Bait & Switch by Darlene Gardner Read Free Book Online

he agreed.
    He watched her walk away before he thought to glance at his watch. To his surprise, it was already nearly time for bartending duty. But if he left now, he’d miss her acceptance speech.
    Remembering he’d told Peyton mere minutes ago she could rely on him, Mitch drew in a frustrated breath. Hadn’t he made the same vow to Cary, whose future depended upon Mitch gathering enough evidence to put Flash Gordon behind bars?
    His heart sank like bricks in quicksand. Much as he hated to, Mitch had to go.
    He walked through the doors, under the crest of the Irish harp and past the great white columns, feeling like the louse Peyton would believe he was.

CHAPTER FIVE

    If Mitch were asked to pick his favorite part of the female anatomy, he’d dodge the question by pointing out that women were much more than a collection of parts.
    When he met someone new, he was careful to look her in the eye. He never, ever tried to get a woman into bed before getting to know her. What was on the inside was much more important than the outside.
    But the truth was Mitch had a weakness for breasts, which usually didn’t come into play in his everyday existence. After all, most women covered theirs.
    That wasn’t true at Epidermis. He couldn’t turn his head without getting an eyeful of breast flesh. Big and small. Round and firm. Dark-skinned and light-skinned. They were everywhere.
    The few women seated at the bar wore tops with plunging necklines. The cocktail waitresses who placed their drink orders nearly spilled out of their tiny tops. And the dancers on stage had let it all hang out.
    Mitch should have been in breast bliss, but he wasn’t.
    He was too angry at his brother, who hadn’t bothered to tell him he bartended at a strip club.
    Come to think of it, he was also infuriated at Cary for putting him in a position where the breasts he most wanted to see belonged to Peyton, a woman he couldn’t have.
    Mitch filled a beer mug from the tap and slammed it down on the bar in front of an aging, overweight man. The beer sloshed over the rim. It didn’t matter. The man wasn’t paying attention to anything but the breasts on stage.
    “Careful you don’t provoke the customers, sugar.”
    A woman with a bosom the size of Kilamanjaro sidled up to the bar and bared her teeth in a smile. Even though her lipstick was thick and ruby red, her teeth looked more yellow than white. Her skin was slathered in makeup, her dark hair teased to towering proportions. She looked like an aging hooker, which would have been preferable to what she was. Millie Bellini. The club manager.
    “What’d I tell you about wearing shirts like that, baby?” Millie’s eyes ran over him, making him want to put on a jacket.
    He’d made a quick stop at Cary’s apartment to change out of his tux into dark pants and a collarless shirt. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”
    “It doesn’t cling. You’re s’posed to wear one of them black shirts that cling. I got a stash of ‘em in the back room. Go put one on.”
    “Why?” Cary couldn’t imagine the heavily male crowd at Epidermis cared what he wore.
    Millie rolled her mascara-coated eyes. “Why you think I keep you around if not for eye candy? With all these girls in here, I need something for me.” She reached across the bar and pinched his cheek. “Now go change, baby.”
    She leered at him. Unbelievable. The women were nude but he was the one being sexually harassed.
    “What you waiting for, sugar buns?” Millie asked. “You want me come help?”
    He wanted to refuse. Cary should be grateful he wasn’t in throttling range. Brotherly love wouldn’t save him.
    “I can do it, Millie,” he said easily. “I’ve been dressing myself for a long time now.”
    He never would have chosen the black shirt, which was missing buttons almost all the way down to his navel. As soon as he was back at his station, a woman who looked like she’d been poured into her red dress got off her bar stool and drew him