next afternoon, Mack heard the clunk-clunk of his manager’s chunky-heeled boots making a loud beeline for his office as soon as he arrived.
Sonia produced far more noise than seemed possible for a woman who stood barely five feet tall and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. But Sonia walked like she lived—pissed off and deliberate. Which sounded like someone else he was getting to know. She and Liv were either going to start a girl gang or kill each other.
Sonia appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips. “What are you doing here so early?”
Mack lifted his chin to indicate he wanted her to come inside. “Shut the door. I need to talk to you.”
She whined. “Is this going to take long? Because Joe fucked up the bourbon order, so unless you’re here to save my ass, I don’t have time for a chat.”
“You do remember that I’m your boss, right?”
“Yeah, for all the good it does me. You made any progress on hiring a new bartender yet?”
Mack crossed his arms, feeling smug and looking forward to proving it. “I just might have, actually.”
Sonia paused before asking skeptically, “What kind of progress?”
“I know someone who needs a job.”
“Great. When can he start?”
“She.”
“When can she start?”
“Well, I haven’t actually convinced her to take the job yet. Or even asked her if she wants it.”
Sonia grunted. “I don’t have time for this.”
Mack nodded again at the chair in front of his desk. “I really do need to talk to you, though.”
His serious tone raised the maturity level in the room. Sonia shut the door and sat down. “This sounds serious.”
“It is,” he said. “I need this to stay between us.”
The maturity didn’t last long. “Oh God, you got someone pregnant.”
“What? For fuck’s sake. No.”
“Good. Because I am not ready to be an aunt or anything, and Lord knows I am no one’s idea of a godmother.”
“Can you stop talking for a minute?”
She sank against the chair. “I’m all ears.”
“I mean it, Sonia. You can’t speak a word of this to anyone.”
“Fuck you. When have I ever—”
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I just—this is serious.”
“Then what the hell is taking so long? Spit it out.”
He picked up a pen and twirled it. “You know Royce Preston, right?”
She fake gagged.
“I take it that’s a yes.”
“I only know of him. Why?” She groaned and tilted her head. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going into business with him or something. I swear to God, I’ll quit. Like, right fucking now.”
“Mind if I finish what I was saying?”
“You better, because I will not let you sell your soul like that.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Just out of curiosity, why?”
Sonia shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something about him that makes my vagina want to send out a cease-and-desist email.”
“Interesting visual.”
Sonia pointed at her crotch. “The vag doesn’t lie.”
Given the context of their conversation, it seemed especially inappropriate to be talking about her vag for any reason. “Have you ever heard any actual stories of him, you know . . .”
She squinted. “What?”
“You know.”
“Chaining teenage girls up in his basement? Selling Beanie Babies on eBay? You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Sexual harassment.”
Sonia’s eyes narrowed further. “What is going on?”
“I just heard a rumor.”
“About sexual harassment?”
“Along those lines, yeah.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
Well it had surprised him, and that bothered him. How had he missed it? He’d known Royce for, what, five years? And though they weren’t friends by any definition, they ran in the same circles. Played in charity golf tournaments together. Attended the same Chamber of Commerce parties. Rubbed elbows at sporting events. In all that time, he’d never once seen anything that had given him a sexual harasser vibe. Yet Sonia had picked up on it without even knowing the guy. Were women just born with a radar for that kind of thing? Or did they just develop it through life the hard way?
“Oh shit,” Sonia suddenly breathed.
He blinked out of his thoughts. “What?”
“You’re going to do something, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The Superman look.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That you’re about to grab a white horse and race in to save the damsel in distress.”
Okay, that was the second fucking time in as many days someone had accused him of thinking he was some kind of hero, and it was officially pissing him off. “Don’t you think someone should do something if there’s an asshole out there sexually harassing women?”