Double Down Read Free Page A

choices. Cass glanced down at her calves, half thinking she’d find a splatter or stain. Wouldn’t have been surprising at all. After six hours on the floor, she felt like a filthy dishrag.
    She only found her stockings, the seamed ones she wore when she wanted to feel like a woman, not an overworked waitress and gallery lackey.
    Ryan met her eyes. His frank sexual interest was one thing. The naughty grin sent a shiver up her spine.
    She barged into the kitchen. The doors clanged against the inside wall. She laughed to herself when the staff looked up from their preparation tables and sizzling grills. Pulsing excitement made her giddy, even reckless.
    After shutting the locker-room door, she stripped out of her disgusting uniform. The only thing she had to change into was the spare set she kept for emergencies—yet another gray pencil skirt and white shirt. Her plans for the evening had involved staggering home exhausted, with a shower and pajamas optional as she collapsed. Now she had the energy of a nuclear reactor.
    Gillian Flores, an MFA candidate who studied sculpture, shut her locker. “You outta here?”
    “Yup. You just getting here?” Cass ran hot water in the sink.
    “Tommy’s gonna give me shit for being late again.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about him tonight.”
    Gilly doubled a rubber band around her thick black ponytail. “Oh?”
    “Yeah, I got him covered.”
    “Now I’m intrigued. You plan on giving him the kicking he deserves?”
    After running a washcloth over her skin, Cass toweled off. “Just don’t be out on the floor in about four minutes. I’ve found someone intriguing.”
    She wiggled into her spare uniform. The skirt wasn’t the flashiest in the world, but she appreciated how it fit. Like the stockings, it made her feel curvy and feminine. She undid her hair and combed it with water, then braided two pigtails that trailed over her shoulders. Splash of perfume. Powder and clear lip gloss. She didn’t have time for anything else.
    Cass had just slipped back into her heels—her tired feet protesting like whoa damn—when she heard the commotion in the kitchen. Perhaps the sound of a certain customer venturing where he didn’t belong? A glance at the wall clock made her smile.
    Tall. Built. And punctual.
    She’d almost been second-guessing herself. He was right in saying ten minutes was a long time—not for getting ready, but for letting the doubts creep in.
    “So show me the money, missy.” Gilly, wearing the world’s most fantastic shit-eating grin, pulled opened the locker-room door with a flourish.
    Ryan was right there, standing in the doorway. His hand was poised to knock. Backlit by the much brighter lights of the kitchen, he filled the space. Owned it. “There you are, Cassandra.”
    Shivers that were becoming more familiar by the second climbed up Cass’s back. He said her name like the low harmony of a song, making love to each syllable.
    She gulped back the last of her nerves and met him in the doorway. He offered his arm like the Southern gentleman she’d imagined. His forearm was solid beneath her fingertips.
    Fluorescent lighting generally did no one any favors. Not so with Ryan. Now she could see the exact sun-tea shade of his short, neat hair. His skin was smooth and lightly tanned, with only the slightest hint of scruff. His eyes weren’t as dark as when the dining room’s tasteful low-watt atmosphere had obscured their color. In truth they were a perfect blend of brown and green, a true hazel, full of mischief and blatant, panty-dropping desire.
    Cass snuggled deeper, with her palm curled flat around that miraculous biceps.
    “You ready?” he asked.
    She looked around the kitchen. Tommy was nowhere to be found. A flicker of disappointment seemed ridiculous considering the man she stood next to.
    It seemed the fates and the gods and the whole damn universe were on her side that night. Tommy walked through the swinging doors. He stopped dead. Pinched eyes