by Gina Drayer
Even though money was tight, Dylon could ask his friend Cash to lend him a hand making a few cosmetic upgrades. He hated playing the friend card, but now that someone was going to be living there, it would be nice to fix it up a bit.
“So?” he said, turning back to Lee. “What do you think?
“What about utilities?”
“I pay them.”
“And you can help me find some new furniture.” She eyed the ratty sofa. “A real sofa would be nice.”
“I think I have one lined up. A decent one made of real leather and fairly new.”
She looked around one more time, and for a second, Dylon thought she was going to change her mind. But when she turned back around, he saw a determined look in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll take it. And the job.”
She reached out her hand to cement the deal. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his rough, callused fingers. She looked into his eyes and smiled, and the wave of desire that washed over him caught him off guard. There was something in her face, in the light in her eyes, in her touch that made this woman— who, he reminded himself sternly, was off limits—very alluring.
He snatched his hand back and laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “I think we had a deal hours ago, sweetheart. It just took you a little time to realize it.”
“Can I move in tonight? All I have is the suitcase downstairs.”
Again, he wondered what she was running from, because he was more certain than ever that she was running from something. Maybe it was the ex she’d mentioned. It wouldn’t be the first time a relationship had gone south and someone left with little more than a suitcase. Hell, it was practically his mother’s M.O. when he was growing up. When she was done with the current douche du jour, they’d pack up and leave in the middle of the night.
“I don’t see why not,” he said, sorting through his key ring.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he handed her the keys to the apartment. All of the nervous tension he’d noticed earlier had melted away. A lot about this woman seemed off. He wasn’t usually one to press into people’s personal lives. It was something he’d have to keep an eye on. For now, he was just happy to have a new waitress and someone to occupy the empty apartment.
“The bar opens at eleven for lunch, but you’ll start at four for the evening shift. There are usually two people front of house for dinner not including myself or one of the other bartenders. And then there’s the kitchen staff, but Gabe runs things back there.”
“Gabe?” she asked, trying to keep everything straight.
“He’s the chef. He keeps a pretty low profile, and doesn’t like the rest of us invading his space.”
“I thought you ran the place.”
“I run the bar. The kitchen is Gabe’s domain. Once you tried his food you’ll understand why I don’t care.”
“What days do you want me to work?” she asked, not that she had anything to do with her time.
“You can have Monday and Tuesdays off, and Abbie has Wednesday and Thursday off. On the weekends I might need you to work some afternoon shifts. I have six other part-time staff that rotate shifts. If you need time off, arrange it with one of them.”
“And what days are you off? Who runs the place then?”
He laughed. “I have two other bartenders that work shifts. But I’m at the bar almost every night. The bastard I work for doesn’t give me any days off.”
“He should be nicer to you,” she said softly, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.
Dylon couldn’t tell if she was flirting with him or not, and that was a new feeling. Usually, he was able to read people. But he wasn’t sure what to make of this secretive woman. She was a bundle of contradictions. The best thing he could do, the safest, would be to steer clear.
“I have some sheets I can bring down and a couple towels,” he said and turned to the door. “I’ll let you get settled in.” He stopped at the door, unable to help himself. “If you need anything else, let me know. I’m just upstairs.”
Dylon knew he was inviting trouble. But what could he do? He’d always been a sucker for strays.
Chapter Five
Dylon’s new employee was working out better than he expected. Even though she lacked experience, she was a quick learner and not afraid to ask questions.
It was obvious that she’d never worked a service job before, but he’d never seen anyone take the task of learning to be a barmaid so seriously. It seemed to be part of her nature to excel. And now that she’d decided to be a waitress, she intended to be the best. Her intense focus didn’t keep her from being friendly, thankfully.
The customers liked her. Maybe a little too much for his taste. She was like a lost lamb in a pack of hungry wolves.
There were a lot of single men that came in, mostly to sit at the bar and have a drink or two. But some were on the prowl and bided their time waiting for single women to show up. For Dylon’s part, he made sure that the bar kept a friendly atmosphere. Women didn’t mind dropping in for a drink. They knew Dylon kept an eye on things and didn’t let anyone bother them if all they wanted was a drink.
He didn’t discourage singles looking to hook up. That was good business too, because people had to go somewhere to meet. But he made sure that his customers that just came in for a drink—especially the women—felt safe and comfortable. That’s why he had so many regulars.
