Her Dirty Bartenders (Men at Work #5) - Mika Lane Page 0,8

I was paying the shit out of my dues.

I’d brought my first load of towels to the basement, when I ran into Marni. I tried to smile bravely.

“How’s it going? This is so cool. We’re working together,” she exclaimed.

Yeah. So cool.

“Hey, Marn, see that guy over there with the free weights?”

She craned her neck. “With the tattoos?”

“Yes, exactly. Is it possible that’s Adam Levine?” I asked quietly.

She nudged me. “Oh yeah. That’s totally him. We get celebs in here all the time. See, I didn’t create the top gym in Denver for the movers and shakers to go somewhere else.” Smacking me on the back, she laughed and walked away.

The place had quite the crowd. She wasn’t kidding. I’d never seen such a collection of flawless men and women, none of whom seemed to be breaking much of a sweat as they kept their toned bodies in top shape.

I lowered my head when I passed Adam Levine. Even though he had no idea who I was, I didn’t want him to know I was going through a loser patch in my life. I was sure he’d been there at one point or another, like when Maroon 5 was trying to get off the ground, and that he could probably relate to my challenges. But now was not the time to get into it. He looked busy.

Plus, I was supposed to be working.

As I filled a second cart with dirty towels, I passed an announcements board that listed all the gym’s classes—spin, yoga, weightlifting, basketball—when I spotted a little flyer about yoga teacher training.

Holy shit. Just what I needed.

What I didn’t need, on the other hand, was the eight hundred dollar price tag.

And as if seeing Adam Levine at my lowest moment wasn’t bad enough, who did I spot on the treadmill but Maze, the bartender from Tableau, who’d cut Marni and me off for getting a little tipsy.

I ducked behind a pillar so I could watch him.

Cripes, I’d known he was hot the night he served us at his club, but now that he was full-on running, drenched in sweat in a T-shirt clinging to his muscles and occasionally dabbing his forehead with the white gym towel around his shoulders, I could see how freaking gorgeous he was.

He pressed a couple buttons on his machine, and it began to slow. He did that thing people on treadmills do, where they jump on the sides of it while it winds down, and stepped off the machine.

Shit. I didn’t want him to see me. I mean, Adam Levine had probably seen me, but he didn’t know me.

And now he was headed straight for me.

Oh my god oh my god.

The pillar I was hiding behind would serve me for only a few more seconds.

“Hey, Maze, how’s it going?” a female voice called.

I peeked to find he’d turned to greet a tall, impossibly thin woman with long, blonde hair.

“Oh. Hi, Annabel.”

While his back was to me, I took the opportunity to exit with my nearly full cart. I practically ran to the elevator that would take me to the basement, hiding my face until the doors closed, protecting me from the humiliation of the ‘perfects’ of the world, accepting that I was anything but.

6

Stell

I didn’t have the heart to tell Marni that even though she’d hooked me up with a job when I was about as down and out as I’d ever been, I thought I should keep my eyes open for an opportunity better than collecting dirty towels at her club.

And I’d found something particularly interesting on Craigslist that morning. I responded to an ad for a hostess, and immediately got a call.

Wow. Guess they really needed someone fast.

“Hello,” I said in my most hostess-like voice.

“Is this Estella?” a deep voice asked.

I slipped my bedroom door closed. I didn’t want Marni to hear me.

“Yes,” I said breezily. “But you can call me Stell.”

“Great. Can you come in for an interview today?” the man asked.

“Of course. Could we do it later in the day, though? I have one other interview earlier,” I lied.

It was good to seem in demand.

“Sure. What time you wanna come by?”

I paused as if I were checking my calendar. “How is three p.m.?”

“Super. I’ll text you the address. See you then.”

“Oh, before you go, can I get your name—”

But he was gone. Geez.

“Hey, Marn,” I said as we were on the way to the gym.

She’d told me they were going to pay me ‘under the table.’ I got the impression