his teammate picked up. “Hey, it’s Will Campbell. Listen…I need a huge favor.”
Chapter Eight
“Hey, baby, is the Wi-Fi password your name? ‘Cause I’m really feelin’ a connection with you.”
Jasmine turned from the table she’d just finished wiping down to look at the source of the pickup line, an intoxicated frat boy sitting nearby. It was the same guy who’d been handing her similarly dreadful lines all evening. Unlike other guys like him who’d been in Steamy Beans during her previous evening shifts, this guy wasn’t hitting on every female employee.
Oh, no. His “charm” was reserved just for her.
He was one of two remaining guys from a group of eight who had come in to listen to Miles’ set earlier. All but these two—her would-be pursuer and his best bud—left after the set. Now that they were within thirty minutes of the bar’s midnight closing time, it seemed her pursuer felt it necessary to up his game.
At first she had smiled and been polite. She hadn’t acknowledged the flirtations, but she’d made sure he and his companions got the food and drinks they wanted.
Hey, it was money in Steamy Beans’ bank. It benefited all the employees.
The first time his hand touched her thigh, the smiles went out the window. She complained about him to May, so May put Tobias on the table instead. Tobias had left an hour ago, however, because he was opening the next day. With May manning the bar and helping the remaining customers there, that left Jasmine to cover the tables in the dining area.
“Are you ready for your check?” she asked, not getting closer to their table.
“Not yet, honey,” he said, giving her yet another head-to-toe scan that she imagined he thought was flattering. “I’m waitin’ ‘til you get off.”
His cohort snorted with laughter over the double entendre. Jasmine’s posture stiffened. A number of responses sprang to mind, all of which would have gotten her fired. She might not love her job, but she needed the money.
“Why don’t I get the check for you so you can pay it before we close?” she said briskly, turning and heading to the register behind the bar before he could answer.
As she reviewed their tab, she heard the chime of the door opening. She looked up in hopes they had left. She almost didn’t care if they walked without paying. When she saw who had entered, her eyebrows lifted.
Will Campbell.
She wasn’t sure how to react to seeing him there. It wasn’t entirely out of the blue, she supposed. She had gotten a couple of voicemails from him over the past two days. The first one caught her completely off-guard.
“Hi, Jasmine,” the message said. “This is Will Campbell. You met me and my daughter Katie in Dr. Parker’s waiting room a couple of months ago. Please don’t hang up now that you know who I am.”
For some reason, that comment and his tone had made her smile.
“I’d like to apologize for losing my temper with you,” the message went on. “I’m sure you’re probably looking at your phone right now wondering how I got your number and why I’m calling. I’m happy to explain both if you’d give me a call back. I’d really appreciate it.”
He left his number, though she had it from the phone’s Caller ID function. Like tonight, she had worked the midnight shift the night he called, so she hadn’t had time to call him back. The next message came the following day.
“Hi, Jasmine. It’s Will Campbell again. Sorry I’m blowing up your phone. The thing is, I’m about to leave on a road trip and I was hoping to talk to you before then about Katie. I thought maybe if I spelled things out, you might return my call. So here goes. I’d really like to talk to you about the work you did with Katie when you were together…the, uh, ballet position stuff. She really seemed to respond to you. I’m hoping you might be open to doing more work with her.”
This time, Jasmine was confounded. She had never dreamed the irate father who had threatened her in the waiting room would turn around and approach her about working with his daughter. She hadn’t been sure how to feel about it. Maybe it was flattering that she made such a positive impression on the quiet child. On the other hand, she’d never thought about teaching kids. In fact, it sounded rather tortuous. Even if it didn’t, it wasn’t something she could imagine shuffling into