“What is this place?” he asked when he noticed a pile of wooden clothes hangers cluttering the linoleum floor.
“It used to be a coatroom.”
“How do you know that?”
“I used to work here, back when this bar was a French restaurant,” she explained. “This was the coatroom.”
“Those still exist?”
“Sure. But not here obviously, since this is no longer a coatroom.”
“Stop saying coatroom.”
“Stop asking questions that require the word coatroom in their answers.”
Cash stared at her. Then he burst out laughing. Okay, he liked this chick.
“So who are you hiding from?” she asked, crossing her ankles together in a nonchalant pose.
He stifled a groan. “A potential stalker.”
“Oh, I know all about those.”
He didn’t doubt it. With those looks, she probably fended off the advances of hundreds of dudes on a daily basis.
“So you’re also dodging someone who wants to get in your pants?” he prompted.
“Other than you, you mean?”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.” She paused, as if debating whether to confide in him. “I needed to get away from my friends for a few minutes. My best friend Tessa just landed a huge promotion at the advertising agency where she works, so a group of us went out to celebrate.”
Cash raised a brow. “And you’re hiding out. Wow. You’re a really shitty friend.”
“Me? How about Tessa? She’s the one holding this let’s-gush-about-my-new-job get-together on the same day her best friend was fired.”
“You got fired?”
“Yep, but that’s the least of my problems. I also have a crazy ex to contend with.” She exhaled loudly. “Let’s just say I’ve been having a really bad month, okay?”
Cash could commiserate—his six-month sexual dry spell wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows either. “Did you like your job?” he asked, deciding not to touch the crazy ex comment.
“No. I hated it, actually. I worked as a salesgirl at a jewelry store and my boss was a total creep. He kept offering to take me to Victoria’s Secret to help me pick out lingerie. You know, in case I need a second opinion.” She blew out another frustrated breath. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I got fired. Again.”
Cash couldn’t help but laugh. “It happens to you a lot?”
“Sure does.” She slanted her head. “What line of work are you in?”
He hesitated for a beat, then said, “Security.”
Fine, he was lying again, but he’d already escaped one navy groupie tonight and he wasn’t looking for a repeat performance. Then again, this woman was so beautiful he might be willing to make an exception.
“Huh. I figured you’d say military. You give off a military vibe. I mean, look at that big, buff body of yours—it ought to be illegal.”
He didn’t miss the slight note of derision when she said the word military. “Got something against military men?” he asked lightly.
“Nope. I respect the hell out of them,” she answered. “I just don’t want to date them.”
He frowned, a part of him wanting to admit he’d lied about his job, just to see how she’d react. But she kept talking before he could get a word in. “I bet you’re good at security. Me, on the other hand? I suck at everything.”
Cash smiled. “I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. That’s why I always get fired. School was never my thing, so I didn’t go to college. I have no interest in medicine like my mom, no distinguishable talents, no great passions. I like messing around with my camera and taking pictures, but that’s just a hobby.” Vulnerability flashed in her big blue eyes. “Do you think there’s a certain age when you should have everything figured out? Because I just turned twenty-six, and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.”
He shrugged. “I think everyone figures stuff out at their own pace. Eventually you’ll find yourself on the right path.”
“I guess.” Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe I should get into p**n . According to some creepy producer who approached me on the street, I have the ‘look’ for it.”
“You really got asked to do p**n ?” Well. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could totally picture this blue-eyed beauty in his own personal naked film.
“Yes, I really did,” she said in a glum voice.
“Porn’s an admirable profession,” he said solemnly.
She pursed her lips in thought. “But my p**n -star name sucks. You know how you’re supposed to take the name of your first pet and pair it with the street you grew up on? Well, our dog’s name was Boris and I grew up on Denton Street. Boris Denton. That sounds like a dictator.”
“I’m not even going to ask why you’d name your dog Boris.”
“That’s my brother’s doing.” She fired him a curious look. “What would your p**n name be?”
“I don’t know. I never had any pets growing up.” He shrugged again. “Besides, I’ve been told my real name sounds like a p**n name anyway, so I guess I’ve already got one.” He supplied his name before she could ask. “Cash McCoy.”
She promptly shook her head. “That’s not a p**n name. That’s cowboy all the way.”