"Oh, there's a difference in self pride and dishonoring one's self." He left it at that. "This room will do quite nicely." He smiled then and turned his gaze onto her. "What do you have against women doing women's work?"

"What do you have against women doing "men's work"?" Her fingers came up to create the quotation marks around the appropriate phrase, trying not to let him see how unsettled she was by his sudden civility. He actually had a very handsome smile ... no, no, she wasn't going to go there.

He gave her an astonished look, as if she should know that answer herself. "Because men's work is for men?" He glanced away, then back to her with a slight, confused frown and shake of his head. "You won't see a man in a tutu en pointe for the local ballet. Why should women put on trousers and drive a nail?"

"Because we can, and we have a right to explore our own personalities and abilities," she insisted, surprised and shocked that he even had to ask that. "And for your information, there is a local ballet troupe in RhyDin, and there are men in it." She sighed, hands on hips once again. "Why is it so hard for you to accept that I'm better in this job than any man Mr Clyde interviewed?"

"How about we agree to disagree, hmm?" He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Sitting down at the table, he leaned onto it. "You're going to do my head in."

She blinked, watching him suspiciously as he sat down. "What is this, a ploy for sympathy after the way you've treated me?" she demanded, not entirely hostile, but not far off it.

He waved her off, dismissively. "Do you always have to open your mouth? You'd be so much prettier if you'd just learn to keep your mouth from spewing." He shook his head and closed his eyes as he rubbed his forehead again.

Colby's jaw dropped open, ready to give him a piece of her mind. But she rethought it, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. "Whatever," she sighed, dropping her hands to her sides and moving towards the door. "Can I get you anything? Cyanide vodka, maybe?"

"I truly worry about this establishment under your guidance, Miss Summers. You're rude, disrespectful and have a tongue as sharp as any blade. You do my head in, woman. Why can't you listen to advice, smile and go about your merry way? Must you argue every point?"

She stopped, grinding her teeth as she turned back to look at him. "May I ask you something?" she said quietly, careful to keep her exasperation out of her tone. "If I was a man, would you have any doubts about my ability to run this club?"

He leaned back when she approached and canted his head curiously. "Miss Summers, anybody with the kind of attitude that you display would be a concern, yes. Male or female."

"Did it ever occur to you that you don't exactly make the best impression yourself?" she pointed out. "You're arrogant, evasive ... you make a point of insulting me somehow every time I speak to you. I have never met anyone who treats me the way you have. What do you want me to do? Turn into the weak, helpless, pointless little woman ideal that you have in your head for me? Or do you want your friend's club to be a success?"

"Your opinion of me has no affect on how I live my life, how I conduct business. I honestly don't care." He shrugged with a wave of his hand. "I do want this place to be a success, so you could at least try to be more feminine. Is that really too much to ask?"

"How does my being more feminine affect how successful this place is?" she asked with a faint laugh, confused by his rationale. "Really, I want to know. I'm not offering myself to any customer, no matter what they may think, and my attitude, as you put it, keeps drunk men from trying to take what I'm not offering."

"Sex sells." he shrugged and pulled out a cigarette case. "You don't have to give anybody anything more than a smile, a shake of your behind and a wink of your eye. The more they think they're going to get, the more they'll hang around waiting for it."

She sighed, automatically moving to the bar for an ashtray. Private room, different rules. Laying it in front of him, she leaned against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "That would be where the bar staff and waitress' uniforms come in," she told him. "I'm the senior manager, I can't engage in that form of advertising or I won't be able to protect my staff should anything happen because of that advertising."

He took out a cigarette from the silver case and then held the case out to her in offering. "Miss Summers, just try to wear a skirt and blouse that isn't so tight that every man in the place can see how cold it is outside. Something loose and comfortable for your first night."

She gave him a flat look, murmuring a 'thank you' as she slipped a cigarette from the case. "For your information, I do happen to wear a bra, and Mr Clyde has already provided the uniforms." And from the look on her face, she was not pleased with hers. She moved to pull a chair out, intending to sit next to him, if he would allow it.

