booth and signaled to James to pour them a drink. Of what, Sydney had no idea.
Now seated, Alexios leaned his arms on the table top and sighed heavily. Speared her with another of his unsettling, direct looks through sooty lashes. "You and I both know it's my lack of supervision that is ruining this place. Don't bother to sugarcoat it."
The warmth of his body so close to hers did crazy things to her concentration. She was too aware of the length of his thigh alongside hers. The near bump of their hips on the curved bench. Determined to ignore her ridiculous reaction to his proximity, she shifted farther away from him on the seat. Raised one shoulder and replied, "Well, if I had a man as...eager for me as Ms. Carruthers seems to be for you, I might be derelict in my duties, too." There, she'd thrown him a bone, even if she really thought Ms. Carruthers was about as attractive as Honey Boo Boo.
He waved a hand. Paused while James deposited two ice waters in front of them. Once the bartender walked away, Alexios picked up where he'd left off. "Don't patronize me, Ms. Hughes. I know I've been neglecting this place. Though my father has tied my hands as far as its exterior modernization, there is no excuse for the lounge to be empty on the inside. I mean, look at Jimmy's."
Sydney stared at Alexios Verga. Had he just implied what she thought he had? That Jimmy's was a dump on the outside, yet still brought a profit? Her mouth dropped open at the sheer rudeness of his comment.
They stared at each other for long seconds. She watched while realization of what he'd implied bloom over his features. She began shaking her head even as he started to recant his boorish statement. "That's not what I meant—"
She brushed off his back-pedaling. "Never mind, Mr. Verga. I know you don't think much of Jimmy's beyond its profits. That's fine with me. It may not be some overpriced, gilded mausoleum of the nouveau riche, but Jimmy's has passed the test of time, where obviously your lounge is falling short." She rose then, stepped back as he quickly did the same. And staved off his continued attempts at apology. "I think I've seen and heard all I need to know. What time do you want me to start tomorrow?"
Attempting to keep her cool and not slap that phony look of contrition right off his handsome face, Sydney nevertheless took up a combative pose, crossing her arms under her breasts. All that was missing from her belligerent stance was a tapping foot. She met his gaze directly, even if she did have to raise her head to do so, somewhat gratified to see open concern wash over his features, instead of that haughty expression she'd come to expect in their short acquaintance.
"I didn't mean it the way it came out, Ms. Hughes," he began immediately. "I have the utmost regard for you and your father's successful business, and hope that you can do the same for mine. I simply meant that while Jimmy's is not on the Strip, nor affiliated with any notable resort, it is making money hand over fist, while my place sits empty on a Friday night. Nothing more. Will you accept my apology?"
He sounded sincere enough. Certainly looked repentant. But still she seethed. Jimmy's was too close to her for anyone, even someone as handsome and rich as Alexios Verga was, to criticize. His words told her quite plainly that the success of their middleclass establishment confounded him.
She ignored his outstretched hand, couldn't shake it. While he may be her boss now, he had no control of her feelings. She would help him because in doing so, she was doing what her father wanted. And even though Alexios's careless comment still rankled, she'd already formulated a plan to help resuscitate this bar on death row. A fast-track idea that she would now keep to herself, just because she knew it would irk him. He was the type who would want to know everything before it happened, so he could put his stamp of approval on it. But what could he do to her, fire her? He'd be closing his place for sure if he did so.
So, shrugging a shoulder as if his comment was nothing more than she'd expected, she replied, "It doesn't really matter to me what you think, Mr. Verga. I have nothing to prove. The evidence is in our establishments' prospective profits. As you've been so eager to point out, my helping you helps me and my father. That's all I'm concerned with. Now, if you have the necessary paperwork for me to sign, I'd like to get back to Jimmy's for my last night. Get things in order before Dad has to start doing double duty."
She gazed at him pointedly, ignored the flutter in her stomach that their shared eye contact produced. He was such a snob, she wished she didn't react inside like a silly school girl with her first movie star crush. Barely managed to maintain an outwardly bored demeanor such as the one he presented to the world inherently.
He searched her face, looking for cracks in her stoic indifference, but Sydney held strong. He wouldn't see how she still seethed at his careless comment. Seemingly satisfied that she'd accepted his apology, he said, while reaching into his inner jacket pocket, "Certainly. And if you can get him to accept help, my offer of one of our bartenders still stands."
