Page 18 of Ronan

“Actually, Josie, Liv is working the VIP area tonight. I trust you have the rest of the club handled.”

I glance at her face. She smiles at Finn but gives me a death stare. “Of course, Finn, no problem at all, you know that.”

Finn pulls me away from the bar and pushes me towards the stairs, just as I hear Connor… “Josie, we have already asked you to address us as Mr O’Farrell, please ensure I don’t have to tell you this again.”

Oh great, no doubt that will my fault too. Jesus.

Thankfully, both Josie and I are so busy we don’t cross paths for most of the night. I’m pouring another round of whiskey when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s Olivia, yes?” The voice is deep, rough, with a Russian accent.

I turn around and find a tall, hot as hell Russian guy, smiling at me. His hair is short and dark, he’s sporting a five o’clock shadow, and he has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy. He’s tall, maybe six foot two, and his arms are as wide as my thighs. I can feel myself starting to blush as I skim my eyes over his neck. He has tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

I clear my throat. “Call me Liv.”

“Nice to meet you, Liv. Please, would you like to go for dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Erm…”

“Just one dinner.” He gives me a beautiful smile.

“Erm, okay, yeah, just dinner.”

He places a gentle kiss on my cheek, takes the glass of whiskey from me, and re-joins the others at their table.

I’m in the locker room at the end of the night, grabbing my things when Josie comes in. Grabbing her things, she slams the locker, then starts for the door, but stops and turns to me.

“You really are a whore, aren’t you?”

Oh, here we go.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You… first you try and take Ronan, and now you’re all over Maxim. Why don’t you just fuck off back to where you came from? Better yet, there’s a club in Brooklyn where sex with the slutty barmaids is on the menu, I’m sure that’s right up your street.”

She leers at me, and I’m doing all I can to hold it together. Who the fuck does this bitch think she is?

I’m about to give her a piece of my mind when Maxim appears at the door.

“Is there a problem, ladies?”

I look to him and shake my head.

“Good. Liv, please come. I’m taking you home tonight.” He steps into the locker room and takes my bag from me, placing a hand on my lower back and guiding me out straight past a gobsmacked Josie and out to the back alley where his car is parked.

He opens the back door, and I’m relieved to see that he has a driver. He must be able to sense where my thoughts are, because as soon as he climbs in the back, he turns to me.

“I do not drink and drive, Liv, and I certainly wouldn’t put your safety at risk.”

He takes my hand in his and smiles, his thumb rubbing the back my hand as we spend the rest of the drive learning about one another.

I find out he’s thirty-seven, Andre is his boss, and he will be his successor one day. He doesn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure he’s part of the Russian Bratva.

I tell him I’m thirty-two and originally from Chicago. I tell him I moved here for personal reasons, but I don’t tell him about her. I’m not ready to open that door, not yet. We pull up to my apartment building and I can feel my mood souring.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Erm, thank you for the ride.”