He barely moved when she pulled out the chair, but did offer the lighter, already lit. The silver zippo matched the case. "What's wrong with the uniform that Clyde picked out?" He perched a cigarette between his lips.

She leaned forward, sucking in smoke until the cherry glowed red, and leaned back once again, crossing her legs. One hand smoothed her skirt down. The last thing she needed was for him to freak out over seeing an inch more leg than he was used to.

"Well, how about we start with a skin tight sheath in black satin, remove the arms, cut a slit from the neckline to between my breasts, and two slits up each side almost to my hips? Gee, I don't see anything wrong with that at all, do you?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she blew out a long stream of smoke.

Which, of course, she didn't do. In fact, she leaned back against the door itself, effectively shutting them in with a soft click. "Now you know how it feels, to be belittled and insulted with no reason," she said quietly, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Tell me what your problem with me is. It's not anything you've mentioned so far; those are all things you could get me fired for, and yet you haven't. So the problem isn't me, it's you. What's the problem?"

"You insufferable..." he growled and turned his back to her. Pacing the floor, he wrung his hands. "You want to know what the problem is, Miss Summers?" He finally turned to her and fairly snarled. "You think way too highly of yourself. A bit of humility will do you some good. Now let me out of here."

"No, that wasn't the answer," Colby shrugged lightly, refusing to let herself be intimidated by a man who couldn't even admit the truth to himself, let alone her. She didn't move, either. "We could be in here a long time, Mr Shriver. After all, you were the one who wanted the room soundproofed, weren't you?"

Standing in the middle of the room, he glared at her for a moment before that signature cocked smirk appeared. "I see, this is where I go to my knees and profess my undying want, need and love for you, right?" Turning his back to her, he walked over and sat back down. "Sorry to disappoint you, toots."

Colby snorted, rolling her eyes at his smirk. "Believe me, if I thought there was any chance of that happening, I'd be running for the hills," she assured him, remaining leant against the door for now. "It's time we got our issues out in the open, Mr Shriver, before they sabotage this club."

"If that were true, what I say wouldn't bother you so much, Miss Summers." He shrugged nonchalantly as possible while pulling the cigarette case out of his vest pocket. Silver flashed as the case was opened and a cigarette procured. His movements were thought out, calculated. Case was closed and he tapped the butt of the smoke against the silver. "And you are full aware of any issues that I have with you. So why not do your best to correct the situation? I mean, if what I say troubles you so much, then why not just start listening and heeding?"

"Because you seem to want to change me," she told him simply. "You want me to turn into some simpering idiot who does exactly what any man tells her to, simply because he's a man. That isn't me. I was brought up to respect myself, Mr Shriver, and obeying orders just because of the one giving them is not honouring my parents' wishes." She moved over to sit down once again, legs crossing comfortably.

"If you are so stiff and unbending in all things, then how the hell did you become a manager, much less a server in a restaurant?" The cigarette was brought up and with a flick of his thumb, fire met tobacco. Inhaling deeply, he sat the lighter on the table with the cigarette case. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he blew the plume of smoke directly towards her. "Tell me that you can bend over to tie your own shoes." He glanced down at her feet and smirked.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath until the smoke dissipated. "I can put my feet behind my own head, not that it's any of your business," she smiled venomously at him. "I am not stiff and unbending in all things, just with you. Perhaps you should turn your attention to why you bring out the worst in me, huh?"

"You don't like men?" Quipped before another inhalation of smoke was taken.

Colby actually laughed at that one, a genuine sound of mirth. "On the contrary, Mr Shriver, I like men very much," she assured him with a wide smile. "Just not so much the one sitting in front of me, doing his best to make me feel as though I'm a nothing." Which was a lie, but he didn't need to know that she did actually like him.

"Then you have misinterpreted my intentions, Miss Summers. If I thought you were a nothing, I wouldn't even bother speaking to you." Another bored shrug as a plume of smoke was blown towards the ceiling.

