The Ortega Project Page 2

  After Dark, the club where she worked came up on her right. She slowed and turned into the club’s parking lot. The popular club had opened several hours ago. Finding a parking space would be a problem. After circling the lot twice, she spotted an empty space. Before anyone else noticed, she hit the gas and raced to claim it.

  A tall, dark-haired man in a black, leather jacket and black pants stepped out from between two parked cars and in front of her. Her heart screeched to a halt. She stomped on the brakes and lurched forward, bumping her chin on the steering wheel.

  “Oh, my God!” Where did he come from?

  The man recoiled. He slammed his palms on the hood of her car and snarled at her through the windshield. “Watch where you’re going before you kill someone!”

  Her stomach roiled and threatened to expel its contents. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and waited for her body to stop trembling. Obsessing over Jake’s betrayal had nearly caused her to run down a pedestrian. Thank God, she hadn’t. After drawing in a deep calming breath, she lifted her head and eased her eyes open, expecting to see the man in front of her car. He was gone.

  Where’d he go? She had to find out if he was okay. And apologize. Such reckless behavior wasn’t her. Shifting into park, she undid her seat belt, threw open the car door, and stepped onto the pavement.

  Grace hung onto the door and peered in every direction, paying close attention to shadows. No trace of the man anywhere. Had she imagined him? Was she dreaming? She pinched her arm and the sting confirmed the experience was no nightmare. What had happened was very real. To check for damages to her car, she wound her way to the front. Seeing none, she ran her hand over the hood and discovered a small dent, barely visible. Considering the impact of his blow, how was that possible?

  Scanning the lot again and seeing nothing, she slid back behind the wheel. Using more caution this time, she inched into the empty parking space. She killed the engine, turned off the headlights, and gave the parking lot another once-over—both hoping and fearing she’d catch a glimpse of the elusive pedestrian. Where had he gone? After locking her car, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder. Her legs shook. She leaned against the car and waited until her knees stopped knocking. “Calm down, Grace,” she murmured. She squeezed her eyes shut and practiced deep breathing exercises.

  When her heartbeat returned to normal, she was ready to start her shift. Tonight, she was in no mood to cozy up to customers for tips. Or answer questions about her vacation. She opened her eyes, stood straighter, pushed her chin forward, and marched toward the club.

  Glancing at the full moon, a shudder crawled along her spine.

  “It figures,” she murmured, considering how things were going tonight.

  As she tugged the heavy wooden door open, the familiar aroma of stale beer assaulted her senses. She lingered at the door while her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

  “Welcome back, Grace,” the beefy bouncer shouted above the noisy crowd.

  “Hi, Bronco.”

  Wearing a tight T-shirt with After Dark printed on the front, Bronco wrapped his muscular arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s great to have you back.”

  “It’s great to be back,” she answered, truly meaning it. Anything was better than being in the same town as Jake. “I’m so late. I hope I can sneak in without Jerry noticing.”

  He gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about it. The boss won’t even notice. He’ll just be glad to see you. He booked a new band that’s been filling the house every night,” he said putting her at ease.

  “A new band?”

  “They’re called Dark Syde. Hope you put on your running shoes. You’re gonna be busy.”

  “I hope so.”

  Plunging forward, Grace navigated around customers standing or sitting around small wooden tables. She was doing fine until she glanced at the bar, and her forehead smacked into the center of a masculine chest so hard, she bounced back.

  “Oh!”

  Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders, holding her upright. “Don’t you ever pay attention to where you’re going?” a familiar, deep voice snapped.

  “W-what?” She stared into the dark eyes of the man she’d nearly run down less than five minutes ago in the parking lot. Of all the people to bump into. Him. Stepping away from his firm grip, she mouthed, “Sorry.” She started to ask if he’d been injured during the mishap, but her mind went blank. Dumbstruck, heat rose in her cheeks.

  His gaze never left hers, making her uncomfortable.

