“Rude?” He looked completely taken aback. “What the fuck?”

I arched a recently plucked eyebrow at him and spun on my sneakers back to the restaurant. I can’t really explain my actions except I don’t do weird encounters well, and this was way outside of my comfort zone. I definitely had a flight reaction setting in.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Okay, wait!” He strode forward, and reaching the door I was half way through in three long strides, wedged his foot in as it closed. Hard.

Oops.

“Ow!” he yelped. “Mother...” He stopped his expletive in the nick of time and wrapped his hand around the doorframe. “Wait.” For a second, he looked really puzzled. “Wait, okay? I’m sorry about my language, but I paid for my burger.” He paused, taking a deep breath and pitching his tone just right to appease me, this banshee of a girl. “May I please have it?”

I simply stared at him. Call it delayed shock setting in. Finally, I managed to snap out of it and stepped aside allowing him entry.

He looked at me warily and then walked past.

I closed the door behind him and locked it. It was a weird move, I admit.

“You taking me hostage?” he asked, his tone light.

“Can’t be too careful with the kind of people who loiter around in the dark,” I muttered. I honestly don’t think he could tell if I was teasing. Hell, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I was obviously, but I couldn’t be too sure how things were coming out of my mouth. He looked like he was thinking the quicker he grabbed his food and got out of here, the better. Great. I get to meet Jack Eversea, the Jack Eversea, and I act like a complete imbecile. It was so good Jazz wasn’t here, she would have clobbered me by now. For that matter, she would have clobbered him and dragged him back to her lair.

“So why did you say I was rude?” he asked. He shook his head slightly. In all likelihood at his idiocy in prolonging this weird encounter.

I stalked around the bar with a sigh, grabbing utensils and napkins as I did. Well, it couldn’t get any worse, so I thought I might as well speak my mind. Or at least justify my odd behavior.

“Well, how about a list? You were so busy texting you didn’t bother looking at me while I took your order. You mumbled it, didn’t say please, and when I delivered your drink, you didn’t say thank you. Did you not learn any basic courtesy growing up?” I delivered a plate to the bar counter and snapped open the Styrofoam box, sliding the contents out neatly, spilling nary a French fry on the way. Impressive. Even though I knew he wanted this order to go. What was I doing?

I continued, “Or are you so used to getting your way, because you look like God’s gift to humanity? Maybe the fame has gone to your head a little bit?” My tone suggested a little bit was not what I meant.

“So I guess that answers my question about whether you know who I am?” He leaned forward against the bar and gave me a familiar furrowed-brow bad boy look. The same look that had been captured in Vanity Fair no less. Bad idea.

I huffed and rolled my eyes.

Jack Eversea finally looked stumped. Like he had no idea what to say and how to get his burger out of this place.

My nerves were subsiding. Not fully, considering I literally had some tabloid poll’s sexiest man alive standing across the bar from me. But enough that I thought I might finally be able to converse normally.

“Sit and eat, you can keep me company while I shut this place down. It gives me the creeps after Hector locks up the kitchen and goes home.” The fact that I didn’t know whether Hector had left yet didn’t seem to phase me.

I stuck out my hand and Jack took it warily. His hand was warm and strong, and if touching him didn’t give me weak knees and a buzzing head, I was a monkey’s uncle. “I’m Keri Ann Butler.”

“Ja—”

“Jack Eversea, I know. Have a seat. Another drink?”

He nodded, still not releasing my hand. “Please.”

I smiled at him then. The most natural smile I could muster despite the fact that holding his hand had launched a butterfly migration through my insides. I untangled my fingers from his after a few awkward beats, and Jack Eversea sat dutifully on the bar stool in front of his food.

He snapped open the ketchup bottle. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Another one?” I winked to let him know I was teasing.

“Can you please not mention to anyone ... I mean, anyone, including your blonde friend from earlier ... that you saw me?”

I stayed quiet a few moments weighing the pros and cons. If anyone found out he was here, he’d never get his space to figure his shit out. And from what little I had gleaned from that tabloid article, he needed to. But this was Jack Eversea and Jazz was a huge fan.

“Please?” he asked again, quietly. Pleadingly.

“Of course.” I inclined my head. “Your secret’s safe. Not sure anyone would believe me, anyway.” I laughed lightly.

He seemed to relax infinitesimally.

I delivered him a fresh Bushmills, and then set about wiping down the bar and closing out the computer, trying to look as relaxed as possible and not trip over my own feet.

Finally shutting the computer off, I calmly took a tray of plates through the swing door into the kitchen. As soon as it shut behind me, I put the tray down and sank against the refrigeration room door.

A flood of pent up reactions ballooned inside me. Holy shit! Jack Eversea was on the other side of that door. The Jack Eversea. Oh my God, Jazz was gonna tilt. Except, I couldn’t tell Jazz. How was I supposed to keep something like this bottled up? Okay, okay, breathe. I was just a little star-struck, I would be fine in a minute. I mean, he was beautiful and everything, but he was also just a tad full of himself, and—I reminded myself—he was rude earlier. A spoiled celebrity. Not crushing material, at all. Well, maybe just a tiny crush. But only because I had seen him play Max from my favorite Warriors of Erath book series that made it onto the big screen.

I thought back to the movie and his bare, muscled torso with the medallion tattoo on his bicep. That was his body.

Jazz, literally his biggest fan, had watched every movie he had been in since she was fifteen, and had proudly declared he performed every one of his scenes with no stunt man or body double. It was natural a bit of her enthusiasm would rub off on me, right?

My face flamed as I remembered I’d just lectured Jack Eversea on his manners. Nice. He must think me a complete pain in the ass.

Hector was still there loading the last dishes. He turned and came for my tray, stopping as he saw me heaving for breath and clutching my middle.

“What’s the matter, Chiquita?” he asked urgently.

I shook my head roughly and brought a finger to my lips. Oh man, I hoped Jack Eversea hadn’t heard that. My eyes flicked to the pass-through and Hector did a quick head duck to look through before I could stop him.

He turned back to me, eyes wide. “Is that...?”

Shit. I couldn’t keep a secret for ten minutes.

I nodded.

“Dios mio!” Hector whispered, crossing himself.

“Hector!” I hissed. “You can’t say a word, okay? Not. One. Word.” I bored my eyes into his crinkled gaze, willing him to get how serious I was.

“Okay, okay.” Hector put his hands up in surrender.