Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn
and thick, her eyes outlined in black while her lips were outlined in red. Tory said she was an “aesthetician” which seemed to mean she did manicures and pedicures all day with an occasional massage thrown in.
    When he’d heard that, Blane had shot Todd a look as they let the girls precede them into the restaurant.
    “You should be thanking me,” Todd hissed, clapping him on the shoulder. “She was a gymnast in high school.”
    “And when was that?” Blane hissed back. “Six months ago?”
    But Todd ignored him, hurrying after Jenny and sliding into the chair beside her.
    Conversation with Tory was mind-numbing, Blane feigning interest in something she was saying about a reality TV show she was obsessed over. He took another sip of his drink, eyeing Todd and Jenny. Todd was feeding her a bite of his pasta, then leaned forward to kiss her.
    Blane signaled the waitress for another drink, cataloguing how much Todd was going to owe him for this. Tory had now slipped off her shoe and was trying to see how far up Blane’s pants leg she could creep her perfectly polished toes.
    Blane breathed a sigh of relief when the interminable dinner finally came to an end, only to hear Jenny say, “Hey, I know this great bar we can go to!”
    Tory quickly agreed and Todd, well, Blane figured Todd was good with whatever gave him better odds of ending the evening in Jenny’s bed. Blane thought that was already a done deal, judging by the way the two of them made out in the back of Blane’s car while he drove.
    The bar was called The Drop and Blane had never been there before, though he’d driven by a few times. A younger crowd filled the place and it was busy at this hour on a Saturday night. Todd spotted a group leaving and snagged their spot in a booth.
    The waitress came by and Blane ordered a round of drinks. It took patience he didn’t have to smile down at the woman next to him, who seemed determined to rub every inch of her barely clad breasts against him.
    Blane glanced up and time seemed to stutter to a halt.
    It was her. Kathleen. Only she wasn’t a customer, she was the bartender.
    Her gaze was locked on his, their blue depths clear even from this distance, sucking him in as he immediately forgot the brunette squeezed against him.
    Then the moment was over, Kathleen turning away as though she hadn’t even recognized him, or if she had, then she certainly hadn’t cared enough to acknowledge him.
    Their drinks were delivered by the waitress and Blane’s mind spun as though new life had been breathed into him, the cobwebs of being up since before five am wiped away. Had she gotten her car without any problems? Was she glad to see him? Had she even noticed him?
    The answer to the last question seemed to be no as he didn’t see her looking his way again. However, she seemed pretty busy. Blane faked a laugh at something Jenny had said, he had no clue what, but which had the rest of them in gales of laughter.
    He kept casting surreptitious glances Kathleen’s direction as she worked, her movements practiced and efficient. She laughed and joked with the customers and the other bartender, some guy who looked about her age.
    Blane frowned at that. Kathleen seemed really comfortable with him. Maybe more than a work friend? But she’d said she didn’t have a boyfriend.
    Which didn’t mean she wasn’t sleeping with someone.
    That thought had him downing his drink. “I’m going to get us another round,” he said. Tory moved and he slid out of the booth. Ingrained manners made him ask, “Anyone want anything?”
    “I’m getting a little tipsy,” Tory said with a flirtatious grin, “but I’d love an appletini.”
    Blane wanted to roll his eyes at the not-so-subtle hint, but just nodded and smiled at her before heading for the bar. He had to work to keep his steps even and slow. It would not be cool for Kathleen to see how much he wanted to talk to her.
    He slid onto an empty bar stool and waited, taking the time to

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