She shook her head. "I'll try, but Dad is proud. We both are." She shot him another speaking look. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him about her plan to fill the bar tomorrow night with Jimmy's patrons with the promise of a free first drink. Jump-start this place, and let Mr. Verga see what it could be like. Of course, the free alcohol part might be a tad off-putting to a control freak like she thought Alexios might be. Oh, well. Sucked for him. His off-hand comment about Jimmy's had set the tone for their working relationship.
She took the papers from him, careful not to touch his fingers, and sat back down to fill out the documents that would bind her to Alexios Verga for the foreseeable future. As she read through the standard hiring rhetoric, she tried to ignore his disconcerting presence, and his unswerving attention to her every move. If this was how she would feel every time she was around him, she was in for a very long six months.
##
She was late. Again. Alexios paced the red carpeted portico that Saturday evening, checking his Cellini Rolex every minute while tourists hurried past him, eager to hit the slots or the tables that his casino provided at every denomination and buy-in stake available.
He hated tardiness. Oh, he knew the city roads were brutal any time of the day, and even more so on weekends. But she was a local. She knew the score and should have adjusted her arrival time accordingly.
At ten minutes past the hour, he saw the grubby little compact he'd bundled Sydney into last night come barreling up the curved drive with her at the helm. He ground his teeth as it jerked to a stop, its front right tire bouncing against the curb. He signaled to a valet to get her door, though the young man was already heading over. For all Orrin's relaxed ways, his employees knew their jobs intrinsically.
Sydney bounded out of the driver's seat with an artless smile for the youth holding her car door, and Alexios felt the effect of it like a punch to the groin. She shined with golden beauty, from her halo of gilded, swept-back hair, to her tanned skin, right down to the gold bow tie that encircled her swanlike neck. And when she turned that beaming look upon him, he forgot where he was momentarily. Why she was here. But then he remembered that she was now his employee and pursed his lips into a frown. Reminded himself she was here on business, and that business was not starting on time.
"You're late," he said shortly as she approached. At his words her step faltered, but her radiant smile did not. She was close enough now that he could see the gold-flecks on her eyelashes, and the golden shine of some sort of lip gloss on that upturned mouth. He frowned even more.
"Am I keeping you from a hot date? I apologize. Traffic was murder." She gazed up at him guilelessly and he mentally stumbled. Almost ignored her casual jibe. Almost. He took her elbow and steered them both through the automatic doors into the foyer.
"This is a place of business, and businesses run on time, Ms. Hughes. Now—"
"I'm so glad you finally recognize that fact, Mr. Verga." She pulled her arm from his grasp and he saw her chin rise defiantly even as he felt a flush of embarrassment flood his neck and face. Christ, how was she able to push his buttons so easily?
He took a deep breath. Attempted to center his thoughts and emotions. Noticed how her gaze never wavered from his face.
"Point taken, Ms. Hughes," he said evenly. A passerby jostled him, and he glanced away before looking back at her. "Please try to be more prompt in the future. Now, let's get you a uniform—"
"I don't wear long-sleeved shirts, Mr. Verga," she once more interrupted. "They bind me, and get slopped with alcohol and everything else. If your people wear a vest, which I think I remember James having on, I'll be more than happy to put that on."
His mind had gone blank. Its wheels had stopped turning when she'd announced she didn't wear shirts. Instead, the image of Sydney topless seemed emblazoned in his brain. All that tanned skin exposed to his eyes alone, those rounded breasts...
He had to blink several times before he returned to the here and now, where, sadly, Ms. Hughes stood completely clothed before him, and where he now sported another erection from just being near her. Hell, he should have slept with Felicity last night. She always managed to wring him dry. But he'd been too restless, too out of sorts, and he hadn't known why. She'd flounced off to her Mercedes without even a good-bye kiss.
Irritated with Sydney's answer, her unpunctuality, and that he was now horny as hell, he said shortly, "Fine, whatever. I don't think the few patrons we have will mind seeing your skin." He hoped his words embarrassed her, made her think about putting on more clothes. But she surprised him by replying brightly, "No one has yet." His mood darkened more.
He led them through the casino to an employee entrance, where, once through it, the whole tempo changed. Cocktail waitresses were running to and fro, dealers were either checking in with pit bosses or timing out, and food servers from the various resort restaurants moved between them all. As he took Sydney toward the employee uniform area, she said, "This hustle and bustle is fantastic. I feed off it."
"Yes, well, if you notice, most of them don't belong to the bar. I'm afraid you won't be feeding off anything but martini olives in my lounge. But that's why you're here." He reluctantly turned to ask one of the cocktail waitresses where the spare uniforms were kept. Knew he was going to catch flack from Sydney because he didn't know where his own supplies were, but hell, the employees moved them where they'd be the most accessible. Nothing wrong with that, was there?
