Magic of Three (13 page)

Didn’t know what they were missing in Tim’s opinion. He couldn’t wait to see Lisa under Julian, legs wrapped around his waist. The thought alone brought a lascivious smile to his lips.

But this couple didn’t look so happy. The woman wouldn’t raise her eyes from her shoes and the man was so red he looked like he was about ready to bust a blood vessel. The bartender had a desperate look about his pinched face, his eyes scanning the room for help.

Tim looked around. The nearest bouncer was across the room dealing with a vomiting woman. Nobody else stood close enough to be of any use.

Seemed like this one was up to him.

He stepped forward, snagging a cool water bottle from the chest to the side of the bar. Women made way for him, taking the drink in his hand as cue that he was on break. Only a few disappointed mutters reached his ears, the occasional stray hand caressing his bare flesh. He made sure to make a mental note about who seemed the most frustrated with his unavailability. He’d find them later and make up for the lack of attention.

He pasted on his best smile, filling himself with happiness and contentment and projecting it out. He wrapped his aura around him like a cloak, hoping to make this as quick as possible. “Hi, can I help you two?”

The man rounded on him, hands already forming fists and elbows bending. “Somebody better come out here and explain some things or there’s going to be serious trouble,” he growled between thin lips and gritted teeth.

Tim raised his hands in peace, laughing as he kept his positive energy swirling around him. He couldn’t respond to the threat with negativity. That only made things worse, escalated the cycle that weakened the barrier and created the portal. “What’s the problem? I can bring you a manager if you want.”

“One of you bastards propositioned my wife,” the man answered, one of his hands grabbing her by the elbow.

“Really?” Tim asked, a picture of amazement and contrition. “Are you sure he wasn’t asking if she wanted to buy a dance? I can’t believe someone would take it farther than that. It’d cost them their job. The management is very clear about their response to that kind of behavior. Pleasure Palace could lose its license if anyone started their own side business. No one wants to be out of a job.”

The man’s jaw clenched as his grip on his wife’s arm tightened, his knuckles whitening. “I know what he wanted. I saw how he looked at her, stripped her with his eyes. He wanted sex, not a stinking twenty.”

Tim resisted the urge to roll his own eyes. How a woman would bring an obviously possessive spouse into a strip club never ceased to amaze him. Didn’t they have any sense of self-preservation? Of course, they were with men like that in the first place. That said something about their ability to make logical decisions. At least this was a situation easily diffused. It happened sometimes, often enough that he’d gotten some practice.

Tim tugged on the feelings of freedom and joy flowing around him, catching the streams from various women nearby. Pulling them in, he tapped into that part of himself that twisted and turned deep inside his soul. The part that truly felt with every iota of his being. He took those tides of positive emotions and built on them, spinning them and weaving them into a tight blanket of pure positive energy. Stronger and stronger, he directed all the good emotions toward the man.

“Are you certain? Do you really want to hurt someone here? Is it worth the cost, the energy to lash out?” With each question Tim sent another wave of positive emotions to envelop the fury-filled husband, each more powerful than the last.

The man blinked under the continuous barrage. His brow wrinkled. He looked around, a faint thread of confusion filling his gaze. His expression seemed lost, puzzled. He slid his grip down to his wife’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t know.”

Tim cocked his head, letting his powers do their work while giving the man alternatives to his rage. “Well, before making accusations you really should be certain.”

“I guess. Maybe I’m overreacting. Tina?” The man looked down at his wife, who still stared at the floor, lips quivering.

When she glanced up Tim could see the tears shining in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. His heart swelled at the pain he felt in her, familiar in its taste, like an animal trapped in a situation it couldn’t control, trapped by someone it loved but couldn’t understand. The instinct to escape warred with the need for acceptance and approval. He pushed a little of his strength and courage at her, giving her back her speech.

“I hate it when you get like this, Adam,” she whispered, eyes beseeching. She reached out a trembling hand to cup the man’s cheek. “I can’t talk to you and you embarrass me. You act like I’m nothing, I don’t exist except as something to get angry about. You go overboard and I’m left in the background watching how other people react to you. Can’t you drop it this time? Please, for me? We don’t have to come back. Please just drop it.”

The man nodded, turning without another word. As the two left Tim walked back to the bar and the bartender gave Tim a weak smile. “Man, I don’t know how you do that, but I’m glad you showed up. I knew that one was trouble the minute he got in line. I just couldn’t catch anyone’s attention.”

Tim shrugged it off. “No problem, Rob. Some people just need a person to help them see that they’re acting liking an ass and give them an excuse to stand down without losing face. That’s all. But I’m glad I could help.”

“I owe you one, man. Tell you what,” Rob offered as he swiped spilled tequila off the bar with a dry white towel. “I’ll buy you a drink for after closing, whatever you want. It’ll be waiting for you. Least I can do after you saved me the hassle of dealing with that asshole.”

“You don’t have to,” Tim answered, turning back to a group of rowdy, hungry women watching him. He lifted his water bottle to them, setting off a peal of giggles and whispers. He took a last swig before handing the empty plastic bottle to Rob to throw away. “But I’m not going to say no to a free drink.”

“What’d you like?”

Tim turned back to the throng of waiting women, letting their energy fill him once more, drawing back what he’d used to end the confrontation and more, feeling his personal buzz shoot him high once more. “Surprise me. I’ve found I like surprises.”

Chapter Eleven

“Ms. Harrington. Ms. Harrington!”

