Carrie had just taken the gentleman’s drink order when the bar grew quiet. She looked up from her order pad, and saw that almost everyone was looking toward the entrance. She turned around to see what, or who, had rendered the room silent…Alexander Petroff had finally arrived.

Upon finishing her training with Jeremy, Carrie had been set up to work as a cocktail waitress at The Space Bar. For a month, she’d been serving drinks to wealthy businessmen, waiting for Petroff to show up so she could start her first official assignment as a galaxy liaison, and now he was here.

“It’s showtime,” she mumbled under her breath.

“What was that, sweetheart?” the fat, sweaty guy she’d just taken a drink order from asked.

“Nothing,” she said, dodging his clammy hand that had been trying to grab her ass all evening.

“I’ll also have an order of—”

Ignoring the fat fuck, she turned and walked to the bar.

“Hey, Adam,” she called to the owner and sometimes bartender. “I need a martini, two olives for the fat letch at table four.”

“Is he giving you a hard time?”

“Nay, I can handle him. Thanks though.”

Carrie leaned against the bar and watched Petroff as he crossed the room. He was better looking in person with dark, wavy hair, an olive complexion with a five-o’clock shadow just starting to show. She knew from her orders that he was thirty-two years old and stood five foot ten inches tall. He was very sexy in a dark, mysterious kind of way. Yes, Carrie thought, I could have done much worse for my first assignment.

Petroff sat down and glanced across the room. He looked directly at Carrie. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in every inch of her in an instant. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she looked away.

When she looked up, Petroff was subtly pointing at her and whispering to a man seated at his table. Carrie smiled; successful first contact.

“Be careful with that guy,” Adam said, coming up behind her and startling her.

“Why? He’s very good looking.”

“Wealthy too. And from what I hear from the other girls, quite the charmer,” Adam explained. “But I also hear he can be very dangerous. Nobody is sure if what he does is legal or not.”

“Duly noted, but I can take care of myself.”

Adam looked as if he was going to say something else, but thought better of it. He handed Carrie her drink. Carrie put the drink on a tray and held the tray over her head, forcing her already short, black skirt to ride higher, exposing more of her firm, creamy thighs. Her braless breasts pushed firmly against the low-cut T-shirt that was the bar’s sexy uniform. Holding her head high, she crossed in front of Petroff’s table, but didn’t look at him.

At table four, she leaned over slowly, giving Petroff a good opportunity to check out her ass, if he chose to do so, which, if everything she’d heard and read about him was true, he would be doing right about now. Unfortunately, Mr. Fat Fuck mistook the seductive move for his benefit and tried to put his disgusting paw on her breast.

“Hey!” She jumped up, dropping her tray and knocking Fat Fuck’s drink onto his lap, which in turn caused him to jump up, almost knocking over the whole table with his wide girth.

The fat man reached across the table and tried to grab Carrie’s wrist, but before he could reach her, he was grabbed from behind and pinned to the table. “What the hell is going on?” he yelled.

Carrie looked up to see everyone in the bar looking at her. Alexander Petroff held Fat Fuck down by the neck and asked, “Is that any way to treat a lady?”

Carrie stood watching silently. She knew she could have handled the situation on her own, but could never risk drawing any attention to her. Besides, things couldn’t have worked out better with Petroff coming to her rescue.

“I said,” Petroff repeated, “is that any way to treat a lady?”

“Get off me! Who in the hell do you think you are?” Fat Fuck yelled, trying to squirm his way out from under Petroff’s vise grip.

“Gentlemen, please,” said Adam, running over. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Petroff looked at Adam, then at Carrie, and finally with a sigh of disgust, released the fat man from his grip.

“I apologize; I did not mean to make a scene.” Petroff looked directly at Adam, making it very clear he was apologizing to Adam, and only Adam.

Fat Fuck got up, looking as if he was ready to do battle, but when he saw it was Petroff who’d held him down, his eyes widened with fear. “I meant no disrespect,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Apologize to the lady, and we’ll call it even,” ordered Petroff.

He waddled over to Carrie and said, “Sorry, ma’am.” Fat Fuck did not look back as he scrambled for the exit.

“And I don’t want to see you in my bar again!” added Adam. “What are you all looking at? Get back to work.”

Everyone went back to what they were doing. When they were alone, Carrie smiled and said, “Thank you for doing that, Mr.…?”

“Petroff, Alexander Petroff. And thanks are not necessary. No woman should be subjected to that.” Petroff smiled at her.

Carrie was surprised that her heart started to beat a little faster. She had to remember that she was here to do a job and only a job, no matter how smooth and good looking Petroff was. Although, she reasoned, no harm in having a little fun along the way….

“Allow me to take you to dinner, to make up for lost tips. I’m sure your boss will let you off early, in lieu of what just happened. I imagine you’re a bit shaken up. A car will pick you up at ten. I look forward to seeing you then.” He didn’t ask or wait for a response.

Carrie was so surprised by his candor and demanding presence, she could only nod. She watched Petroff walk to the bar, say something to Adam, who also just nodded in response, and leave.

“Seems you’ve made quite an impression on Alexander Petroff,” Adam said, approaching her. “You’re free for the rest of the evening.”

“Thank you.”

“Remember what I said, Carrie; be careful with that man.”

“I said I can take care of myself,” she stated firmly. But deep down, she wondered if, where Alexander Petroff was concerned, she could.