Love Discovered in New York (The Washington Triplets) (2 page)

Standing in the middle of my minimally decorated living room, my eyes dropped back down to my laptop, reminding me of the email from my father. I briefly debated calling Marisa and Mikaela about Dad’s email. But I decided against it almost as immediately as the thought crossed my mind. Although the three of us were identical, born only minutes apart, we couldn’t be any more different.

Marisa was the mature one. As the oldest of the three of us, she was the typical type-A, responsible, good girl. In the eyes of our parents and teachers, Marisa could do no wrong and she seemed to thrive off of her perfect image. Perfection was a hard standard to compare myself to so I didn’t even try. At the age of five, I resigned myself to the fact that I would never be as perfect as Marisa. And thinking back, even at five years old, that was such a freeing and liberating feeling.

Mikaela was the introvert. As the middle triplet, she had always been quiet and kept to herself. But right before the three of us were supposed to go to college together, Mikaela changed. Without explanation, she decided that she didn’t want to go to school with us. Mikaela was always reserved, but something felt different with her and my gut told me there was more to her reclusiveness than she let on. I thought it would be a temporary thing, but after all these years, she remained distant.

The day after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, I moved to New York. Two years later, Marisa, Mikaela and I were living completely different lives. We kept in touch, but we weren’t as close as we could be. Although I loved them both dearly and we had an unbreakable bond, it was suffocating being the youngest triplet.

Especially when everyone considers you the rebellious one,
I thought with pursed lips as I headed into the bedroom. Ever since we were young, I’d never been afraid to try something and fail. I was loud, brash and outspoken. I loved things that made me happy and rejected things that didn’t. And for that, I was labeled the rebel of the three of us. As we got older, I was labeled a rebel period. They said I couldn’t be tamed and I embraced that.
Why would I want to be tamed?

Walking into my closet, I pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a sexy, black top. I worked my body into the form fitting jeans and then turned around in front of the mirror. Standing in just jeans and a black lacy bra, I twisted in order to check out the tattoos that ran down both of my sides in small cursive lettering from my ribcage to my hips. I quickly ran my hand down the black font of the tattoo I got two years ago. And then I turned to focus on my newest tattoo.

Imitation makes you who they are. Individuality makes you who you are.
I read the words silently as I ran my forefinger down the recently healed tattoo. After a minute, I shook off the nostalgia that started to settle into my subconscious and I finished getting dressed. Twenty minutes later, I was out the door and walking ten blocks to Duke & Duchess. The heat felt magnified by the concrete of the sidewalk. The smell of grilled onions mixed with exhaust pipe pollution and wafted in the air. The sounds of people, cars, and a random dog or two filled my ears.

I love New York,
I thought as I tried to work through the anger that pulsed through my veins. Over the last two years, I made this my home.
Too much bullshit, drama and unfulfilled expectations in Chicago. This is home now. Especially after everything with Mom and Dad. This is home.

I ran my fingers through my curls and shook off my hurt and anger toward my father. I swallowed the sadness and pain of my mother’s death. And I pushed down the pit in my stomach from the distance I felt growing each day with my sisters. Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders twice before shaking it off.

By the time I arrived to work, the anger regarding my father’s upcoming wedding was almost undetectable. Even though I was still pissed, my coworkers and customers weren’t going to be able to tell that anything was wrong. I paused outside of the opulent front door of the brick building.

Exhaling slowly and deliberately, I opened the door to the bar and sauntered into the wide open space. I had only gotten about halfway across the room before I heard an appreciative whistle. Looking to my right as I continued to move toward the employees-only break room in the back, I saw Stephen Grayson, another bartender.

“You know I can’t resist you in those jeans, Mya,” Stephen called, as he dropped a large crate onto the bar.

With a short laugh, I shook my head and responded, “You’re going to have to. Now stop being creepy.”

I opened the door to the break room and scrunched my nose up. The break room resembled a locker room and smelled like a kitchen. Holding my breath as long as I could, I quickly put my handbag into my locker. Tucking my keys and phone into my pockets, I was out of the room in a minute.