  “Grace!” a friendly voice shouted. “Welcome back.” Her co-worker and best friend, Deanna, ran to give her a quick, bone-crushing hug. Deanna was half a foot shorter and wore her platinum-colored hair short and spiked.

  “Your name’s Grace?” The stranger offered a sarcastic chuckle. “How appropriate.” He shook his head and swaggered away.

  Grace’s jaw went slack. She wanted to chase after him to defend herself, but he already considered her a clumsy idiot, so why bother? She switched her focus to her friend’s cheery face.

  “How was your vacation?” Deanna asked. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  Did Grace really want to unload her rage and humiliation on her friend at work?

  From behind the bar, a male voice shouted Deanna’s name.

  Deanna turned and waved to a co-worker behind the bar. “We’ll talk later.” She gave Grace a quick hug and scooted off.

  Hair on the back of Grace’s neck stood on end. Sensing someone watching her, she peeked over her shoulder. Seated in the large, corner booth near the front door were four attractive males, dressed in black. Checking her out. After four years of tending bar, she’d grown used to men ogling her. But when she spotted the man she kept bumping into seated on the end, her heart galloped around in her ribcage like a racehorse.

  The tall, dark stranger hoisted his beer mug and shot her a slow, seductive smile. Mocking her?

  Her breath caught and she looked away, praying the floor would swallow her up. When the polished wood beneath her feet remained intact, she clutched her purse to her chest and kept moving. Many of the regular customers shouted greetings as she passed by.

  “Good to be back,” she answered, but didn’t stop until she pushed open the double doors leading to the back room and out of sight.

  She couldn’t get away from the crowd fast enough. Her head hurt and every muscle in her body ached as if she’d been beaten up. And she had been. Emotionally. She flopped down on the dented, metal chair next to her locker and let her overstuffed handbag drop to the floor.

  What was she thinking? How could she even concentrate on work when her big blow-up with Jake dominated her thoughts? He’d blind-sided her. Did he have second thoughts about marrying her, like he said? Did he get cold feet? Or did he find someone else? As hard as she tried to erase his face and searing words from her brain, they kept cropping up and taking over. Taking control. Maybe she should have called in sick tonight.

  She sucked in a deep breath and stared into the full-length mirror on the wall next to the swinging doors. The grim, pathetic-looking woman staring back at her would only get pity tips tonight. Meager, at best. No, she decided, Mr. Jake Nelson would not get the better of her. Screw him. Never. Ever again. No more relationships for her. Relationships were too painful.

  Done dwelling on the breakup, she went right to work. She opened her locker, hung her jacket on a plastic hanger, and grabbed a hairbrush. The stiff bristles running through her long hair soothed her scalp and her mood. She pawed through her purse and found her makeup bag.

  Boisterous cheers erupted from the club, followed by thundering footfalls heading in the direction of the stage. The band must be here. Now she was really running late.

  Her hands shook. After a long, calming exhale, she unzipped her makeup bag and pulled out the necessary items for her look. Steadying her trembling hand, she framed her eyes with heavy black liner and mascara. Another thick layer of crimson lip gloss
, followed by a quick check of her uniform, too-tight black jeans and a low-cut, faux leather vest, and she was good to go. She tossed everything back inside her locker. After plastering a fake grin on her face, she pushed open the swinging doors, and headed toward the bar to start work.

  Crap. Jerry, the club’s owner, stood outside the door. Waiting for her? Jerry was more like a father than a boss to his employees, most of whom were college students. She braced her hands on the side of the bar and prepared to hear a well-intentioned reminder about being late. Instead, she decided to beat him to the punch. “I’m sorry I’m—”

  He shook his head and held up his hand, signaling her to stop. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to have you back. This place has been a zoo since this new band’s been playing here. They’re packing in the crowds. I’ve had to hire extra security and even a couple of bar-backs to stock ice and do side work.” He gestured at the full club. “Take a look around, Grace. You’re going to get good tips tonight. We’ll talk later. I want to hear about your vacation.” He elbowed his way into the crowd and disappeared.

