Before I could plead my case, our waiter stepped up to the table and started clearing away the empty glasses. “Could I get you gentlemen anything else?”

“Just the check,” I replied, already reaching for my wallet in my back pocket.

His smile fell. “Uh, actually sir, your guest, the blonde woman? She covered the check on her way out.”

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

He swallowed and nodded. “She, er, she actually told me to tell you that it was paid with her severance.” He whispered the last word as if it was offensive. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but…”

I held up my hand to silence him. The night needed to end. I stood and pushed back from the table, thankful that I’d valeted my car around the corner. I wanted to get behind the wheel and press my foot down on the gas until I could feel control fill my veins once again.

“Julian, you can do whatever you want. I’d love to have you on board for this project, but I’m not going to beg. The numbers are there. You’ll make back everything you invest by the end of the year. After that? The sky’s the limit.”

He stood and shrugged on his leather jacket. “Yeah well, you’d make my decision a lot easier if you could just get along with Lily.”

I thought back to the way she’d looked at me earlier. Full lips tugged into a frown. Wide, bright eyes narrowed into slits. A rosy tinge marring her tan cheeks.

“It’ll never happen.”

Chapter Eleven

Dean

I was on hour ten of a fifteen-hour workday when Zoe waltzed into the manager’s office at Provisions.

“Of course, please, let yourself in and start disrupting me. I was hoping to stretch this into an all-nighter.”

My words dripped with sarcasm, but they didn’t deter Zoe. She plopped down on the leather seat opposite mine and kicked her feet up onto the desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She leaned forward and grabbed the heavy metal paperweight she always liked to toy with. “I just like to watch how the master works.”

The air conditioning kicked on and half a dozen papers flew off my desk. I didn’t even blink. “Pick those up, put the paperweight back, and get your feet off my desk. They smell.”

She grunted as she bent down to retrieve the spreadsheets I’d just reviewed. “I think that stench is actually your attitude. It’s been rotten ever since you got back from Nebraska.”

“Iowa,” I corrected, licking my finger and flipping through the resumes in front of me.

She frowned. “There’s a difference? I thought it was all just corn fields.”

I smirked. “Good point.”

“Y’know Provisions has done really well for its first month. Better than you projected.”

She was right. The restaurant was killing it. The money we’d invested in advertising was really paying off. “How’s it going out front? Staff responding well to the management and everything?” I asked.

She grunted. “Oh, sure. It’s great except for the fact that I just had to tend bar for the last six hours. I’ll take ‘Jobs I’m Overqualified For’ for 500, Alex.”

I laughed. “I appreciate you helping out, but you’ll be happy to know that I just hired two new bartenders this afternoon. I’ll need you to get Brian to go over the basics with them before they’re put on the floor tomorrow.”

She sighed with relief and sunk farther into her chair. Her hair seemed even shorter than usual, framing the feminine features she tried so hard to hide.

“Y’know, I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did the other night.”

My eyebrows rose with curiosity. “With Lily?”

“Yes with Lily! She was gold, my friend. You should have talked to me before you had your little hissy fit.”

I shook my head. “Not you too, Zoe. I’m seriously sick of being scolded.”

She laughed. “Then maybe stop acting like a child.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I was too annoyed to speak, and she was trying to fight the smirk spreading across her lips.

“You find her attractive don’t you?”

I sighed, deeply and heavily.

“C’mon, admit it,” she prodded.

“I actually haven’t thought about it.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded, calling my bluff. “Close your eyes.”

“Zoe, get out of my office. I have work to do.”

She stood and leaned over the table. “Humor me.”

I shook my head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Her thin lips curled into a smirk, but she held her ground. I knew from experience that Zoe wasn’t going to leave. She’d once made me stand outside of a restaurant for thirty minutes because she’d thought she’d seen Lady Gaga walk in. Spoiler: it wasn’t her.

I huffed out a breath and closed my eyes, fully expecting her to laugh. Instead, her voice filled my office, reminding me of the one person I’d tried all day to forget about.

“Picture Lily standing at your office door. She’s patiently waiting for you to finish up your paperwork so the two of you can head out to dinner. She dressed up for you, wearing something dark, and short, and tempting. Her hair is down and wild. Blonde in a shade that can’t be bought in a bottle. Her brown eyes find you behind your desk and she smirks, knowing you’ve been waiting all day to see her. You drag your eyes down her body—”

“Zoe,” I interrupted, keeping my eyes closed. “Do you think she could be holding food? I’m really hungry and in my fantasy, I’d really love a bacon cheeseburger.”

She groaned and I opened my eyes to see her heading toward the door of my office with crossed arms. “No really, Zoe. Keep going, but now can you describe the burger?” She flipped me the bird and rounded the corner out of my office. “What kind of cheese does it have ’cause I really hate American!”

I laughed as she slammed my office door shut, but I wasn’t fooling anyone. Of course I knew Lily was gorgeous. I had every contour of her heart-shaped face memorized. Contained within it were the most kissable set of lips I’d ever seen and bright eyes that saw right through my bullshit. I replayed the scene Zoe had created for me. Lily standing in my office door in a little black dress was a fantasy too sweet to comprehend.

If only she and I could shut up for ten minutes, the sex would be the best of our lives. Angry. Hard. Fast. Not love. Not even close.

War. 

Chapter Twelve

Dean

I glanced up from the resume in my hand to take in the nervous candidate sitting across from me. He’d been in my office for five minutes and already my patience was wearing thin.

“Where did you attend culinary school?”

“What school?” he asked, seemingly confused by the question.

“Cul-in-aaarrry school,” I repeated, stressing the phonetics of a word I shouldn’t have been explaining.

“Ah, yes. Well no, I didn’t go.”

“Have you worked in any upscale restaurant before?” I asked.

He shook his head, just as confused as before. I sighed and tossed his resume onto my desk. It topped the list of under-qualified applicants for the day.

“Perfect, you can see yourself out.”

His lip quivered, but I couldn’t muster an ounce of sympathy. I was looking for a consultant for my next restaurant and I’d just spent the morning interviewing a slew of idiots.

“Alright, bud, let’s go,” Zoe said, stepping into my office. She’d been hovering by the door for the last few interviews.

“Is the interview over?” he asked, glancing back and forth between us. I couldn’t confidently say he even knew what planet he was on at that point.