she can get back to bed.
I locate my clothing, carelessly spread about the neat bedroom discarded while we clawed at each other’s bodies. Once my black jeans and now creased white button-down is on, next up are my polished black shoes, opting to carry the formal black jacket folded over my arm.
I run a hand through my thick, dark hair to tame it into place before pulling my phone from an inside pocket of the jacket and call—“Hemsworth. Wait for me in the alleyway.” Then I disconnect, taking one last look around the bedroom to make sure I’ve not left anything behind.
I take the wooden staircase down two flights to the bar area, using the torch app on my phone to lead the way.
“Hello?” I call out.
There appears to be nobody around, but it is after four in the morning. The low lighting over the bar gives me enough light to see without my phone’s assistance, so I put it away.
I’m not one for skittering away in the night, afraid of a clingy female, so I plan to find Daisy and say goodnight. I had a good time with her.
I look around the bar and call out, “Daisy.” I’m loud enough to get her attention if she’s on this level.
There’s no response.
Light is glowing through the porthole of the swinging traffic door. She has to be here somewhere waiting for me to leave, which makes me want to confront her even more. It irks me to think she’s hiding from me because I don’t chase women, and this is what I am doing now.
I’ll try the back area. If she doesn’t answer me, I’ll leave via the back exit rather than a cop car driving past and catching me leaving out the front at this time of the morning. I don’t need that kind of attention.
I walk through the swinging doors, hoping she will pop up somewhere, but there’s nobody outback.
“Daisy!” I call louder.
Now I’m beginning to feel like a Grade-A fool. Has the bartender skipped out on me? Am I to believe she doesn’t want to face me.
I find the self-locking back door left ajar with a brick. The security system panel shows it’s not engaged for the night.
Well, if that doesn’t scream ‘show yourself out.’ She doesn’t want to confront me with awkward small-talk.
I walk through the steel door, swinging my jacket over my shoulder. “Daisy, I’m leaving now. You can shut the door yourself,” I holler, not expecting a reply but letting her know she can come out of hiding.
Perfect timing. Hemsworth is reversing the car into the alley.
When I reach the sleek, black, executive town car, Hemsworth is already standing beside the open passenger door in a full three-piece navy suit and tie, looking impeccable at this time of the hour. “Sir, did we have a good night?”
I nod before sliding into the backseat while Hemsworth closes my door, and I slump back against the leather seat, manspreading, trying to relax for the fifteen-minute drive.
Hemsworth’s behind the wheel looking in the rearview mirror at me. “Mr. King, home, sir?”
“Home,” I repeat, distracted with my thoughts of an ass born to wear Daisy Dukes and pissed off at myself for still thinking about her.
“May I ask, are you all right, sir? You seem bothered.” Hemsworth has worked for my family for forty-one years.
I lower the back window taking in the chilly night air to temper my annoyance at being dissed by this female when I hear a loud echoing bang.
“I want you to inquire at a more suitable time of the morning about the owner of Queenie’s Tavern and dig deep.”
“Thinking of acquiring it, sir?”
It depends. Daisy lives upstairs. She could be connected to the bar. “No.” I sigh. “I’m just curious.”
As Hemsworth starts to pull away, we are parallel with the dumpster. Two more bangs echo against the night.
Leaning toward the open window, I hear two more rapid, almost desperate sounding bangs.
“Hemsworth... STOP!”
My driver has the car parked and smoothly opening my door before I have my seatbelt off. “I heard it too, sir.” He’s got a can of pepper spray in his hand.
I lift an eyebrow as I step out of the car at his choice of weapon. “Planning on defending me against a dumpster?”
“You can never be too careful, sir.”
Bang... Bang… Bang… BANG!
A muffled scream has both of us scrambling to get the lid open on the dumpster and peering inside.
“Hemsworth, shine the torch on your phone inside while I take a closer look.”
I’m