stayed cool.
“Thanks anyway, but I’m not leaving yet.” She smiled at him.
The arrogant man leaned right over the bar and tugged at the string of her apron. “You’re not working. You’re taking sick leave.”
“I’m not sick.” She batted his hand away. And if he had a clue he’d know she didn’t have any sick leave to take. People in her position didn’t.
“You still have that poison in your system.”
“It’s really none of your business.”
Connor looked past her. “Luca. She’s not working.”
“Connor, man…” Luca raised his hands helplessly as he walked towards them. “You know what she’s like. There’s no arguing with her.”
“Sure there is.”
“No. There isn’t.” Luca said. “Not for me.” He frowned at Connor meaningfully. “It’s what she wants.”
“I take it you’ve improved your security?” Connor growled.
“Of course.” Luca answered. “Extra on the door and I’ll control numbers inside better too.”
“About time.”
“I am working.” Savannah interrupted before things grew edgier between the two, fully irritated with their paternalistic attitudes towards her. “Neither of you have the right to stop me.”
“No.” Connor looked at her and suddenly, unnervingly, he smiled. “But I’ll do the shift with you.”
“What?”
“I’ll be an extra bartender for the night.”
“ What? ” That from Luca this time.
Savannah had now lost the power of speech.
Luca cleared his throat. “My father—”
“Will never know.” Connor finished smoothly, tearing his blazing gaze from Savannah to look coolly at Luca. “And even if he does find out, he’ll be appreciative of my support at this difficult time. If there’s trouble in Summerhill, it affects all of us.”
Luca’s mouth hung wide. Then he moved. “Fuck it. You’re both used to being in charge. Both used to giving the orders and being obeyed.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m gonna leave you to duke it out.”
“Thanks.” Connor nodded. “It’s a friendly gesture, you understand.”
Luca glanced from Connor to Savannah and back again. “I think I get it. Real friendly .” He walked towards the restaurant, suddenly bursting into laughter.
Savannah stared after her him. That was it? The guy wasn’t going to say no to Connor? Didn’t anyone say no to Connor?
“Don’t you have your exclusive little empire to run?” Savannah turned to glare at him.
“I have a good team in place,” he answered idly, walking round to her side of the bar. “I’m capable of delegating.”
She bet he was. Figureheads, that’s all the Hughes family were. No doubt there were a zillion minions up at the Lodge doing all the real work.
“Isn’t pouring drinks beneath you?” She watched him tap out a text and then pocket his phone, before looking about to familiarize himself with the bar set up.
“Not at all. I’ve worked every job there is at the resort. Still do, on occasion.”
Oh as if. She’d done every job in her father’s small hotel, she’d worked round the clock trying to get it all finished and right. And she’d failed. Connor here had no clue if he thought a half hour here and there watching the minions counted as anything. “Like operating the ski lifts?”
He nodded.
Because it was fun eyeing up the snow bunnies. She bet he only did an hour or so on shift before collaring some babe to help him use those extra special items he kept in his First Aid kit. “What about the beds?” she asked acidly. “You make those too?”
“If I’m the one who’s made a bed messy. Sure, I’ll fix it up.”
She met his pointed stare, refusing to absorb any hidden meaning. Refusing to be impressed. “Can you make a screwdriver?”
“Screaming orgasm, sex on the beach, wallbanger… I can do them all.” He turned to face her, standing too damn close in the process.
In his black jeans and that form-skimming tee, he looked so sharp her eyes watered. And
“Thanks anyway, but I’m not leaving yet.” She smiled at him.
The arrogant man leaned right over the bar and tugged at the string of her apron. “You’re not working. You’re taking sick leave.”
“I’m not sick.” She batted his hand away. And if he had a clue he’d know she didn’t have any sick leave to take. People in her position didn’t.
“You still have that poison in your system.”
“It’s really none of your business.”
Connor looked past her. “Luca. She’s not working.”
“Connor, man…” Luca raised his hands helplessly as he walked towards them. “You know what she’s like. There’s no arguing with her.”
“Sure there is.”
“No. There isn’t.” Luca said. “Not for me.” He frowned at Connor meaningfully. “It’s what she wants.”
“I take it you’ve improved your security?” Connor growled.
“Of course.” Luca answered. “Extra on the door and I’ll control numbers inside better too.”
“About time.”
“I am working.” Savannah interrupted before things grew edgier between the two, fully irritated with their paternalistic attitudes towards her. “Neither of you have the right to stop me.”
“No.” Connor looked at her and suddenly, unnervingly, he smiled. “But I’ll do the shift with you.”
“What?”
“I’ll be an extra bartender for the night.”
“ What? ” That from Luca this time.
Savannah had now lost the power of speech.
Luca cleared his throat. “My father—”
“Will never know.” Connor finished smoothly, tearing his blazing gaze from Savannah to look coolly at Luca. “And even if he does find out, he’ll be appreciative of my support at this difficult time. If there’s trouble in Summerhill, it affects all of us.”
Luca’s mouth hung wide. Then he moved. “Fuck it. You’re both used to being in charge. Both used to giving the orders and being obeyed.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m gonna leave you to duke it out.”
“Thanks.” Connor nodded. “It’s a friendly gesture, you understand.”
Luca glanced from Connor to Savannah and back again. “I think I get it. Real friendly .” He walked towards the restaurant, suddenly bursting into laughter.
Savannah stared after her him. That was it? The guy wasn’t going to say no to Connor? Didn’t anyone say no to Connor?
“Don’t you have your exclusive little empire to run?” Savannah turned to glare at him.
“I have a good team in place,” he answered idly, walking round to her side of the bar. “I’m capable of delegating.”
She bet he was. Figureheads, that’s all the Hughes family were. No doubt there were a zillion minions up at the Lodge doing all the real work.
“Isn’t pouring drinks beneath you?” She watched him tap out a text and then pocket his phone, before looking about to familiarize himself with the bar set up.
“Not at all. I’ve worked every job there is at the resort. Still do, on occasion.”
Oh as if. She’d done every job in her father’s small hotel, she’d worked round the clock trying to get it all finished and right. And she’d failed. Connor here had no clue if he thought a half hour here and there watching the minions counted as anything. “Like operating the ski lifts?”
He nodded.
Because it was fun eyeing up the snow bunnies. She bet he only did an hour or so on shift before collaring some babe to help him use those extra special items he kept in his First Aid kit. “What about the beds?” she asked acidly. “You make those too?”
“If I’m the one who’s made a bed messy. Sure, I’ll fix it up.”
She met his pointed stare, refusing to absorb any hidden meaning. Refusing to be impressed. “Can you make a screwdriver?”
“Screaming orgasm, sex on the beach, wallbanger… I can do them all.” He turned to face her, standing too damn close in the process.
In his black jeans and that form-skimming tee, he looked so sharp her eyes watered. And
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