Lisa shook herself, pulling her mind away from Julian’s mind-blowing, panty-drenching kiss and back to the brain-numbing paperwork she was trying to finish before closing brought in a whole other set of numbers for her to crunch. She blinked several times before she could even focus on the bare wood-paneled walls, broken only by the occasional filing cabinet and a single sofa. Maybe she should get a houseplant or fish or something to liven the place up if she was going to be spending so much time here. She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she looked down at the pile of papers and receipts spread on her one office extravagance, her oversized oak desk with ornate tropical carvings.

As the door opened the clink of dishes and the constant murmur of the kitchen and waitstaff filled the room along with the scent of exotic spices, making her wish even more fervently that she could be out there instead of stuck in a windowless back room.

“Yeah? What’s up, Mike?” Lisa asked her manager.

The tall lanky college kid ran his fingers through his tousled red hair. Young but an able employee, Mike didn’t normally look so flustered. “The new girl we hired to replace Trina seems to be working out. But now Renee’s sick.”

Lisa rolled her neck and stretched her arms over her head, trying to loosen her stiff shoulder muscles and stiffer brain cells. She sighed as she looked at tropical picture sitting on her desk. Her dream vacation seemed farther than ever tonight. “Renee seemed fine earlier.”

“Well, now she’s in the employee bathroom praying to the porcelain god,” he replied, lips pursed, looking a little green at the thought. “We need an extra hand up front.”

Lisa winced. Poor Renee, but thank goodness she made it to the bathroom. There were some things a restaurant didn’t need to see in its waiting area, vomit being high on the list. “Sarah’s been wanting a chance at hostess. Give her a call and see if she can come in. In the meantime I’ll cover the spot. As soon as Renee feels up to it call her a cab. I’ll foot the bill. If she’s feeling this bad she shouldn’t be driving.”

Mike sighed in relief, giving her a weak, appreciative smile. “Thanks, boss lady.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes and shook a playful finger at him. “Keep calling me that,” she threatened, eyes narrowed and a mock sneer curling her lips, “and you can handle all those impatient customers on your own. I’ll leave early. How’d you like that?”

Mike shook his head, standing straighter as the weight of the world lifted off his slim young shoulders. “You wouldn’t do that to me. Not when you’re already taking tomorrow night off. You’d go crazy. You practically live here.”

“Watch me,” she growled, not pleased with the truth of his statement. CM meant a lot to her but not everything. She did too have a life outside work.

Didn’t she?

Mike laughed, looking relaxed as he left, the door swinging closed behind him. Lisa took a moment to run a comb through her static-charged hair and slip her black patent-leather shoes back on. It took her a minute to find the jacket that went with her outfit—sliding off her filing cabinet—and shake the wrinkles out of it. She made herself as comfortable as possible when playing with the numbers, not paying much attention to details like personal neatness.

Anything to make the job easier. Food she could handle. Employees flaking out or getting sick she could handle. Irate or deadbeat customers she could handle. But math? Yuck. She worked hard, meticulously, to make up for her numeric disability. But she’d never love it.

As she headed out the door Lisa nodded at a pale and sweaty Renee who stood sagging against the wall near the employee restroom. Poor girl really didn’t look good. Lisa put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Renee, a cab’s waiting whenever you’re ready. Don’t worry about a thing. Call us when you feel better.”

Renee nodded but dashed back to the bathroom, hand cupped over her mouth. Lisa made a mental note to have someone check up on her, maybe escort her home.

The next two hours passed in a blur, a flashback to her startup days working with a skeleton crew, a choice group that still formed the heart of CM. For the most part she enjoyed herself, enjoyed the camaraderie, enjoyed being back in the trenches. It’d been a while since she’d had such hands-on time with her customers. Normally she only saw the ones who were dissatisfied. Seeing pleasure on their faces was a nice change of pace. Made her feel like she had accomplished something. Made her remember the dreams she’d come into this business with.

But one dark spot hovered over her otherwise busy evening. The businessman. She couldn’t be certain but he looked like the same guy from the café that morning. With his white-collar professional clone look it was hard to tell. Perfect haircut. Well-tailored, gray pin-striped suit. Solid blue tie. Well-mannered. Nothing with personality showed in his demeanor.

But he gave her the creeps. Just looking at the man sent shivers down her spine and made her skin crawl. Something was off about him, not quite right. It put her hackles up. She kept a close eye on him, making sure he didn’t give her waitstaff any trouble, hassle any of her men or women. But he kept a low profile. He didn’t complain. He didn’t joke. He acknowledged his server’s presence just long enough to ensure prompt service but nothing more. He didn’t flirt with anyone, male or female, young or old. A lone male completely in his own space, ignoring anyone and anything in his surroundings.

So why did she feel like he was watching her?

When Sarah showed up, grinning and as chipper as if she hadn’t been called in on her night off, Lisa didn’t return to her office. The paperwork could wait. She’d stay late this evening if she had to. She wanted to keep watch on Mr. Businessman, make sure he stayed on his best behavior. Never let it be said that she didn’t look out for her people. She stopped to talk to Mike then wandered over to the bar. She nodded to the bartender but didn’t interrupt him.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Nothing happened. The businessman ate dessert and drank coffee. He paid his bill and left a decent tip, not extravagant but not a gyp either. He picked up his nondescript briefcase and walked out the door. He didn’t so much as visit the john on the way out.

Lisa shook her head. Her instincts were off. Way off. It’d been too long since she’d been in the trenches. She couldn’t even spot a jerk. But she shouldn’t be so surprised. The weird turn in her personal life was obviously throwing everything else off kilter. With a mental shrug she headed back to her office and the massive pile of backed-up paperwork.