Saving Us (The Billionaire Brothers of NY Duology #1)

9. Harper

CHAPTER 9

Harper

“ S o, we have some hotshots here tonight on one side, apparently. Some millionaire brothers from a financial company downtown, wining and dining their clients. I don’t think they’ve ever been here before,” Pete explained while he stocked the bar. I was getting the tables cleaned and prepped for the group. We only had about ten minutes before their scheduled time for the room began, but they never arrived that early on a Saturday night. Most business types were out to dinner first and would get to us by 9:30 or 10.

“What company are they from?” I asked as I was lighting the candles in the dimly lit space.

The VIP rooms were on the upper level of the club, with a perfect view of the dance floor and DJ below. There were eight private lounge rooms on this level, four on each side of the wide opening to below, all visible to each other. Seemed a bit haughty if you asked me, as if they wanted to parade amongst themselves who could afford the life. But I understood the aesthetic of it. They were all open to the middle of the club overlooking the dance floor, with their own staircase directly to the action. There were two bars on each side of the upper floor, so Pete and I had two rooms to work. The lounges were separated by a ceiling high wall of opaque glass, but were open to each other at the bar. It allowed me to bounce between the lounges easily.

Pete pulled out the portfolio and looked at the calendar.

“PFA.”

That didn’t ring any bells.

“And the other room?” I asked as I came behind the bar, searching for the champagne flutes. We always had champagne on a silver tray for the guests upon their arrival. I realized Pete wasn’t answering my question.

“Pete?”

“You don’t wanna know,” he eventually whined.

I stopped pulling out the flutes and stared at him.

“Nooo,” I complained as my elbow flopped on the bar in front of him, my chin landing in my hand. “Again?”

“Yep,” he sang in response.

Ugh.

Another bachelor party. But then I had an idea.

“Who’s working the other bar next door?” I asked.

“I think it’s Garrett,” he answered as he finished cleaning his last glass.

“Does he owe you any favors?”

His sly smile said it all. “No, but he thinks you’re the hottest thing in this place. I bet if you asked him, he would change rooms with you.”

I wasn’t so sure; bachelor parties were the bane of everyone’s weekend here. Even a bachelorette party was better. For some reason, the guys got really carried away at these things. And most times it wasn’t the actual bachelor but his married friends who hadn’t been out enough that caused the problems.

I bounded out the back of the room and down the hall to the other set of lounges. It was worth a shot, and I wasn’t below begging him. Peeking inside the dark room, I didn’t see anyone at first. The candles were lit, the flutes full of bubbly, so maybe their guests were about to arrive.

“What’s up, Harper?” a voice said from behind.

“Shit,” I said, my hand flying to my chest. “Becky, you scared me. How the hell are you able to walk so quietly in your…” I peered down at her feet and noticed her wiggling toes.

“Fuck that, I can’t put those things on until the guests are walking up the stairs. What’s up?” she said as she walked around me, her arms full of cloth napkins and small plates.

“Is Garrett on with you tonight?”

Becky kept walking away from me, obviously still needing to prep her room. She flitted around, setting the napkins and plates where she wanted them before heading to the bar and reaching for her bag. I felt her pain as she stuffed her feet into her shoes.

“Nope, he called in tonight. Lisa’s on in here with me, she ran to the cellar to get more tequila. Can I help with anything?”

Damn. There went my idea. Eh, I liked Becky too much to give her the bachelor party anyway, probably was for the best.

“No, had a question for him, I’ll catch him next time he’s in, thanks. Have a good night.”

She barely smiled, but I got it. It was crunch time. Checking my watch, I realized how late it had gotten and that I was wasting valuable time over here rather than in my own lounges getting them ready. Running back down the hall, the best I could in the death-inducing spiked heels, I rounded the corner, barely staying upright.

And ran right into a hard, rock solid chest.

That smelled divine.

And familiar. Very familiar.

Firm hands grabbed me by the upper arms to ensure I would stay upright as my eyes lifted to confirm my assumptions.

It couldn’t be.

How was this happening?

“Harper?”

The voice was deeper than I remembered, but full of surprise. He himself not expecting to see me here. The deep notes of his voice seemed to reverberate in parts of my body a voice shouldn’t hit. His hands were still holding my arms as I stood motionless, almost in a stupor, as my eyes slowly moved up to his face.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warmer yet, if that was even possible.

How can one little word sound dangerous while turning you on?

I was totally flustered. This was not what I was expecting for my night. I wasn’t embarrassed about my job here, everyone in my life knew about it. But for some reason, I didn’t want him to know about it. Backing away, almost shrugging out of his hold, I knew I probably came across as cold and somewhat apathetic.

PFA.

Shit, I should’ve realized. I should’ve known it was them: Parker Financial Associates . We had our official meeting last week, their acronym was in my own calendar. My disbelief had to be what he saw on my face as I stared at him. But I had to resume my professionalism regardless of us knowing each other outside of the club.

Regardless of him having his mouth between my legs just last night.

On my worktable, at the shop.

Probably the best almost-sex I’d ever had.

I couldn’t breathe. But that would be expected. He was a beautiful specimen of a human being; any breathing female would be attracted to him. That’s all it was. I was attracted to him; there were no feelings involved.

At. All.

None.

My thoughts of him on and off since last night, on the table, were normal. That was a unique experience. Anyone would think about it.

Constantly.

Straightening my back and pushing my shoulders up, I tore my eyes from his, as I took careful, measured steps to the table on the side of the room. Once the tray was firmly in my grip, I spun on my heels, plastered my fake club smile on my face and got to work. I approached Gage and his group that had gathered, with my offering of champagne filled flutes.

“Welcome to The Velvet Rope .”