"Need I remind you of the response your 'charms' got from me just a few days ago?" she said acerbically. "All right, I'll be honest with you. You put me on the defensive right from the first time we met; I have yet to see a good enough reason for me to aquiesce to any of your demands regarding my person."

"Ah, but you will." He nodded and glanced back towards the wall. "Any chances of you letting me out? Or will I have to tell Clyde that you attempted to hold me prisoner?"

Grinning, Colby rose and moved over to the bar, pouring herself a small measure of whisky. "Drink?" she offered, glancing to the wall as he did. "And no, I don't think so. You have a problem with me, I have a problem with you. And there's plenty of provisions in here to keep us alive at least a week." She leaned one elbow back against the bar, grinning at him. "I think Mr Clyde would be pretty impressed, actually."

"No thanks, don't touch the stuff. It clouds the mind." He waved her off and took another drag from the cigarette. "We've aired our differences, neither party is willing to negotiate or compromise. I'd say we're at a stalemate. So let's leave it at that. Unless you have a bathroom attached to this room? It may get messy in here."

She smirked, reaching one hand over the bar and touching a small switch. Another section of wall swung in to reveal a fully equipped bathroom. "You have a very odd way of looking at things," she commented, sipping the whisky lightly. "I never said I wouldn't negotiate or compromise; you put the words into my mouth. But I'm reluctant to do either unless you are also willing to compromise."

He watched the door slide open and he smiled. "Thank you." He didn't respond to the rest. Snubbing out the cigarette, he rose with a soft groan. Then he found his way across the room and into the bathroom. Quickly finding the latch, he slid the door closed and then leaned back against it. The woman was going to be the death of him! Headstrong, intelligent, and beautiful to boot. He wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Glancing around the bathroom, his eyes landed on the small window that opened out to the alley. A grin spread across his face and he advanced quickly. The window was opened with the ease only a brand new window could give. He groaned as if feeling pleasure from relieving himself. Then he climbled up onto the toilet. As he pushed himself up onto the windowsill, his foot tapped the lever to flush. Then he pulled himself up and out of the window. Dusting himself off, he strolled to the mouth of the alley, flipping his silver dollar.

"What's the magic word?" How was that for playing with fire? Never mind the question, Colby somehow found herself leaning against the bar next to his stool as she said it, lips quirking into a very small, very cheeky smile.

"Now." Flippantly he turned away from her to inspect the crown moldings along the ceiling. "Those are nice."

Her arms crossed as she smirked at him looking away. "You're not getting a drink until you use some common manners at the very least," she told him firmly. "Or do you keep your manners in your other suit?"

"What is your primary function at this establishment, Miss Summers?" He lifted a brow and a finger to hush her before she could speak. "Ultimately, it's to see that the patrons are seen to and kept happy. Whether it's by keeping the staff in line, keeping the shelves stocked, or by actually getting your hands dirty and serving a customer yourself, that is your job. I am a client, an important one, I'd say. So you'll do as you're asked. Or Clyde will be let known of your lack of interest."

Colby rolled her eyes. She wasn't entirely sure if he would go to Mr Clyde, but the last thing she needed was someone else making her life difficult. So, with a less than graceful sigh, she pushed off the bar and moved around behind it, pulling a tumbler from beneath the counter. "How'd you like it, Mr Shriver?"

"That's my girl." He patted her backside when she passed and then leaned his elbows on the bar, arms folded. "Neat." He had no intention of drinking it, he was just testing her.

She let out an indignant squawk at his hand on her rear. "Would you mind not doing that?" Pretty polite, really, given how free he was with her person. The whisky was poured, a perfect measure by hands long practised at serving drinks, and the tumbler laid in front of him, on a custom-made napkin. She leaned onto her elbows. "And I'm no one's 'girl'."

He accepted the drink, curling long fingers around the tumbler and simply holding it. "You might want to get used to it." What was he referring to? Those laughing eyes would never tell. Let her try to figure it out, he reckoned.

Not impressed, Colby's brow raised as she smirked. "Uh-huh, of course," she smiled sarcastically, dragging her hands along the countertop as she stood up. "Well, you have your drink now, and I have work to do. Oh, and by the way ..." She flipped his silver dollar back to him. "You don't owe me nothin' for that one, doll."

