The clink of glasses drew her attention to the man presently cleaning the room and a small smile curved her lips as she watched him work. The high green Mohawk didn’t really fit with the black dress pants and dress shirt he was wearing. Jeans or leather would have suited him more, Ildaria thought as she watched him carry a half-full tray of glasses to the next table, one of many small side tables that accompanied the groupings of sofas and chairs in the room. G.G. bent, set the tray on the table and began gathering the used glasses and adding them to his growing collection.
“I don’t know why you don’t have Sofia and the others help with cleanup,” she said to announce her presence. “It would bedone in no time with the three or four of you working.”
G.G. stilled and then glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment, his gaze moving over her slowly before he turned backto continue gathering glasses. “They work long hours as it is. The shortest night in the summer is nine hours, but it canbe as long as fifteen hours in the winter that they have to work. And they do it without complaint,” he pointed out. “Lettingthem go at closing is the least I can do.”
“You work longer,” she pointed out. “You start early to prep, and clean up after. Surely—”
“The Night Club is my business. I get the profits. As such, I should work longer hours. Most business owners do. No employeeis paid well enough to have to work as long as I do.”
Ildaria raised her eyebrows at the words and reminded him, “I do your books. I know how well you pay your employees, and you pay us all ridiculously well. On top of that, you’re charging us a pittance in rent for the apartments and house. It barely covers the cost of electricity and water. Not to mention that your prices in the club are very reasonable. Your profits are a lot smaller than they could be.”
G.G. shrugged and moved to the next table to gather the glasses there. “How much money does a person need? You can’t takeit with you. Besides, I pay well so that my employees are happy. Happy employees make good employees, and good employees stay.”
“You’re a good boss,” she said, meaning it. He cared about people more than money. Few businessmen were like that.
G.G. snorted with disbelief, and shook his head. “I used to be. Now I’m turning into an aging pervert who spends all his wakinghours fantasizing about one of his employees, and his nights dreaming of her.” Straightening, he turned to wave his hand towardher with exasperation. “I mean look, I’ve put you in glasses, for heaven’s sake.”
Ildaria reached up to feel her face, surprised to note the eyeglasses resting on her nose. She hadn’t even realized they werethere until he mentioned them. She’d never in her life even imagined wearing them. She was immortal. Immortals didn’t needglasses. The nanos saw to that. But she was wearing glasses . . . which meant this was a dream.
Ildaria let her gaze skate over the rest of her outfit now, wondering if anything else was unusual. But she was wearing a black skirt and white blouse, one set of several she’d purchased to work at the fancy restaurant in Montana where she’d sometimes acted as hostess and sometimes as server. She’d been fortunate that they were just as suitable for her job in the office here and she hadn’t had to buy new clothes.
Her shoes were different though, Ildaria noted. They were still black high heels, but open-toed, and the black bow had beenmoved to rest on the band across the top of her foot rather than the heel. A quick swipe of her hair told her that it wasup in the customary bun she wore to work, though. So he’d only changed the shoes and added glasses. Not much of a change toher mind, and she turned her thoughts to wondering how she’d been so slow to realize this was another shared dream.
The answer was obvious. Despite the fact that she was asleep, it seemed so real, and so natural. It wasn’t like she’d pushedthrough a door into an upside-down circus or something. She’d walked into one of the rooms of the club and had assumed shewas awake and this was reality. But in reality she hadn’t seen much of G.G. for the last two weeks since she’d moved intothe apartment and the dreams had started. He’d been avoiding her. It hadn’t started right away. The night she’d moved in,he’d checked on her in the office often, and had his breaks there with her and H.D., sharing meals and chatting comfortably,laughing a lot. An hour before closing, he’d shown up to tell her that her eight hours were up and she and H.D. should goup to her new apartment and relax. He’d pick up H.D. once he’d cleaned up after closing.
Ildaria had taken H.D. upstairs and played with the pooch. When G.G. finished cleanup and showed up to collect his pup, she’d greeted him at the door with the offer of hot chocolate and they’d sat on her couch talking for several hours before he’d left for his own apartment. Ildaria had dragged herself off to bed then and fallen into the first of their shared dreams.
The next day had followed the same pattern, with G.G. checking on her often, sharing his meals with her, and enjoying hotchocolate and laughter together as they unwound afterward. Again it had
