“You don’t see it.” I grab the broken chair and set it off to the side. “They stand there and watch you,” I say, and she watches me while I pick up another chair to see if it’s broken. “Sometimes when you twirl and dance to the music …” I spot a broken chair and set it down next to the other one. “They stand there and just watch you like you are the main event.”

She stands there with her mouth hanging open. “That’s not true.”

I laugh now. “It’s so true.” Walking over to the bar and grabbing the wet rag, I toss it to her. “Wipe down the tables while you catch flies.”

She glares at me now, walking to a table that’s been flipped over. She puts it up right, then wipes it down. “I think you are just saying all these things because I teased you about your harem.”

“My harem.” I shake my head, putting all the good chairs to one side. “Harem or not …” I look over as she bends down and washes off a table. Her ass is perfect and round, and now I’m like one of those creeps checking her out. “I leave with only one girl every single time.”

She looks over her shoulder at me. “That you do.” She walks over to the jukebox and presses a couple of buttons. “Might as well sing while we work.”

She heads to another table while “Slow Dance in a Parking Lot” comes on. “Dance with me?” I ask her, or maybe I am telling her. She looks over at me. “I like this song, and you can never dance when you are working.”

She doesn’t move. She just looks at me unsure on what to do. I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her to the dance floor. “We dance,” she says to me when I slip my arm around her waist and pull her to me. “I mean, not all the time.”

“We’ve danced four times,” I say, and her eyes go big.

“Six,” she counters, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Just last week, you walked behind the bar and pulled me to this dance floor.”

I look down into her eyes. “I beat Teddy to it,” I admit. “One of his friends dared him to come over and ask you to dance, so I beat him to it.”

She throws her head back and laughs out loud. “You did not.”

“I did, too.” I smile, lifting one hand to push her hair away from her forehead. “He was just going to try to cop a feel,” I fill her in, “and there was no way in fuck I was going to let that happen.”

“Aren’t you my knight in shining armor?” she says. We stop dancing and just stand in the middle of the dance floor. “Mr. Mayor,” she jokes with me.