Walking to the bar, I watched the muscles in Stephen’s arm flex as he placed different bottles of liquor on the expansive shelf. Between his bulky muscles and killer smile, Stephen was hot. And his personality wasn’t bad either. He was kind of funny and kind of charming at times. And when we made out a year and a half ago, it wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t great. It was a drunken night and I quickly decided it was in poor judgment and we should just be friends. But even though he was a self-proclaimed bachelor-for-life, it always felt like he was still interested in being more with me.

I stopped at the opening to get behind the bar and eyed him suspiciously. “Did you already do inventory?”

Putting the last bottle on the top shelf, he turned around to face me. “Nicks did it before he had to run out. So it’s just me and you here,” he answered with a smile.

I gave him a perplexed look in return. “Okay,” I said slowly, stretching the word out.

“So we could head to the back and mess around a little,” Stephen offered, as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You wish,” I sneered as I pushed past him to get behind the bar.

“You’re right. I do,” he admitted, the amusement apparent in his voice. “And I know you do, too.”

I whipped around quickly so I could look him in his eyes as I answered, “Hell no.”

Stephen laughed heartily and then started cleaning glasses. “Girls don’t usually tell me no. You know you are the only one who has ever said no to me. But I get it…you’re anti-relationship and if you ever let me put it on you, you would fall in love.”

“I’m not interested. At all.”

“Again, if you weren’t anti-relationship—”

“Let me clarify,” I interrupted. “I’m not interested in you at all. At all, Stephen. The world could end and hell could freeze over and I would still be like ‘nah, I’m good.’”

He mumbled something, but I ignored his comment and started putting the clean glasses away.
I’m not even going to feed into this conversation because Stephen and I are not happening. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever,
I thought with an exaggerated eye roll.

We worked steadily making small talk about nothing in particular, when Nicks burst through the door.

“Good news!” Nicks announced as he marched over to the bar. With his shaggy brown hair and laid back personal style, Nicks looked a lot more disorganized and disheveled than he actually was. “I hired two new bartenders and two new waitresses. They start Saturday.”

“Nice!” I exclaimed. Kelsey and I hardly ever got the same weekends off because Nicks didn’t have enough qualified bartenders to handle the demand of the growing popularity of Duke & Duchess. “Now it looks like Kelsey and I can get into trouble more often.”

Nicks laughed as he headed to his office. Feeling Stephen’s eyes on me, I glanced over at him.

“What?” I asked.

“You and Kelsey are, without doubt, trouble.”

The bar filled slowly and then suddenly, the entire place was packed. Thursday nights were generally just as packed as weekend nights. The louder the crowd, the louder the music and I thrived off of the energy.

“Hey, handsome! What can I get for you?” I flirted with Jim, the older man who owned the deli across the street. Every day after work, he’d come in and get a beer before walking home somewhere in the neighborhood. After serving Jim, I moved my attention to the man standing beside him.

I paused for a second as I was caught off guard by his eyes. More brown than hazel in color and fiercely piercing, they were expressive and beautiful. I could feel their intensity and it was alluring. His eyes seemed to darken in the sexiest way as we stared at one another.

Very sexy…much like the rest of him,
I thought as I quickly and discreetly checked him out. I took in his full lips, perfect teeth, broad shoulders, and flawless skin.
Yeah, he is definitely what I’m in the mood for tonight,
I noted as my body reacted to the instant attraction. I caught the way his eyes dipped and lingered on my mouth before meeting my eyes again and I knew the attraction was mutual.

Licking my lips, I greeted him. “Hi, what can I get for you?”

“Oh…no ‘hey handsome’ for me?” he asked, smirking. “Should I be offended?”

Although his question took me by surprise, it was the sound of his voice that really gave me pause. His voice was rich and textured like music and with each word, I felt like it was strumming my entire body.

Feeling a smile playing at my lips, I cocked my head to the side. “Are you feeling slighted?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning on the bar. “So what are you going to do to make it better?”

The question alone awakened desire inside of me. Visual images of what I could do to make us both feel better temporarily overtook my brain. I ran my bottom lip between my teeth, pushing the vivid picture of this sexy man naked out of my head. “Are you flirting with me?” I questioned in mock indignation.