  Jerry was right. Tips would be good tonight. And the generous tips she made tending bar at the popular nightspot were hard to beat.

  Tugging the bottom of her vest, she rolled her neck and shoulders to get the kinks out before starting to fill drink orders. She stepped behind the bar where Mark, the sole male bartender, filled a frosty mug with the brew on tap. He winked at her, and set the mug in front of a pretty female customer.

  He sidled up to Grace. Their shoulders touched and he lowered his eyelids to half-mast. “Welcome back, gorgeous.” He growled and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “You’re an idiot, you know. Wait until I tell Jennifer.” During four years of college, she and Mark attended several of the same classes and became good friends. He’d introduced her to Jerry, who hired her on the spot. She, in return, hooked him up with his current girlfriend, Jennifer.

  Onstage the shaggy-haired musicians, dressed in scruffy jeans and T-shirts, schmoozed with the folks pressed up against the stage. Both guitarists tuned their instruments and the drummer bantered with a male customer.

  Jerry enthusiastically jumped onstage and helped set up microphones. Grace had never seen him happier. And why not? The band seemed to be a money-maker. After sound checks, loud classic-rock music filled the club. Customers gathered around the stage, moving to the beat of ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man.” Others danced.

  Deanna touched Grace’s arm and jerked her head toward the double doors—a cue she wanted to talk. The half-dozen customers sitting at the bar had full glasses in front of them, so it wouldn’t be a problem to leave for a few minutes.

  Grace tapped Mark on the shoulder, pointed at herself and then Deanna, who waited by the doors. He nodded, and Grace followed her friend into the back room.

  “I couldn’t wait until a break to hear about Jake’s birthday.” Deanna grinned. “Did you surprise him?”

  “Not only did I surprise him, he gave me a bigger surprise.” Her voice quaked.

  Deanna’s smile disappeared. “What happened?”

  “It’s over. We are now officially unengaged.”

  “No way!” Deanna’s eyes widened. She brought her hand to her chest in shock. “But you guys were perfect together. Why?”

  “He told me he didn’t want to get married,” she explained. “So much for long-distance relationships, huh?”

  “Is he hooking up with someone else?”

  Grace gave a one-shoulder shrug and tried answering, but the lump in her throat choked back her words. She prayed tears wouldn’t spill, but a couple escaped anyway. Pulling a tissue from her pocket, she dabbed at her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Grace. You guys were together a long time.”

  “Over five years.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “I’m all talked out. Cried out. And you know what? For the longest time, I sensed something was wrong.” Her voice caught. “Call it gut instinct or women’s intuition…but I just knew.”

  “Be glad he had this epiphany before the wedding.”

  “I am, but it still hurts.”

  “Of course it does.” She drew Grace into a tight hug. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone else.”

  Grace backed away from the embrace. “The last thing I need is another relationship. Right now, I want to concentrate on getting my Master’s Degree and can’t be bothered with men. Maybe I’ll get a couple of cats to keep me warm at night.”

  “Yeah, right. You do that, Grace.”

  She wiped her eyes. “I must look a mess.”

  “Are you kidding? You always look great.”

  Leave it to Deanna to say the right words to cheer her up. But just in case, Grace poked her head around the corner to check her blotchy face in the full-length mirror. She shrugged. Not as bad as she thought.

  “Come on, Grace. We’d better get back inside.”

  “Promise you won’t say anything to the customers about Jake and me breaking up. Please. I’ll tell Mark and Jerry. I’d rather they heard it from me. But I don’t want anyone else to know right now. Promise me, Deanna.”

  “Okay,” Deanna said, without sounding too convincing. She pushed the doors open and led the way back to their stations behind the bar as strains of “Sweet Home, Alabama” filled the club.

  Mark glanced at them and acknowledged their return.

  “Thank you,” Grace mouthed.

  Frowning, Mark hustled to her side and jerked his head toward the room she’d just left.

