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across the room. “Now, let’s talk about Thrice.”
    Over the next three hours they covered policies and procedures in each area of the business. He was pleased to see Harley taking notes on her phone, though he knew Ryan had given her the P&P manual earlier. His current managers were in their midthirties like him, not nearly as flexible or tech-minded as Harley. They were perfect businesspeople, but Harley was teaching him that the way they, himself included, did things wasn’t necessarily the only way. When he introduced her to staff, she actually took pictures on her phone and added each to her contacts with a name, something he would never have considered, but with two supervisors, ten to twenty bar staffers, four bouncers, and Cruz and his tech crew for every shift, there were a lot of names and faces to keep straight. He started to wonder if Harley might just manage to teach him a thing or two while he was teaching her about his nightclub.
    Things got noisy when the doors opened at five. For a Monday they were surprisingly busy. Harley worked behind the bar with the staff, snarkily reminding him of her need for hands-on training to adequately understand the club’s needs. The reference to his comments Saturday night brought a flush to his face. Yes, he’d been rude. He got that, regretted it, even. Still, she didn’t have to bring it up.
    He had a feeling she would for a good long while.
    He returned from his rounds at nine to send her home. Twelve hours would test the most enthusiastic employee, and they still had packing to do for a midmorning flight tomorrow. But as he walked toward the bar, he noticed his footsteps quickening and consciously forced his pace to slow. No use sharing his embarrassing eagerness with anyone lucky enough to catch sight of him. It was bad enough he knew about it, damn it.
    When Harley came into view, the man leaning against the bar across from her, talking intently, broke down Damien’s determination to appear casual.
    “Ian.”
    Damien bit the word off in a way he hadn’t intended when he opened his mouth. He and Ian Walker had become partners in crime since Damien’s best friend, Alex Brannigan, abandoned the dating scene for marriage and monogamy. Knowing the big blond’s talent for charming women out of their panties by the dozens, however, suddenly seemed less handy and more teeth-grindingly annoying as Damien took the last few steps to stand beside his friend.
    “Damien! Why didn’t you tell me you’d done some interior decorating over the weekend? I don’t think Thrice has ever looked better.” Ian threw a wink Harley’s way, earning him a smile. Damien felt one of his molars creak in protest as he ground his teeth harder together.
    “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Damien told Ian. “You were just here Saturday.”
    If Ian heard the rebuke behind the words, he ignored it. “There are far too many beautiful women here to stay away for long. Especially this one.” He leaned closer to Harley and reached out to take one of her hands. “I was just asking her where she’d been hiding herself all my life.”
    I will not punch him. I am not a slave to my testosterone . But Damien wanted to. Instead he turned to Harley. “Get me a whiskey please. Neat.”
    Harley’s eyes rounded at his tone, but she nodded. When she tried to slip away, however, Ian tightened his grip on her hand. “Don’t go so soon, darlin’. We just met.”
    Harley giggled. Giggled. At Ian. The sound was soft, alluring, with a hint of smile. It made his blood shoot to instant boil. “Harley,” he snapped.
    Ian frowned his way, but it was the temper rising in Harley’s eyes that started a slow burn low in his gut. It made him want to provoke her more, just so he could see that look flaring his way over and over again.
    When she spoke, her words rumbled, low and firm and majorly pissed off. “I may work for you, Damien, but I’m no one’s dog. We need to get that straight from the