He shrugged nonchalantly as his smile grew. “Are you flirting with me?”

Amused by the banter, I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips in an attempt to contain my smile. “Well as you can see, I’m busy. So what can I get for you?”

“Two pitchers of whatever domestic beer you have on tap,” he answered smoothly. Our eyes never left one another as I moved down the bar to grab two pitchers. “What’s your name?”

“Mya,” I responded, filling both pitchers with his beer of choice. Setting the beers on the counter, I raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Do you want to start a tab?”

“Yes.” He handed me his driver’s license and his credit card. “Please.”

Looking at his credit card, I swiped and punched in his information to put the card on file. Before handing the cards back to him, I checked out his driver’s license again.

Colton Davis. Age twenty-six,
I thought with a smile as I stared at the tough, non-smiling face in the photo.

“You were smiling at my driver’s license,” Colton pointed out as he reached out for his cards.

“I was smiling at your mug shot, tough guy,” I retorted, putting the cards in his hand.

He chuckled and my skin warmed at the sound. “They said not to smile,” he explained in defense of the photo.

“Well, you have a nice smile so…” I flirted, trailing my sentence off as I pushed the two pitchers of beer across the surface of the bar to him.

I always flirted with my customers. Actually, I flirted with everyone. It was second nature to me and it never meant anything. But when Colton held my gaze, my breath hitched.

“I knew you were flirting with me,” he said with a wink.

I tossed my head back and laughed. “You wish,” I called over my shoulder as I moved on to help the next person.

For the next few hours, Stephen and I worked like a well-oiled machine. I handled the right side of the bar while he handled the left. When he was busy and I was not, I helped him out…and vice versa. It wasn’t until almost midnight that there was a lull. The crowd had diminished to a few notable groups, some seated in VIP and several people on the dance floor.

Even though I was scanning the place to take stock of the number of people in the building, my eyes kept landing on the area where Colton was sitting. Colton and his friends were in one of the VIP sections. A waitress was assigned to every section so there was no need for him to return to the bar. But even though he hadn’t been back up to talk to me, throughout the night, I’d caught him staring at me.

He’s clearly interested and his eyes are gorgeous,
I thought as he laughed at something his friend said.
And he’s sexy as hell.

Leaning against the bar, I was lost in thought as I watched Colton.

“Earth to Mya!” Stephen barked as he held a heavy crate of clean glasses.

“Oh, sorry,” I apologized as I moved out of the way. Stephen set the crate on the bar and we quickly put the glasses away, wiping them down first.

“You see those chicks over there?” Stephen asked, gesturing with his head toward three women who looked like models. They were dancing wildly on the dance floor.

I nodded in response and he continued, “I’m going to see if they need another drink. And a place to stay tonight.”

“Yeah…okay,” I laughed sarcastically. “Go for it!”

Stephen glared at me. “You’re laughing at me? Do you think I won’t be able to get their numbers? You know I’m always up for a challenge.”

“You are going to ask for all of their numbers?” I asked him with wide eyes. “At the same time?” Stephen never ceased to amaze me with the size of his balls…figuratively speaking, of course. “You have a chance with one…maybe two if you keep your assholiness to a minimum…but all three? Not happening.”

“Challenge accepted. And I’m going to do it before they leave for the night. I need to get my game plan together to prove you wrong,” Stephen added, wiggling his eyebrows, before walking to his side of the bar to take an order.

I shook my head and looked back over to Colton’s group. I couldn’t do anything but laugh when our eyes met. For the tenth time, we were both caught staring at one another. This time, instead of looking away, I held his gaze. Kelsey’s words replayed in my mind.

“Mya, will you get Nicks for me please?” Stephen said urgently, forcing me to break the staring contest with Colton.

I looked over to Stephen and he was making drinks and grimacing. Without answering, I moved from behind the bar and headed across the room to Nicks’ office. My hips naturally swayed when I walked, but I put a little something extra in my strut since I knew Colton would be watching.