He lifted a brow and then the tumbler to catch the silver dollar. He stared into the tumbler for a moment before turning a confused look to her. "Wasn't for payment, dollface. Was for luck." He shrugged and turned back to the bar.

"You think I need luck?" She paused beside him, out from behind the bar, with her head tilted curiously. "Thought men like you make their own luck."

"We do, which is why you can use all the luck you can get." He fished into the alcohol and plucked the dollar from the amber depth between his first two fingers, then held it out to her. "Keep it."

Her eyes flicked from the dollar to his face, back and forth for a long moment. Then she moved, stepping forward to close her lips around the dollar and his fingers, cleaning it and them of the whisky. Her eyes didn't leave his at all as she drew back. "Might wanna rethink giving me anything."

He watched her with a cocked brow. When she spoke, he brought his dry hand to his eyes and rubbed, seemingly frustrated. "Back to square one. Why show what you're willing to do for a dollar?"

She smirked, giggling softly. "Because it puts the cutest look of utter bewilderment on your face I ever did see," she laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "Something tells me this business relationship is going to be a lot of fun, if you're so easy to tease."

He grabbed her wrist and nearly snarled. "Do not attempt to think that you are teasing me, Miss Summers. You're playing with a fire that burns."

She met his eyes with defiant impudence, tilting her head to toss her hair a little. "Funny, all I've seen it do is spark impotently," she grinned, her choice of words very deliberate. "And if you think I would do anything like that for any sum of money, honey, you are dead wrong."

He released her with a jerk of her arm. "Good day, Miss Summers." He turned and started for the door. A thought struck him and he turned slowly, a finger raised in the air. "I do have to apologize. I realize that a dollar is far more than you're worth, or used to receiving for services rendered. I'll do my best to remember that."

Her jaw dropped in outraged indignation. "You bastard!" was ground out between her teeth, and she caught up his unfinished whisky and threw it in his face. "Get the hell out of my club!"

His eyes closed as the whiskey splashed over his face, and he kept his mouth tight lipped to keep the burning alcohol from getting past them. Slowly he pulled the hankerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his face. "Temper, temper."

"I said, get out!" She stalked towards him, fully prepared to give him a good push out the door herself. She'd never felt so insulted in her life. "And don't you worry about my temper - if you're a fixture here, I won't be!"

He was very prepared to stand his ground. Laughing, an insulting, mocking laugh. "And you were so willing when being kissed. Tell me something?"

"Corsets are old fashioned, even by my standards." he raised a brow and watched as she digested everything that had been said and done. His expression softened and he shook his head. "No."

"Wait - what?" Colby backed up a step, staring up at him in confusion. "But you said ... if all this has been a test, then that means the kiss was too, right? You want me to just give up and kiss back anytime a man grabs me?"

"No, just me." His hand moved to curl around her jaw and he slid in close enough to kiss her, right proper.

Her eyes snapped wide open for all of a second before she relaxed, letting out a very quiet squeak of suprised pleasure as his mouth covered hers. She didn't pull away; just as before, Colby held on and let it happen, ignoring the little voice in her head screaming that giving away kisses to a man who'd spent two weeks calling her a whore was a bad idea.

It felt good to finally relax, now that the jig was up. He'd been looking forwards to this moment for a long while. The one hand moved up and into her hair line, the other rose to gently touch her cheek. His kiss was strong and powerful, but submissive at the same time.

Feeling him relax, she pretty much told her inner voice to take a hike, stepping closer to wrap her arms tight around him. Her hand slid up to curl about the back of his neck as her lips parted, teasing his lips apart as she engaged in the kiss that she was certain would be as much about giving as taking.

As soon as her lips parted, his matched and gently suckled her tongue. And it's funny what goes through a man's head when he's realizing things. Suddenly pulling back, he laughed, almost ruefully. "Clyde is a sly bastard."

