When He Was Bad... by Anne Oliver Read Free Book Online

drumming his fingers on the desk while it booted up. ‘Fancy a coffee? It must be break time.’
    â€˜Just had one, thanks. Are you seeing her again?’
    He shot her a dark look. ‘As fate would have it, turns out she works for Belle, so the answer’s yes, I’m going to be seeing her again.’
    â€˜Fate.’ She arched a smooth dark brow at his choice of words, eyes twinkling. ‘Serious stuff.’
    He shrugged it off. ‘Not at all. Just one of life’s quirky coincidences.’
    â€˜Of all the nightclubs in all of Melbourne…’ she purred, leaning closer. ‘Yep. Has to be fate.’
    â€˜For heaven’s sakes, Yaz, give it a rest.’
    As always, undeterred by his scowl, Yasmine swung one long leg while she twirled her fingers through a container of paperclips. ‘Are you bringing her to the staff do?’
    â€˜Staff do?’
    â€˜Have you forgotten? You approved the idea. Twenty-first of June—next Monday night for those who forget to look at the calendar. Formal or fancy dress or Celtic, yet to be decided. A money raiser. Charity to be determined by the boss.’ She tapped his chest. ‘That would be you.’
    He grunted. Someone had come up with the idea in February for a winter solstice celebration as a morale booster, he remembered, but he’d been working in Sydney for most of this year and it had slipped his mind.
    â€˜So are you going to bring her?’ she asked again.
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    Because…? He preferred the idea of something more intimate for their first date, not a roomful of colleagues garnering Ellie’s attention. When he and Ellie got together—and they would—he didn’t want an audience. ‘We’re not involved.’
    â€˜Yeah, I noticed,’ Yasmine said dryly. ‘Bring her anyway. Make Belle happy.’ It would be a way to keep his word to Belle that he was looking out for Ellie. ‘We’ll see,’ he muttered, more to shut Yasmine up than any promise on his part. But for now… He clicked open a folder on his computer. ‘Moving on to moreimportant matters,’ he said, ignoring Yasmine’s grin. ‘Bring me up to speed on the Dalton project.’
    Â 
    â€˜Six beers, two tequilas, one rum and Coke,’ Ellie recited to herself, sliding the requested drinks order onto her tray. She started towards the table of rowdy guys, wishing her black skirt was a few centimetres longer.
    The atmosphere inside the club oozed sweat, cheap aftershave and testosterone. A lone pole-dancer was doing her thing to bad music over a poor sound system. According to Ellie’s fellow waitress, Tuesday night wasn’t usually busy, but an entire football team had turned up after training and were jostling for viewing space.
    Her throat felt scratchy with the constant strain of having to raise her voice over the noise. They were one staff member short. Sasha, who’d arranged the shift for Ellie and was supposed to be here to help her through the first night, hadn’t turned up. Ellie suppressed her annoyance. Perhaps Sasha was sick, but she should have phoned.
    Well, she was doing just fine tonight without her help, thank you very much. Only a few more hours with Sleazy in the cheap business suit mentally undressing her from his corner table and she was out of here.
    She offloaded the beers, carried the rum and Coke to Sleazy’s table.
    â€˜How about a nightcap when you finish up here?’ he asked her breasts as she set the glass down.
    â€˜No, thanks.’ Booze had made him more obnoxious than he’d been an hour earlier.
    â€˜Come on, babe. We’d make a good team, you and me.’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’ She turned to leave but he grasped her wrist. She wrenched her arm away, toppling his drink. Liquid splashed the table, sloshing over the edge and onto his shiny polyester trousers.
    â€˜Everything