bikini, the bottom underneath white jogging shorts and the top partially covered by her unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt. She wore her hair in a French braid with the top feathered softly across her forehead and along the sides of her face. A gold chain encircled her trim ankle, and russet polished toenails, the same shade as her lipstick, peeked out from white leather sandals.
Very sexy, but not in a slutty fuck me way. There was a classy elegance about her that couldn’t be hidden, something that said she was trying to project an image that didn’t belong. She wasn’t one of the bar regulars. He had never seen her before, much to his regret. But he had every intention of seeing her again.
And preferably in bed.
When Bobby, the daytime bartender, called in sick an hour before the start of his shift, Mitch took it in stride. He enjoyed the occasional turn behind the bar on the ground floor of the three-story building and the opportunity to socialize with the regulars. Even though the employees and the bar regulars knew Mitch as the manager, there was a lot more they didn’t know. Such as the fact he owned the three story building and the businesses it housed, including the mysterious and controversial private club known only as Third Floor .
The desirable blonde sat on the end barstool, then took off her sunglasses. Sparkling blue eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes, a sight that definitely stirred his libido.
Mitch flashed his best smile. “Hello, pretty lady. Welcome to the Oasis Bar. I’ve never seen you here before.” A quick glance told him she wasn’t wearing a wedding or engagement ring.
She responded with a beautiful smile of her own. “That’s because I’ve never been here before.”
“I’ll have to figure out how to guarantee you’ll make this your regular hangout.” He placed a bar napkin in front of her. “What’s your pleasure?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And if you say the bartender, we’ll run away together…as soon as the night shift comes on duty. The owner probably wouldn’t take kindly to the bar operating on the honor system between now and then.”
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay.”
He cocked an eyebrow, winked, and fixed her with a teasing grin. “You’re choosing a glass of wine over the bartender?”
She made an unsuccessful attempt to suppress her own grin. “For the moment.”
He liked the way she fell in with his teasing, participating rather than being offended. Humor was important to him when meeting a woman for the first time, along with intelligence and honesty…just three of several qualities he valued above good looks. He grabbed a bottle from the cooler, poured the wine, and set the glass on the napkin. “Anything else I can get for you while I’m here?”
She took a sip of her wine. “Speaking of the owner…is Leander Washington here? A friend asked me to say hello to him.”
All Mitch’s senses went on full alert. Leander Washington ? That was his full name—Leander Mitchell Sinclair Washington. Very few people knew that Mitch Sinclair and Leander Washington were the same person. Certainly not anyone he had day-to-day contact with as manager or in his social or personal life. Leander was his father’s first name. A cold shiver told him how much he despised even the sound of the word. Sinclair was his mother’s maiden name. No one had a legitimate reason to be in the Oasis Bar asking for Leander Washington. No one. Especially in a manner indicating a social connection.
“Leander Washington?” He straightened and shot her a questioning look.
“Yes. The owner.”
Mitch grabbed a towel and wiped down a spot on the bar in an attempt to look casual. “Sorry, he’s not here. You a friend of his?”
“Uh, a friend of a friend.”
“He’s seldom here. That’s why he has a manager on the premises. What’s your name? I’ll leave him a note saying you stopped by.”
Something was wrong. He noted the way she awkwardly
Very sexy, but not in a slutty fuck me way. There was a classy elegance about her that couldn’t be hidden, something that said she was trying to project an image that didn’t belong. She wasn’t one of the bar regulars. He had never seen her before, much to his regret. But he had every intention of seeing her again.
And preferably in bed.
When Bobby, the daytime bartender, called in sick an hour before the start of his shift, Mitch took it in stride. He enjoyed the occasional turn behind the bar on the ground floor of the three-story building and the opportunity to socialize with the regulars. Even though the employees and the bar regulars knew Mitch as the manager, there was a lot more they didn’t know. Such as the fact he owned the three story building and the businesses it housed, including the mysterious and controversial private club known only as Third Floor .
The desirable blonde sat on the end barstool, then took off her sunglasses. Sparkling blue eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes, a sight that definitely stirred his libido.
Mitch flashed his best smile. “Hello, pretty lady. Welcome to the Oasis Bar. I’ve never seen you here before.” A quick glance told him she wasn’t wearing a wedding or engagement ring.
She responded with a beautiful smile of her own. “That’s because I’ve never been here before.”
“I’ll have to figure out how to guarantee you’ll make this your regular hangout.” He placed a bar napkin in front of her. “What’s your pleasure?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And if you say the bartender, we’ll run away together…as soon as the night shift comes on duty. The owner probably wouldn’t take kindly to the bar operating on the honor system between now and then.”
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay.”
He cocked an eyebrow, winked, and fixed her with a teasing grin. “You’re choosing a glass of wine over the bartender?”
She made an unsuccessful attempt to suppress her own grin. “For the moment.”
He liked the way she fell in with his teasing, participating rather than being offended. Humor was important to him when meeting a woman for the first time, along with intelligence and honesty…just three of several qualities he valued above good looks. He grabbed a bottle from the cooler, poured the wine, and set the glass on the napkin. “Anything else I can get for you while I’m here?”
She took a sip of her wine. “Speaking of the owner…is Leander Washington here? A friend asked me to say hello to him.”
All Mitch’s senses went on full alert. Leander Washington ? That was his full name—Leander Mitchell Sinclair Washington. Very few people knew that Mitch Sinclair and Leander Washington were the same person. Certainly not anyone he had day-to-day contact with as manager or in his social or personal life. Leander was his father’s first name. A cold shiver told him how much he despised even the sound of the word. Sinclair was his mother’s maiden name. No one had a legitimate reason to be in the Oasis Bar asking for Leander Washington. No one. Especially in a manner indicating a social connection.
“Leander Washington?” He straightened and shot her a questioning look.
“Yes. The owner.”
Mitch grabbed a towel and wiped down a spot on the bar in an attempt to look casual. “Sorry, he’s not here. You a friend of his?”
“Uh, a friend of a friend.”
“He’s seldom here. That’s why he has a manager on the premises. What’s your name? I’ll leave him a note saying you stopped by.”
Something was wrong. He noted the way she awkwardly
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