The suddenness of his pull away had her blinking in confusion. "Wh-what?" She lowered back to her heels, feeling her cheeks flush for how easily she'd melted for him then.

"About six months ago there was a bit of drama with a little chit." He shook his head and laughed. "Tried to say that because I kept her out past dark that I was to marry her. Lit out of town and that was that. Told Clyde that I was a bachelor and would stay that way. So we put a wager on it." He smiled at her then. "Bastard is sneaky."

She stared at him for a long moment, thinking her way through what he'd just said. Then her jaw dropped for the umpteenth time. "Oh, no ... no, no, no, you're not using one kiss to pin me down," she shook her head vehemently. "Look, I like you, okay? But ... seriously, you don't want me. I'm way too outspoken, I don't know how to back down, there's a lot wrong with me. Why else would I still be single, huh?"

He stared at her and his brows rose in amusement. "Hey, who said that I was trying to pin you down. I"m just saying that Clyde thought that is what would happen. I've seen you at your worst, remember?"

"Well ... yeah." Colby shifted uncomfortably. "It doesn't count, anyway. I'm employed by Mr Clyde, and therefore he could have employed me just for this purpose, which makes the wager null and void." She smirked cheerfully up at him. "See why I got the job now, do you?"

"Very clever girl." He grinned back and gently knocked her chin with his fist. "But Clyde won't be seeing it that way." He brought his fist under his own light blue gaze to inspect his fingernails. "Though, since we already have seen each other's worst sides..." slowly, he raised his gaze, and a dark brow towards his hairline, inquisitively.

She watched him, smiling faintly as his gaze rose to hers. Okay, he deserved a bit of teasing for what he'd put her through. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked politely, lifting her fingers to cup behind her ear. "I didn't quite catch that. Did you want to ask me something?"

After what he'd put her through, he'd willingly eat a bit of crow. Lowering his head he shrugged a bit and kept his eyes from her face. "Well, I mean, you and I have seen the worst. What do you say about seeing the best?"

Grinning impishly, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Mmm ... no, I'm still not getting you very clearly at all," she mused teasingly. "I know! How about you talk to me, and not my boobs?" Her hand reached out to turn his face towards hers as she chuckled.

"And you call me insufferable?" When his head was turned, he took the extra step of leaning forward so that his mouth hovered over hers. "Shut up and kiss me."

With his breath tickling her lips, Colby grinned up at him, making certain her mouth brushed against his as she spoke. "With pleasure, Mr Shriver," was whispered laughingly, even as her arms slid around him, pressing her close in the quiet darkness of the empty club.

The kiss was brief, as he chuckled through most of it. "I'm owing Clyde money."

"Not if I have anything to do with it, you don't," she said archly. "I still owe him for setting me up, after all." The look in her eyes was not one any business man wanted to see from an invaluable member of staff just two weeks before beginning business.

"Consider it paid training, with a nice bonus." Laughing, he backed up and guarded himself in that sensitive area. He'd been at the receiving end of her angry knee one time too many.

"Uh-huh!" No, Colby was far more imaginative than that. She caught up her keys from the counter, turned, and cut the lights. She'd been here often enough to know her way to the upstairs apartment easily in the dark; his only clue would be the clack of her heels, and in a space this big, there were a lot of echoes.

Luckily, he was close enough to the bar that when the lights went down, he reached for it and pulled himself onto a barstool. Sitting there, in the dark, he waited patiently. "Just remember, I was set up, too."

"You weren't set up to get hurt," was her reply out of the darkness. She opened the door, putting herself into silhouette for his enjoyment without really thinking about it. She could just about make him out in the gloom. "Now, am I locking you in here all night, or are you going to get off your backside and come with me?"

He looked up and caught her curvy figure in silhouette. A lopsided grin spread across his features. "Is that an invitation into your boudoir?"

Colby let her gaze linger on him for a long moment, the dim light from the hallway illuminating her somewhat predatory smile. Part of her knew this was a bad idea, but the rest of her was more than willing to take the risk. She tilted her head, lifting one finger to beckon him towards her.

"Said the spider to the fly."