His Secret Agenda

He stacked dirty dishes to the left of the three-bay sink. “How so?”

“I should’ve hired you in the first place.” She gave him a pat on the arm, and damn if he didn’t want to back up. Out of range. She moved away to empty the garnish tray. “You charmed every girl in here—heck, you even managed to get Noreen to smile, which, believe me, is an accomplishment.”

“She was laughing at my suggestion that she stay to help clean up.”

“Well, that makes more sense.” Allie washed her hands and dried them on a clean towel. “I’m sure she told you cleanup’s not part of her job.”

He rubbed the back of his wrist over an itch on his forehead, then resettled his hat on his head. For some reason, Allie had asked him to wear it while he worked. “I couldn’t repeat what she told me. At least not in mixed company.”

Allie waved at a departing customer. “Noreen was one of the very few females in here tonight immune to your charms. And don’t think I missed that brunette with the big—” he raised his eyebrows and she grinned “—lungs hand you a cocktail napkin. I’m guessing it had her name, phone number and even a hand-drawn heart on there, as well.”

He kept his attention on the glasses he was washing. “It wasn’t a cocktail napkin,” he mumbled.

“I saw her give you something, and it wasn’t very big.” Allie swept her hair back and put it in a messy, sexy knot at the back of her head. “Please tell me she didn’t write her number on toilet paper.”

“Not toilet paper, either.”

“Come on,” she said, swatting him with the towel. “Don’t be cruel. I’m too tired to play guessing games.”

He pressed his lips together as he rinsed a glass, then cleared his throat. “It was her thong.”

Silence filled the room. He glanced at Allie, just to make sure she was still breathing.

Her mouth popped open. “Oh, my God. You’re a rock star.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “Well, the poor girl was no match against you. You throw out some mighty strong pheromones.”

To Dean’s everlasting shame, heat climbed his neck. “She was just…friendly.”

Allie laughed even harder. “I think it’s safe to assume she wanted to show you how friendly she could be. Now I have to ask—did you keep it?”

“I thought it’d make a nice addition to my collection.”

“No doubt about that.” She poured herself a diet cola. “I hope you washed your hands after touching it.”

“Washed them and then stuck them in the disinfectant just to be safe.”

Allie picked up her tray. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that.”

He waited until she was out from behind the bar before saying, “And you were right.” She stopped and looked at him. “Her name and number were on the thong,” he said, “along with a little heart.” Which had half amused, half horrified him.

Allie laughed again as she went to finish clearing tables.

Dean lifted his hat long enough to run a wet hand through his hair. He needed to watch himself. She was damn likable, but he couldn’t let his guard down.

Allie came back and set her tray on the bar. “So, tell me about this job in Saranac Lake.”

She stood on tiptoe and reached for her soda. He caught a brief, tantalizing glimpse of smooth cleavage and a lacy black bra.

He cleared his dry throat. “Tending bar at the Valley Brook Resort. Starts Monday.”

“I’m impressed. The Valley Brook is pretty upscale. You must’ve wowed them with your interview.”

“Like I didn’t wow you?”

She tapped her fingertip against her glass. “Let’s just say I’m used to more…vocal interviewees. You know, people who speak when spoken to.”

“Good thing for me the people at Valley Brook didn’t have the same problem.” He dried his hands and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. “Besides, I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but it’s important for bartenders to be good listeners. Not talkers.”

She set her glass down with a soft clink. “Well, then you must be a great bartender.”

He almost grinned. “I saved your ass tonight, didn’t I?”

“That you did. Could you hand me a clean rag so I can wash off the tables?”

He handed her one, making sure he didn’t touch her, then took a long drink before asking, “What happened to the bartender you did hire?”

“Not sure. She seemed excited to get the job, and was even apologetic when she called to tell me she wasn’t coming in.” Allie shrugged. “Guess she had a better offer.”

Yeah. She had. He’d made sure of it. Katherine had found out that Terri Long’s real ambition was the stage. She’d followed her boyfriend—a ski instructor—to Serenity Springs. Dean had pulled some strings and got Terri hired as an understudy in an off-, off-Broadway show, effectively ending Terri’s desire to work at The Summit.

He wondered if it ended her desire for her boyfriend, as well.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “Hope you find someone else.”

“OKAY, GUYS, NIGHT’S OVER,” Allie told the last three men left in the bar. “Last call was forty-five minutes ago. Time for you to move on.”

Two of them slid their chairs back, but the dark-haired one in the middle, the biggest one, didn’t budge. “I’m not done with my drink,” he slurred.

She sighed. Why were the biggest ones always so much trouble? “You’ve got five minutes to finish it and get on your way. Or else I call the cops to come and escort you out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” the taller, lankier one on the left said, his Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallowed. “Right, guys?”

The shorter one with the thick neck nodded, while Big Guy glared at his beer.

“Five minutes,” she repeated, walking away.

Since Dean had everything under control behind the bar, she finished wiping off tables. She hated to think about what her night would’ve been like if he hadn’t shown up. Even Noreen had said he wasn’t half-bad.

And from Noreen, that was high praise indeed.

Allie scrubbed at a sticky spot on a corner table. She had to admit Dean had impressed her. He’d not only saved her ass—as he so eloquently put it—but he’d stuck around to help clean up. Which meant she might get home and in bed before the sun rose.

Yep, no doubt about it. Dean was her hero. She wiped the table dry before setting the chairs on it. She just had to figure out how she was going to persuade him to give up his job in Saranac Lake and work for her instead.

She ran her hands down her jeans, picked up her rags and headed behind the bar. “You have everything under control back here?”

“So far,” Dean said.

He was quite the man of understatement. But during the past few hours she’d come to realize that although he talked slowly and took his time, he was far from stupid or lazy. He got the job done, kept the customers happy and seemed at ease whether trying to sweet-talk Noreen into cleaning, or shutting down a young coed when they’d overimbided.