At that moment I remembered Shank’s daughter and the real possibility that Stefan was already fucking her and endangering our very livelihoods. “Speaking of that, did you hire a new bartender without telling me or Kane?”
“Yeah, a couple.”
Slamming my hands on my desk, I exploded with anger. “Jesus Christ, Stefan! We have policies for a reason. You didn’t think you should tell the other two owners of this club that you hired new people?”
Confused, he shrugged. “What’s the big deal? One used to work for us. You remember Shelley. She came in and asked for her job back, so I said yes. She was one of my best bartenders. The other one said she’d been told the job was hers. I figured you’d already met with her in one of those fucking meetings I hated. Lola’s doing fine.”
“Lola Sheridan?”
“Who’s that?”
“The person you hired.”
Stefan shook his head. “No. Lola’s last name is Markess.”
“Does she look like her father?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
“How the fuck would I know? I just met her. It’s not like we’re doing the meet the parents thing. I don’t do that dating shit, remember? Fuck ’em and forget ’em, although I might keep her for a while.”
Stefan’s grin told me he’d already slept with the woman who was likely Shank’s daughter. Nothing fucking good could come of this. “Please make sure to give Kane her information so he can check her out.”
“Okay. I’m out. I have a bar to run.”
As he turned to leave, I yelled after him, “And do me favor. Don’t fuck around with these two.”
He waved my suggestion off and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I know the routine. All work, no play. Got it.”
He left me sitting there with more worries than I’d had when he came in. And I still had no idea how to win Olivia back. All I knew was I had to. I couldn’t go on like this.
I waited a few minutes before I headed out, determined to convince her not to give up on us. After stopping for flowers, I climbed the stairs to her apartment and had to admit I was in totally new territory. I’d never tried to win Rachel back after finding out what she’d done. The walls went up and that was it. We were done, and whatever feelings I’d had hardened over.
But now I had to be the man I’d been before Rachel broke my heart. The problem was I didn’t even know if he existed anymore. I’d pushed him so far down inside me I couldn’t be sure he was still in there.
I stopped in front of her door and stood with my hand up in front of me ready to knock for a moment as I told myself the same thing I’d said every day since offering Olivia her job back.
Don’t lose her. Do whatever you have to, but don’t let her go.
My heart pounded at the sound of her footsteps coming toward the door. I squeezed the stems of the roses in my palm and waited in anticipation. The door opened, and our eyes met for the briefest moment before she slammed the door closed again.
“Olivia, please open the door. I just want to talk.”
Silence.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to the door. “Olivia, please…”
She said nothing, and my heart sank as I heard the sound of her footsteps walking away.
Every night I knocked on her door, and every night she refused to speak to me. Some nights she opened the door and stared at me with those beautiful brown eyes so full of pain. Other nights she didn’t even open the door, ignoring me as I stood on her doorstep pleading my cause. The florist near the club either thought I was the world’s biggest player or the world’s saddest man in love. Each night he gave me the look that told me he was sure it was the latter.
Then each day I’d see Olivia at work and it was as if nothing ever happened the night before. With each time she called me Cassian and each cold glance she shot my way, I grew more miserable without her. I’d had no idea how much stubbornness lived in her. Day by day, she seemed to grow stronger in her choice to never speak to me again other than at work, and every minute I spent with her at the club was more painful than the next.
I loved her. I wanted her. I needed her. And nothing I did mattered if I couldn’t convince her of those things.
Two weeks into my torture, I couldn’t take it anymore. This double life of tepid professionalism by day and ignoring me by night had to end. Late Friday afternoon, I walked into her office to let her know.
She sat behind her desk focused on her work on an upcoming club event I’d handed over to her when we were still together. I stood watching her, remembering how happy she’d been then when I’d come to see her.
Looking up at me, she said coldly, “Did you need something, Cassian?”
God, I hated when she called me that. I knew it meant she was keeping me at arm’s length. “I wanted to let you know I plan to knock on your door every night until you let me in. I don’t care if it takes a week, a month, or a year, I’m going to be there every night at nine.”
“What happened to you working until midnight each night?”
“This is more important. So just know we have a standing date every night at nine.”
“And if I never let you in again?”
I wanted to think she was joking, but the stern look in her eyes told me she was serious. It didn’t matter. She might believe she’d never let me in again now, but I wasn’t going to give up.
“Then every night I’ll knock on your door and hope that’s the night you finally remember what we were.”
Olivia said nothing in response, but it didn’t matter. Someday she would.
Epilogue
Cassian
The gala at the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts kicked into high gear, but even as I schmoozed and glad-handed with the organizers to thank them for being club members for years and local politicos to ensure the safety of the club, my attention never really left my watch. No matter how much I needed to be at this event for Club X, I needed to be at Olivia’s apartment by nine for a far more important reason.
In a room full of gorgeous women in expensive designer gowns, there wasn’t one that even made me look twice. None of them were the woman I wanted, even if she hadn’t opened her door for me in three days.
I took the last drink of my champagne and placed my glass on a nearby table. Nearly eight-thirty, if I didn’t leave soon I’d be late. I made my way over to say my goodbyes, but a woman in a red gown stepped in front of me, blocking my way.