Page 108 of The Night Shift

Brilliant. Do all men have the same default shitty script when hitting on a woman? Very well. Time to recite mine. I take a deep breath, and begin, “Why? Do you work here?”

His eyes twinkle with amusement. “In a way.” He must see the confusion on my face, because he proceeds to add, “I own the place.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” I wasn’t expectingthat.

Finn nods. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to get you kicked out for having a little bit of fun.”

“I’m not sure I’d call this conversation ‘fun’ just yet.”

He scoffs. “That’s cute, but I was talking about the edibles your friends took a few minutes ago. Drugs are strictly prohibited on the premises of Cythera.”

My face falls.

Finn chuckles. “Relax. I’m just bored,” he says, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Not much to do tonight. I was supposed to go on a date, but sadly she bailed on me.”

“I wonder why.” My tone reeks of sarcasm.

“Something about wanting to spend time with her husband.”

The audacity is truly appalling. “So, you got stood up by your married girlfriend and decided to come harass me?”

He’s not even looking at me anymore. He flags the bartender to order himself a drink. “Sweetheart, you have a knife attached to your bloody leg. Only a fool would choose to harass someone like you.”

My mouth half-gapes. “That’s not a real knife. It’s a prop. Goes with the tiara.”

“Uh-huh. Like how Ashley Miller is your real name?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t seem like an Ashley Miller to me,” he says. “So, what’s your name? Your real one this time.”

What is happening right now? “Why do you want to know my name?”

“So that I can get it tattooed on my ass.”

There’s an aura of entitlement around him. He seems to be the kind of man who’s used to getting what he wants. A textbook narcissist with a god complex. Unfortunately for him, I only have the patience and space for one of those in my life. And unfortunately forme, that position is filled.

“Are you trying to flirt with me or piss me off?”

“Did I say I was flirting with you?” Finn says. A pause. He looks at me through the corner of his eye. “Do you want me to flirt with you?”

I immediately cringe. “No.”

Finn smiles. The bartender returns with the order he never placed. Two scotch on the rocks. He slides one over to me. “Cheers.”

“I don’t drink dark liquor.”

“Wonderful.” Finn downs both drinks in one gulp each, then wipes his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. “What do you drink then?”

I chug the remainder of my martini and slam the empty glass on the marble countertop, feeling the sting of alcohol burning in my throat. “No more for me.”

Without a word, I grab my purse and stand, making my way toward the exit. I’m not leaving, I just need some fresh air. The door opens and the cold October air hits me like a slap to the face. Crisp and biting, the kind that immediately cuts through any warmth left in my body. I pull my jacket tighter around myself, the chill sinking into my bones as I walk down the steps and into the adjacent alleyway. Taking out my phone, I scroll through my contacts, my fingers lingering on Cami’s name, about to call her —

“Phone and wallet.” The tip of a knife presses against my back and a rough, gravelly voice. “Hand them overnow.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Chapter 20