Page 4 of Blood Moon

“Oh, that. I wanted to let you know that she will be the bar manager by the end of the month. If you have a problem with that, you can collect your last check and be on your way.” It wasn’t what I’d wanted to say, but his attitude toward her earlier had pissed me off. I had needed to tell him that he needed to keep her busy when I was in the bar, so I didn’t have to be around her. There was something about his attitude toward her that made me change my mind.

“No problem, sir. She’ll make a great manager.” He walked out of the room quickly, as if he was afraid that I might eat him. To be fair, the thought had crossed my mind. I was sure he’d heard the rumors that I did just that during my last hostile takeover. I didn’t, but that didn’t stop people from talking. I mean, you kill one guy for disagreeing with you, and suddenly you’re a murderer. The idea of it was ridiculous. I just wanted to ensure cooperation. Plus, that guy was a dick. None of that mattered now. That was twenty years ago.

I had already decided that Vinny wouldn’t be trustworthy, and his attitude toward Delilah had cemented that feeling. I would have to double check everything he handled until Vinny realized that I wouldn’t put up with him half-assing things. I wanted to throttle him for nearly bankrupting the bar. I could remember a time when it was popular and wanted to get it back to that.

I had been a regular patron of Midnight before I'd been turned. It had been the best karaoke spot in town. Then Vinny took over and focused more on his back-room dealings than in running the bar.

That meant chancing another run-in with Delilah. As much as I wanted to avoid her, I wanted Midnight to succeed, and that would take sacrifice.

Chapter 3

Delilah

The next few days were a blur while I adjusted to my new boss. I shouldn’t have let myself forgive him for having me locked up, but somehow I did, or I tried to anyway. There was something almost magnetic about him. I wanted to be near him. If I were being honest with myself, I would admit that I was seriously attracted to him. I wasn’t ready for that realization yet, though.

Each day was spent trying to ride out the roller coaster that had become my emotions. I was so angry about him locking me up, but I was so intensely attracted to him as well. Part of me hated that Uncle Vinny had let him in on whatever was going on in the backroom. My uncle still refused to let me in on his secrets.

I wanted to beat them both with Uncle Vinny’s bat and force them to tell me everything. I even stormed into Mr. Maxwell’s office and spent a long while yelling at him about everything. It didn’t get me anywhere, but I felt better afterward.

Although I was conflicted, I wanted Mr. Maxwell to take me seriously so that he would listen when I presented my ideas. Midnight had been my home for as long as I could remember. It didn’t matter if I hated the new owner, I couldn’t force myself to walk away. I hoped that somehow, I would be able to come up with enough money to buy the bar from him.

So, I would bide my time, pretending to be a good little worker bee until I figured out how to stage a coup and steal my bar back from him. I spent my days saying, “yes, sir,” and my nights crying in the shower. I needed to get my emotions in check. I went from angry to sad to aroused way too quickly.

I wanted him to take me—anywhere. Maybe I was just horny and should give Ted a call. I wasn’t really interested in him, but I knew he’d be willing. Nah, it really wouldn’t be the same. I guess I’d just keep drooling over my boss.

“Please, call me Viktor. We will be working closely together. There is no need to be so formal,” he insisted again.

“I’m sorry. I can’t get used to calling you by your first name. It’s a respect thing, I guess.” I couldn’t tell him that Viktor was far too sexy of a name for a boss and that I’d been fantasizing all day about sighing his name while he did naughty things to me.

“When our adjustment period is over, I want to start teaching you how to handle the books. I’d like to promote you to the manager at some point. You seem to have a good head for business.” His compliments made me weak.

Every time he told me that I did a good job, or handled a demanding customer well, I imagined him calling me into his office and bending me over the desk. It was surprising how many times in the past couple of days I’d had that same fantasy.

I got the impression that he was avoiding me after our initial meeting. That was basically confirmed when I ran into him in the stockroom.

I walked in to find him doing inventory, which was unexpected, since I knew my uncle had already done the counts. He jumped when the door swung closed, and I cleared my throat.

“Oh, Mr. Maxwell, I didn’t realize you were doing inventory yourself. I thought Uncle Vinny was taking care of that for you.” I needed bottles of scotch and tequila to restock the bar. Wasn’t it just my luck that was exactly what he was standing in front of?

“Ah, Ms. Stone. I’ll be out of your way in a moment. Some of Vinny’s counts were off, and I needed to confirm those suspicions before I spoke with him about it,” he explained, looking from his paperwork to the shelves and back.

“I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose, though. He’s usually very thorough.” I hated lying but felt like I needed to defend my uncle.

“I think we both know that’s not true. I respect your need to protect your family. There's nothing more important, you know. Don’t worry, I’m not going to fire him. I just have to explain that I expect things to be done a certain way and if he can’t handle it, I’ll have to demote him to janitor.” Viktor smirked, and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

“Oh. He wouldn’t like that at all. He’s not exactly the cleaning type,” I responded.

“Well, there are far worse fates that could befall him,” Viktor smirked as if imagining something worse than cleaning the bar.

My hands were sweating, and I was terrified to even think of what he might mean. I attempted to change the subject. “I just need to get bottles to restock. Will that mess up your count?” I walked over by the shelf he was in front of and gestured toward what I had come for.

Viktor took a step backward to put some space between us. So, I wasn’t imagining his avoidance. I never was one to back down, so I took another step toward him, caging him between two racks of bottles. “I think you’re avoiding me, but I can’t figure out why,” I challenged, moving close enough that our chests were almost touching. I still wasn’t sure why I cared. It was better for me if he hated me. Then I could stay mad at him over locking me up the way he had. But for some reason, I just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

I looked up at him and could tell he was uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’ve been swamped, as have you. If there is something you need to discuss, you can make an appointment.”

“I guess I must have misinterpreted your body language, then. It seemed like you were trying to get away from me.” Part of me was baiting him to gauge his reaction.

It worked because he stepped closer, turning the tables and cornering me against the shelf. “Does this seem like I’m avoiding you?” he growled, using his arms to keep me from moving away.