  She followed him through the double doors. Having known him for so long, she should have realized keeping such a monumental secret from him would be impossible.

  “Tell me what’s going on. And don’t say ‘nothing.’”

  Tears welled and she held up her left hand, showing him her bare ring finger.

  Mark’s jaw went slack. “You’re shittin’ me. What happened?”

  “Jake called off the wedding. But everybody knows that’s code for he’s either found someone else or is looking.”

  He drew her into his arms. “Sorry to hear that, Grace.”

  “Would you keep it quiet? There are a couple regular customers who don’t need to know.”

  “Sure.”

  Breaking their embrace, Grace blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “We’d better get back to our stations.”

  “What about me?” Jerry asked, walking in the room.

  Grimacing, Mark left them alone and returned to the club.

  Since she’d already planned to give Jerry the news, she proceeded to tell him about her broken engagement.

  “Sorry to hear it.” He gave her shoulder a fatherly pat. “You sure you want to stick around? If you’re not feeling up to it, you can take the night off.”

  She shook her head. “No. Working will take my mind off…everything.”

  “If that’s what you want. But if—”

  She wiped her eyes on the tissue. “I’ll be fine. I want to stay.”

  Jerry squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’ll be in the office if you change your mind,” he said and walked away.

  “Thanks, Jerry.” She took a deep breath, and pushed through the double doors leading to the club.

  Back at her workstation, she filled a tall glass with ice, poured herself a diet cola, and swallowed a long, refreshing drink. Unease swept over her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. She scanned the club for anyone peering in her direction. When she spotted the guilty party, her heartbeat sped up to hummingbird speed. It was none other than the guy she’d nearly run into in the parking lot.

  They locked gazes and then he turned away.

  Studying him now, details she’d been too embarrassed and too rushed to notice before stood out—large, dark eyes, chiseled features, and broad shoulders.

  “Hey Deanna, come over here a minute. I’m curious about something.”

  “Shoot.” Deanna strolled over, fanning a stack
of dollar bills. “What do you want to know?”

  “Those guys over there. The ones in the booth near the door.” She jerked her chin in their direction. “Who are they?”

  Still holding her tips, Deanna nodded at the men. “The one on the end, that’s Roman. He’s actually kind of nice. Only a little, shall we say, confident? The hottie next to him is Alex. The blonde chick with him is familiar, but I can’t place her. Then there’s Gabriel. Stay away from him. He’s a big-time player. I haven’t seen the redhead before. Sitting on the other end, the guy with the big guns, that’s Seth. And, by the way, they’re excellent tippers.”

  Grace zeroed in on Roman who whistled and applauded, along with the crowd, while watching the lead guitarist perform a particularly intricate riff.

  She didn’t need a crystal ball to warn her about Roman. The man was slightly intriguing, somewhat seductive, and definitely dangerous. And she found it impossible to tear her focus away from him.

  He met her gaze and winked. Damn. Her heart hammered and she looked away. “Are they from around here?”

  Deanna shrugged. “I’m not sure. Mark said he heard they’re from one of the research labs in the area. He couldn’t remember which one, but said it had something to do with hematology. Anyway, he thinks maybe they’re techs or something, but don’t quote me.” She stuffed her tips into the front pocket of her jeans.

  “Sounds pretty ghoulish if you ask me.”

  “Bloody right,” Deanna answered in a faux British accent.

  They giggled like sixth-grade school girls.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh.” Deanna patted Grace’s back. “You know something, Grace? You’re going to be okay.”

  “I know,” she answered, trying to convince herself. She cleared the empty glasses from the bar and brought them to the sink where she washed them and set them on a rack.

  * * *

  Roman

  * * *

  Flurried activity. The band had finished their set and patrons rushed from the dance floor to the bar for refills. Roman couldn’t pull his stare away from the tall blonde mixing and serving drinks. Engaged in conversation with a male customer, she tilted her chin upward, turning her head slightly to the right, showcasing a pale, swanlike neck. He imagined her lifeblood pumping there and licked his lips.