Page 7 of Maverick

A lot.

So I take care of my tables, and leave the boss alone. They all seem to be in the middle of a big conversation, and it doesn't seem like the moment to interrupt. Servers who ask how things are while your mouth is full have a special place in hell. That'll never be me.

I'm in a little alcove near the kitchen giving my feet a break from the high heels, the only downside to this job honestly, when that warm smooth voice sends a shiver up my spine.

"Cadence," he says.

What's a girl supposed to do? I smile up at him, and firmly move him into the do not fondle category in my head. "Hey Boss. What can I do for you?"Dammit Cady, stop batting your eyelashes. He is not for you.Those suckers have a mind of their own though, and it's a struggle to stop them.

He clears his throat, eyes dancing over my face. "Ah, we need a few more orders of wings."

"More? Wowzers. You guys sure can pack it away."

He grins, just a little one, and I have to lock my knees. He has dimples. Honest to god dimples.

Dammit. How badly do I really need this job?

It's the only thing keeping my head above water, so pretty damn bad.

"I'll put in the order for you, and bring it out as soon as it's ready."

Maverick nods slowly, eyes roaming around my face with what I like to think is appreciation. "I'll wait."

"Right. Okay." I move to the order window, and speak quietly to Benny the cook then circle the very large man standing in the middle of the servers prep area to scan my tables. All of them seem happy, most of them busy watching Jasmine's sexy hips sway on the stage. I don't blame them. She's mesmerizing.

I turn back to Maverick, who's still standing there, hands in his pockets. But he's not watching Jasmine and her spectacular hips. No, he's looking at me.

"You know, this is a really great club you have here," I say, hugging my tray to my chest.

His eyebrows raise, and he tilts his head. "Yeah?"

"I'll admit, when I first came in for the interview, I wasn't sure what to expect. But it's been fantastic so far. The staff is great, the customers are happy, and the atmosphere is just...fun." Hearing the way Bree talked about this place, I knewit wasn't the typical strip club, not that I know much about those, but I didn't really know what to expect.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and lord help me, those dimples pop again. "I'm glad to hear that. We've worked hard to make it a place people want to be."

"Well, you've succeeded." I can't help but smile back at him. "I'm really enjoying working here."

"I'm glad," he says, voice a little rough. He clears his throat and glances away for a moment. "This is a strange coincidence, isn't it? You working here?"

"Not really. I heard about it from Bree. She came in, hungover, for her volunteer shift one weekend and told me all about it. I was curious and checked the website. When I saw you were hiring, I thought it might be worth applying." Thankfully, they were hiring for evening shifts, which don't interfere with my work at the shelter at all. That's my number one requirement for a side gig. The puppies come first.

He nods, brow furrowed. "I thought you worked at the rescue, though. Like Jonas said, we donated a bunch. What happened to the money?"

Ok, maybe this guy isn't so hot.

The hint of accusation in his voice rubs me the wrong way and a tide of defensiveness rises in me, but I force myself to answer calmly. "I used most of it to fix up the building, some of it to start a spay and neuter program, and a little bit of it for my paycheck."

His brow furrows. "So it's gone? That's why you're here?"

"No, not all of it. But it's not my money. It's the rescue's money. Taking more would be unethical."

"Unethical," he murmurs, absently running his fingers along his jaw.

"Why do I suddenly feel like a criminal for getting a job?" I ask, honestly a little baffled. "Do you not want me to work here?"

His eyes widen. "No. It's not that. I just…it seems like you have a lot on your plate already."

A lot? Try all the things.