Pointed in the direction of the correct closet, he yanked open the door and began flicking through hangers, saying, "You look like you're a size six." He cocked a brow at her, refusing to rake his eyes over her body like he really wanted to.
She didn't demur his assessment of her form, so he pulled out a bartender's vest, black with gold piping around the neckline and pockets, with a matching apron. Her gold bowtie was similar enough to the one that came with the uniform that he didn't insist she change it.
"Go change in the ladies room and I'll meet you out at the bar," he said shortly, needing to go where it wasn't so cramped and busy, where her floral scent and curvy body didn't smother all his senses. He turned from her quickly and strode away, confused and irritated by his body's responses to this woman.
Three hours later Alexios was wishing he was anywhere but here at The Midas Touch. He never spent a whole evening at the casino, and now he knew why. Already he'd had to help break up a fight between two soused players at one of the Black Jack tables and escort the men out of the casino with security, one of his waitresses had run into him and spilled vodka down the front of his suit, and his father had asked him for the quarterly reports, again. Alexios had already looked at their dismal numbers and really didn't want to get into another altercation with his dad tonight. He decided to maintain radio silence instead.
He'd purposely stayed away from the bar, as well. After introducing her to her staff, he told Sydney he'd check in later and see how she was getting along. But when Orrin called him on his ear transmitter at a little after ten, he realized maybe he should have dropped by sooner.
"Have you been down to the lounge lately, bro?"
Signing off on a high roller's initial buy in, Alexios took a minute before he stepped out of the heavy better's antechamber and into the casino proper. Pressing his ear piece to his ear he asked, "No, why?"
A ball of dread began to gather in his stomach. The place was always a ghost town. What could be any different tonight? As his brother began talking, he pivoted and strode toward the lounge, weaving his way around canes, walkers, and oblivious tourists looking for that winning machine.
"Because it's bouncing like a wet T-shirt night at Hooters. Hey, come to think of it, you should do that kind of promotion—"
"Shut up, Orrin, and come meet me."
He heard the music and noise before he rounded the corner. Ground to a halt as the lounge came into view. And felt his jaw drop open at what he saw.
Orrin hadn't been joking. The Midas Touch Lounge was filled to the max and even overflowing past the brass perimeter with people. People talking, people laughing, people even dancing to the band. The band which was not playing what he'd hired them to play, but was instead blasting out the oldie "All Right Now" on the same instruments that had barely squeaked yesterday.
He narrowed his gaze onto the bar area below and in front of the band's stage. And couldn't believe what he saw. James, the kid whom he'd introduced to Sydney just yesterday, was bopping to the music while pouring drinks. Spinning on his feet like he was one of The Four Tops, and not spilling a drop. The waitresses, who were usually out trawling the slots for customers, bustled from tables to bar and back again, keeping time to the music while balancing their trays.
And then he caught sight of his newest bartender, Sydney Hughes, in the process of lighting a shot on fire to the cheering of her spectators. Holding an Aim N Flame in one hand, she encouraged their noisy countdown with "C'mon" waves of her other hand, and Alexios saw red.
She was using fire around all these people and combustible liquids? Did she know what a liability she was creating here in his hotel with her display? Or was she just plain nuts?
"Damn, she is one awesome chick, Lex."
Alexios turned sharply to find Orrin at his elbow, a martini in his hand. His tie, as always, was skewed, his hair tousled as though a woman had run her fingers through it, and the smile on his face told Alexios this wasn't the first glass he'd imbibed.
"You've been in here while this was going on? And you didn't call me till now? This is a fire hazard. I could be closed down—"
"Chill out, big brother. You hired her to put on a show, and damn, she's giving you one class act. Although, the first drink free promotion probably has something to do with it. That and the fact the band isn't playing funeral music. Hey, where're you going?"
Alexios had stopped listening to his brother's admiring babble after his "first drink free" comment. Was already pushing his way through the throng of revelers toward the bar. Actually went behind the counter and right up to Sydney's side.
When his fingers encircled the warm skin of her arm she jumped, and automatically began pulling away. Until she saw it was him. Then she frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but he ordered sharply, "We need to talk. Now."
A/N: I told you there'd be fireworks coming up! Let's see what Alexios has to say to Sydney. And if he gives in to that attraction he's feeling for her yet. As always, let me know what you think in votes, follows and comments.