Page 3 of Come As You Are
“Of course. What do you need?”
He sat in the worn chair in front of my desk just as I had many times when I’d come to speak to Antonio about something that needed his attention. I’d thought being Antonio’s assistant manager had prepared me to take over for him after his death. How foolish I’d been; how little I’d known. Stepping into his shoes had been as unfamiliar and ungainly as me stepping into my mother’s high heels when I was five. No matter how often I had watched either of them, my first steps threatened to land me on my face.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, and I internally groaned, but waved my hand in the air to encourage him to continue.
“Just spit it out,” I said.
Sebastian grimaced. “We’re running through alcohol like we’re comping every other drink.”
While I appreciated my lead bartender for his direct approach, this was one moment I wished he would have prefaced his statement with a bit more dissembling. I struggled to draw in enough breath to ask my next question.
“How?”
Sebastian shook his head, those hazel eyes filled with sympathy. “I don’t know. When I did inventory, we’re muchfurther down than we should be in the storeroom. I’m going to need to place an order with the distributor.”
My gaze shifted from Sebastian to my computer screen. I knew very well, the distributor’s bill was one of the ones I’d been floating as long as I could, but a club could not run without alcohol. “Place the order,” I said.
“We’re also running low on some of our top shelf brands as well.”
I stood and walked to the window that overlooked the club floor where I observed several of my employees setting up for the night. “Do you have any idea who’s responsible?” I asked, hating to think that any of the people below would do such a thing. They’d all been with Antonio for years, had been devastated by his death, and pledged their loyalty to me.
Behind me, Sebastian sighed, a sound that sent a delicate frisson skating up my spine. Although I’d moved beyond my childish crush, I wasn’t immune to Sebastian’s appeal, and understood how so many fell so easily under his spell. I just wasn’t going to be one of them.
“I wish I did,” he said. “Our inventory system is still done by hand, and we weigh the bottles at the beginning and end of each night. Even though we enter it into the computer, we don’t have any tracking to know who takes bottles from the storeroom or how much is being poured. There’s state-of-the-art tech that weighs the bottles on the shelves for us and would allow us to match pours to customer orders as well as monitoring who retrieves new bottles with pass keys for the storeroom.”
“We’ll have to improvise something,” I said. “We can’t afford anything like that.”
“I know.” His voice turned gentle. “I’m sorry, Livvy. I hate to give you news like this, and I hate to think that one of our people is stealing from us. Antonio always treated us like family, and I can’t imagine someone taking advantage of you.”
I turned to face him and saw the truth of his statement in every line of his face and body. “Thank you,” I said.
I was about to tell him to go back to work when my club manager appeared in the doorway. Where Sebastian was akin to a god, Mal had always reminded me of Severus Snape with straight, black hair framing a pale, sharp-featured face. The black turtleneck and jeans he always wore further enhanced the likeness and made him seem as if he was in perpetual mourning, an observation made more apt by the dour expression on his face as he entered my office. It was the same expression Mal wore when he told me my brother was dead, and exactly like that time, he was hesitating.
“Just tell me,” I said.
“Olivia, I am so sorry. The health inspector finished his inspection. We have a vermin problem that will need to be rectified or we face a fine and possible closure.”
Fortunately, there was a couch in front of the observation window to catch me as my knees gave way. I sat down heavily. We’d been subjected to a surprise inspection this morning after the San Francisco Health Department received a complaint.
“We’ll have to get someone in as quickly as possible,” I said as I mentally added that to the numbers I’d been reviewing. “Can you find someone?” I asked Mal.
“I’ll make it my priority today.” Mal dipped his head to me and left.
A glass of water appeared in front of me, and I looked up at Sebastian’s concerned face surprised that he was still in my office, and more than a little embarrassed that he had been present for Mal’s report. I took the water and sipped it, grateful that Sebastian always seemed to know what I needed. This wasn’t the first time that a small gesture from him had been enough to lessen a tense or uncomfortable moment since Antonio hired him three years before.
Sebastian remained while I got myself under control and tried to formulate a plan for dealing with the latest issues facing my club. While it struck me as odd, his presence was welcome, and I slowly relaxed. At least until Sebastian’s phone buzzed with a phone call. I closed my eyes and prayed for it to be some good news.
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll tell her.” He tucked his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, Liv, Andrew needs you downstairs. Seems he’s got a new boy and wants you to take a look before he hires him.”
I rolled my eyes. Andrew was my lead dancer and in charge of all the go-go boys who worked at Illyria. He was an unrelenting diva. If the dancers weren’t such an integral part of Illyria’s success, and Andrew such an amazing choreographer, I’d have fired him once the club became mine. It was the only disagreement Antonio and I ever had about this place, and somehow, Andrew seemed to know how I felt.
As I made my way down to the dance floor, I was sure he’d already hired this guy without checking with me. We already had enough dancers. In our current financial situation, I couldn’t have him committing our resources without getting my approval, and I fully intended to let him know that.
“Hey, boss,” Andrew said as I descended, Sebastian at my back, my silent guardian, my protector.
I stood tall. My natural height enhanced by the three-inch heels I wore, and channeled Sebastian’s fortitude and calm into my body as I greeted Andrew in return. I succeeded. Mostly. But my resolve faltered as I turned to take in the young man standing by Andrew’s side. While he looked uncomfortable, playing with his fingers and shifting his weight from foot to foot as his awed gaze shifted from place to place.
While I was pleased to see that Illyria’s beauty seemed to affect him as much as it did me—Antonio had modeled the space on the Gilded Age theaters of old—it washisbeauty that stunnedme. He looked so young I prayed he was over twenty-one, tall and broad, with the kind of body that came from hard work instead of the gym. His dark hair was shaggy, as if it hadn’t been cut in far too long, and his clothes, though clean, looked well-worn. It was his eyes that caught me though. Dark brown and framed by lashes so thick he seemed to be wearing eyeliner. They brushed his sharp cheekbones every time he blinked, and I swore I heard them brush against his creamy skin like an angel’s wing as it fell from grace.
