Chapter 6: Consequences
Rhiannon's POV
It was Wednesday evening before John ran out of excuses not to go to the bar. He needed to talk with Rich about some finances anyways, it wasn't like he cared if she was working that night or not. Rhiannon who?
Rhiannon watched him stroll through the bar, dodging a couple fighting over a plate of nachos and three girls dancing along to "Dirty Little Secret" by the All American Rejects as it played through the speakers.
He tipped his chin towards her, stumbling a little mid stride as he made eye contact with her. She beamed at him. He furrowed his brow but still smiled back at her. She dipped her chin, turning back to the cocktails she had been busy making. He disappeared down the hallway to Rich's office.
Lauren bumped her shoulder. "You better wipe that smile off your face before someone thinks you're actually into him."
Rhiannon laughed. "You should have seen him this past weekend. I'll have him eating out of my hand in no time. He was practically drooling."
Lauren dramatically placed a hand on her hip. "Then you two have that in common. I'm gonna have to mop where you were standing when you saw him."
"You're the worst, I hope you know that," Rhiannon joked.
"And you're a blind fool. Someone has to point out the obvious to you before you get your heart broken by a sexy old man."
Rhiannon faked a gag. "It won't be me."
"We'll see about that." Lauren set three shots on the bar in front of the three girls who had been dancing earlier.
Rhiannon rolled her eyes and carried the two cocktails she had finished over to where two men sat chatting at the corner of the bar.
John appeared from around the corner and sat down in the center of the bar.
"What can I get for you?" Rhiannon asked.
Lauren shot a scathing glare at her, but she ignored it.
"You like to play games, Rhiannon?" he asked. He knit his fingers together and placed them on the polished wood of the bar.
Rhiannon leaned forward, placing one hand on the bar in front of him. "I guess it depends on the game. I hate Uno, but I love Truth or Dare."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Cute. You know it's been years since I've seen you. You could have just said, 'Oh, John, it's so nice to see you again. It's me, David's daughter.' You shouldn't be surprised when people don't recognize you after five years."
Rhiannon lifted a slitted black eyebrow right back at him. Oh, she had known this was coming. She had prepared a response for just this situation.
"You know, the tits are new, but my face hasn't changed. If you'd taken a second to look me in my eyes, you might have recognized me." She turned and reached for a glass. Then, she stood on her tiptoes to reach a bottle of expensive scotch from the top shelf. A favorite of his, if her memory served her. She poured him a glass and turned back to him.
His jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowed. She placed it in front of him.
"You know, I think you didn't say anything because you can't wait for dinner this weekend. I think you've had a little crush on me for years." He took a sip from his glass.
She fought the rising heat in her cheeks. She couldn't blush. He couldn't know he was right. She choked out a laugh.
"You're a filthy old man. You wish I wanted you."
He smirked at her. He took another sip from the glass and sat it back on the bar, mostly empty now. "Oh, so Friday night at six, you're not going to be waiting on me to come pick you up?"
"Don't get carried away now," she answered. She licked at the split in her lower lip. "You owe me a good meal after letting me get slapped like that. I don't care if you're there or not."
John reached across the bar, knocking over his glass. The remainder of the amber liquid pooled onto the bar. He planted his hand on the bar, in between where her hands rested. "Whoops," he breathed.
Rhiannon turned away and grabbed a rag, walking the two steps closer to the spill. Wordlessly, she leaned forward to wipe up the spill. She watched his face as she wiped it up.
His eyes darted to her exposed cleavage, then drug up her neck, to her lips, and then to her eyes. His gaze was so heavy she could feel it like phantom hands.
"Good girl," he murmured to her.
She fought the heat pooling in her core. She would be in control of this. He wouldn't play her. Rhiannon simply turned away from him, taking the glass and setting it in the washtub of dirty glasses. She could still feel John's eyes heavy on her body. That's right. He wanted her. More than she wanted him. She hoped.
John got up from his seat and went back to Rich's office. He was being foolish. This was a losing game. He saw how the other men in the bar watched her work. He knew exactly what they were looking at. He couldn't stop himself from doing the same, those pert tits, that round a**, that tiny waist. The only woman he'd ever met with eyes like hers was her mother, and John had been envious of David because of them. Rhiannon's cocky little smile, that fire that burned so hot she could fill a room with her personality. He was losing his mind.
Rhiannon ignored him as he left. She would make her point. She could gawk over him on Friday, as long as he couldn't tell that's what she was doing.
Lauren was engrossed in conversation with a blonde haired, blue eyed man with a big beard. He wore a dirty backwards ball cap. Rhiannon watched her friend giggle at something the man said. Rhiannon turned to the two men waiting to order, Lauren could flirt a little while longer.
"We're out of grenadine," Lauren reported to Rhiannon as she topped off a rum and coke for a red haired woman.
"Oh, okay. I'll grab some out of the back." Rhiannon slipped out from behind the bar and turned down the hall.
John was standing in the doorway of Rich's office, one hand on the door frame as he leaned in talking to Rich. She flicked her gaze away from him and down to the storage room at the end of the hall.
Who cares how that blue pin stripe shirt fits him? Who cares how his navy slacks fit him? Who cares that the way he has his sleeves rolled up shows off the ropes of muscle in his arms? Certainly not her. She marched down the hall.
Rhiannon heard him follow her into the storage room. She clenched her jaw just barely. Refusing to give him the pleasure of acknowledging him, she turned her back to the doorway completely. She started sorting through the bottles, looking for the grenadine.
His breath was on her neck, a hand softly resting on one of her hips.
"Go away, John, I'm working."
He leaned in, mouth practically brushing against her ear. He reached his free hand into the stash of bottles. "I'm just helping."
Rhiannon's jaw tightened. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of reacting, but d*mmit if she didn't feel chills run down her spine. "I don't recall asking for help."
He sidestepped slightly, but one hand still rested on her hip. He grabbed the grenadine and held it toward her. "I don't recall asking for the attitude."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but couldn't stop the way her head tilted, or the way her slitted eyebrow quirked up. "It's on the house."
He smirked. His icy blue eyes turned nearly blazing. They flicked down to the floor and then back up to meet her gaze. He cocked an eyebrow back. And suddenly, slowly, his hand was sliding down from her hip, down her thigh, and he was sinking to one knee.
The sight of him on his knee in front of her nearly made her mouth water. The feel of his hand down her thigh and carefully down the back of her calf made her core turn molten. He picked up one foot and placed it on his knee.
She hadn't realized her shoe had come untied. He set to work tying it into a neat bow and then flicked his eyes back to her.
"Wouldn't want you to trip. I can't stand the thought of paying you workman's comp." He gently placed her foot back on the floor and stood.
His breath was hot on her face. Her lips had parted just barely. If she tipped her face up, just half an inch...
Before she could finish the thought, he stepped back and turned towards the door. She snapped her mouth shut. What happened?
And then Lauren was in the doorway. John left without more than a word, grabbing a container of salt she knew he didn't need.
"What the f*ck was that?" Lauren hissed.
Rhiannon grinned deviously. "You owe me twenty dollars."