Hiding Danielle
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Hiding Danielle - Isabella Jordan
Chapter One
Hey, baby, how ‘bout bringing me another one of these?
the asshole at the end of the bar yelled at her with a leering grin, holding up his glass.
Danielle Sullivan met his gaze briefly and nodded. Was it so much to hope the guy would leave at some point? He’d been in the bar every night for the last week. It was baby
this or hon
that. Sometimes he brought an asshole friend with him, and he’d proceed to tell the friend throughout the evening that very soon he was going to fuck her, winking at her like an idiot. Other times, he came alone, staring at her until she wanted to run out of the bar screaming in frustration.
Danielle had been a bartender for a few years, and she was accustomed to getting hit on. It wasn’t personal. Most any woman looked fuckable at 2 a.m. to a guy who’d been knocking back whiskey shots all night. She could handle the occasional overly friendly patron.
The asshole in question? He was a different animal. He was becoming a problem.
Turning around to make him a fresh Tom Collins, she missed the new arrival to her bar. It was busy tonight, with a large group of college kids crowded around the pool table in the back and a few young couples sprinkled around the tables. There were the usual blue-collar guys who sat off to the side or at the bar in random seats, trying to catch Monday Night Football.
Danielle headed back up the bar to find the seat on the other end was now occupied. He was watching the game, so Danielle had a chance to check him out.
The night was looking up. The guy was gorgeous, tall with wide shoulders and muscles everywhere, shown off by the T-shirt he wore that was at least two sizes too small. Oh, she wasn’t complaining. The guy’s profile was all sharp lines, high cheekbones and a jawline for days. His dark hair was swept back in thick waves and he totally rocked a short beard.
She didn’t see a lot of guys that looked like him.
Not in any hurry to get him out of there, she made her way to the back to get another bottle of Absolut vodka and a couple of limes to cut up.
A pair of gorgeous blue eyes were on her when she returned. Of course her new patron had beautiful eyes too. She smiled at him, stopping in front of him on the other side of the bar.
Hi,
Danielle greeted. What can I get for you?
His smile stopped her cold. Damn, but he was gorgeous.
Yeah, can I get a vodka tonic with a lemon instead of a lime?
he asked politely, his accent all Brooklyn. He motioned to the bottle of Absolut in her hand. That’ll work.
Right away,
she told him, smiling back. Because how could she not?
Running to the back again for a lemon, she came back to cut it up quickly and make her gorgeous new barfly his drink.
Hey, hon?
the asshole from the other end of the bar crowded around the gate she used to walk into the public area. "This was supposed to be a double."
Danielle nodded, remembering that now. I’m sorry. I’ll make you a double, on the house. Just give me a minute.
I’ll pay for it,
he said, licking his lips and stepping closer. If you give me your number.
Danielle spun on her heel to make the fresh drink, calling On the house!
When she felt hands on her hips and heated loins pressing into her ass, she froze. I’ll take that number,
the asshole said. His breath was hot against her neck, making her want a shower.
Turning to face him, she planted her hands on his chest and tried to shove him back. Sir, you can’t be back here.
Sir?
He crowded her still. "I like that."
And Derek was out sick tonight.
I need you to exit my area back here and return to your seat please,
Danielle was all business, tipping her chin up.
Feisty.
The guy licked his lips but didn’t appear to be trying to move back.
"Now, please," Danielle tried again, wondering if she should let the police know about the situation, particularly when it was just her, Josie and Kara running the joint tonight.
Beat it,
the hot guy threw in, his voice a deep rumble that certainly got her attention even as it seemed to piss off her problem guy.
Color flooded the asshole’s bloated face as he spun around in a huff. Mind your own fucking business, dick.
Her new patron stood up, well over six feet tall and a head taller than her antagonist. His cold glare even made her pause, and it wasn’t directed at her.
I think you need to leave,
the new guy said patiently. Now.
Both Danielle and the asshole watched a muscle jump at that hard line of jaw. The guy looked like he’d been carved from marble and his expression wasn’t one she’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.
Fuck this.
The asshole turned around to shove his full drink into her chest, soaking her shirt, and trying to skirt around her newest patron to make it back out into the public area.
The new guy stepped out to block his path. Holding out his hand to Danielle for the rest of his drink, she automatically handed it to him, watching in delight as he poured the rest of it over the guy’s head.
Don’t. Come. Back,
hot guy warned him. Ever.
He let the asshole pass, shaking his head as the man muttered under his breath, grabbed his jacket off the bar stool and slammed the door of the bar on his way out.
Only a few of the patrons seemed to have noticed the entire exchange.
You okay?
Danielle grinned up at her hero as she grabbed a towel from behind the bar and tried to dry her scooped neck T-shirt that the asshole had soaked in vodka. Hopefully she could avoid looking like she was participating in a wet T-shirt contest.
Yes, thank you.
She meant it. He’s been a problem for a solid week now and our bouncer is out tonight so… yeah, I really appreciate you.
He sank back onto the bar stool, his gaze moving over her. He was trying not to focus on her drying her T-shirt but failing.
Aaron,
he said, holding out a large hand to her.
Danielle.
She shook it.
Huh, you look like a Brandy to me,
he said with a wink.
She shook her head to the reference from the old song. What a good wife you would be.
Like I’ve never heard that before.
She grinned. I’ll get you that drink.
Reaching for her cutting board, she rinsed off one of the lemons and went to cut it. Aaron tapped on the bar in front of him.
Maybe he wanted to talk?
Moving the cutting board before him, she began to carve up the lemon.
Listen, Danielle, I can use some help. Have you worked here long?
She shrugged as she worked. About three years.
Good. You’re full-time?
Danielle nodded.
Between us, okay?
She nodded but when he didn’t say anything else, she looked up into his eyes. His gaze was a study in intensity.
Between us?
Aaron was serious. Okay, she’d see where this was going. He had gotten rid of the asshole.
Yes,
she told him. Finished with the lemon, she grabbed a glass and began to put together his vodka tonic.
While she did, he slid a hundred-dollar bill across the bar. What are Thursday nights like here?
Was he serious? He was giving her money for information. Wasn’t this like some lame TV show?
What would you like to know?
Danielle smiled, tucking the bill in the front of her bra. His bright blue eyes followed the movement and had her confidence growing fangs.
I’m looking for an older man,
he said carefully. About five foot nine, thin build. He has a full head of red hair turning silver and doesn’t smile a lot. Sound familiar?
Oh, yes it did. Always orders a whiskey sour.
Aaron’s smile was triumphant. That’s my guy.
Danielle assembled his drink and handed it to him, excusing herself to handle the bill for a couple in the middle of the bar. When she came back to Aaron he was waiting patiently, watching the game on the overhead screens.
Can I ask you a few questions about him?
Danielle nodded. She didn’t get tips like that every day. Was he an undercover cop?
About how long has he been coming here?
Aaron began.
Not long. It wasn’t until after the kids started back at the university. Sometime around August, I guess,
she explained.
Is Thursday the only night he comes?
Usually.
Then