Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
He examines my knees hooking his hands gently behind them to pull me forward from the bartop. “I’m okay.”
His hands are so warm though. They feel nice.
I instantly think of the kiss I’d just witnessed and imagine his fingers fanning the flames across my skin. I rebuke every and all weird thoughts about my boss immediately. I’m just tired.
He leans down and blows across my bare skin. Immediate heat slams into my body so hard that my eyes close. Dizzy, when I open my eyes he’s standing up and not even touching me. “Better?”
I blink down at my skin, you can barely see the small dots of blood and the glass is all but gone. He holds up a rag and dumps it in the trash. “Shall we continue this in my office?”
This? What is this?
The corner of his mouth lifts in an enticing smile. “The whiskey tasting, Cleo.”
“Yes!” I did not need to yell in his face while my own is probably blushing like crazy. What’s wrong with me? I fight the urge to fan myself from the heat pulsing through my body. “I mean, yeah probably safer for the glass.”
Kill me now.
“Yes, we must keep the glass safe at all costs from the new trainee.” He winks and holds out his hand. I grab it and hop off the bar and turn around just in time for the same guy kissing that one girl holds up two fingers.
Two of what? I panic for the two seconds it takes Cyrus to grab two new wineglasses and a bottle of wine without the label. He tosses it in the air then spins it like spin the bottle on the bartop, pops open the cork and pours them to the brim. “May the blood of the gods nourish you.”
Say what? I frown and reach for the bottle. “What is—”
He jerks the bottle away. “You’re still in training. Whenever someone asks for a number of something but doesn’t specify what, you will always assume it’s for this one bottle.”
“Okay.” I watch him put it away in the freezer. “What’s in it?”
He smirks and leans forward until his face is inches from mine. “Why the blood of the gods, what else would it be?”
I narrow my eyes. “No, but seriously what is it?”
“I’m many things, Cleo, but I would never lie about something so sacred.” He winks. “Think you can help me carry the whiskey to my office or are you going to trip?”
I make a face. “I can walk and carry a few glasses.”
“Excellent, follow me.” He grabs four, I follow him slowly and when I look over my shoulder it’s to see the same couple answering a random dial up phone attached to the wall by a door. They hang up. The door opens into complete darkness. Before they walk in, they toss back their drinks and throw the glasses onto the ground while the door closes behind them.
Do they sell drugs here?
What the hell did Jake get me into?
It sure as hell isn’t a speakeasy.
I gulp and hurry after Cyrus. “So the drink, does it have like psychedelics in it?”
He sets the glasses down onto his large mahogany desk, it matches the bar perfectly. The rest of the room is pristine with large historical paintings, shelves of books on one side and a fireplace with two large blood red chairs facing it.
He leans against his desk and retrieves the glasses from my hands. “We don’t sell drugs if that’s what you’re insinuating and every drink here is as pure as the way the moon chases the sun.”
Weird analogy but I run with it. “So that room back there—“”
He holds up a finger. “You still haven’t signed your NDA have you?”
Crap. No. I shift uncomfortably on my feet. “It was the only thing I haven’t signed but it seemed like a strange ask about a bar so I wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Simple.” He pulls out a sheet of paper and an ancient looking quill with a large orange feather on the top of it. “You are here to serve. You live and die by your service as anyone in this industry does. The customer however, is not always right. If you see something wrong, always come to me personally. We have a lot of wealthy clientele. Understand?”
No, not really. No bar has ever asked me to sign an NDA. Does he mean local celebrities? A chill runs down my arms. “Okay, I mean I guess if I have to sign to work here.” And I have nothing for me back home and I’m still waiting on Jake what choice do I really have?
He grabs a glass and sips. “Do you trust me?”
“Do I have a choice?” I counter with a smirk. “Sorry that sounded snarky.”
His eyes change in a way that’s so intense I take a step backwards. “You’re alone in Seattle. You’re all…alone. Aren’t you?” His whisper sends chills down my spine, his voice sounds like it’s really far away. I’m suddenly warmer than I’ve been all day. He leans over me. “My advice would be to sign and discover the treasure of the Nile, maybe then you’ll finally find yourself.”