The foursome from a few nights ago came in laughing and seated themselves at the same table. They shouted out when they saw Lee.
“Hey, looks like you made the cut,” one of the women laughed. “Is Claudia coming back? That would make for an interesting show.”
Lee wasn’t fazed. “Sorry. I guess you’ll have to settle for great drinks and atmosphere. I serve with a smile but try to avoid the theatrical bits.”
“Just as well,” a man said. “I’m wearing my best suit. I’d hate to end up with a lap full of beer.”
Lee just smiled and took their orders. Dylon tried to ignore the way the man leered at her. As the night went on, he got a little too friendly, touching her arm and making less than subtle offers. He knew he couldn’t stand by any longer. She needed some guidance on how to handle a customer like that.
“Lee, can I see you for a sec?”
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked as she followed him back to his office.
“Yes. No.” He sat down on the other side of the desk and rubbed his face. “You’re too friendly with the customers. I don’t want it to be a problem.”
He must have hit a nerve because her cheeks colored and she crossed her arms protectively. “I don’t understand. I thought that was the idea. Be friendly to the customers, so they come back.”
“Yah, I want you to be friendly. It’s just if you’re too friendly, some of these guys get the wrong idea.”
“Other than your hours ignore everything he says,” Abbie said from the doorway.
“Really?”
He scowled at her, but Abbie didn’t care. She barged into the small room and sat on his desk. “Look, I’ve finally got this place running right, and I don’t need you teaching her to do things the wrong way.”
“The wrong way? However I want things done is how it goes. It’s my bar.”
She waved away his objections. “You keep thinking that. When it comes to waiting tables, keeping the flow of things going”—she smiled at him sweetly—“and doing the real work, it’s my bar. Look, you spend your night behind the bar mixing drinks. That keeps people coming in, but what do you know about the rest of it? You don’t know what it’s like out on the floor.”
He’d done his fair share of serving and bussing tables, but he liked the way Abbie took ownership of the operation, and there was no reason to step on her toes. It was her style to take charge. She even bossed the customers around and made them love it. In her own way, she was quite a manipulator.
“Does that boyfriend of yours let you boss him around like this?” he asked.
“Whatever, just keep an eye on Lee,” he said.
Cut out of the training, Dylon contented himself watching her. She made no pretense of knowing how things worked and happily let Abbie show her the details of opening for daily business, recording drink tabs, and dividing up the work.
“We each have our own tables, but if a customer of mine asks for something, let me know. If you can’t find me, don’t keep them waiting. For standard stuff, like a draft beer or wine, or anything in the cooler, just grab it for them. If it’s a mixed drink, let Dylon know what you need. We can do regular drinks, but if it’s off one of the special menus, one of the bartenders needs to make it.”
“Regular drinks like scotch or regular mixed drinks like vodka martinis?”
Abbie held up a finger. “With extra olives. Which is another point. It is really good for customer relations, which I spell t-i-p-s, to make sure you remember their special drinks, how they like them, neat, on the rocks, whatever. It flatters them—men and women both—and flattery keeps the cha-ching of the tip machine running smoothly. But we can only do the non-mixed drinks.”
“Good, because I’m not a big drinker. I don’t think I could make even the simple stuff,” Lee said. “I’m not even sure I know what half the drinks are.”
“Let’s get together after work. I’ll mix you up some,” he offered before realizing exactly how that sounded. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. “It’s good for the servers to try the drinks on the menu. In case a customer asks.”
Abbie laughed, shaking her head. “I better get back out there and help Michael. When you two finish planning your date, send Lee back out.”
Dylon frowned and turned back to Lee. Her cheeks were that pretty pink again. “It’s not a date. Since you live upstairs, I thought after work would be the best time.”
“I assumed as much.” Her cheeks were even redder now, and she looked down at the floor. “How about next Monday? That way, I don’t have to worry about drinking and working the next day. I can come down before you close up?” Lee looked over her shoulder quickly. “I should really get back now.”
After that disastrous meeting, Dylon thought about calling it a night since Michael was bartending. Sitting there watching Lee was doing nothing for his resolve to stay away.
“What does a person have to do to get a drink in this dump?” a man behind him asked.
Dylon turned to see the familiar and welcome smile of his friend Cash. On his arm was Kim, his stunning girlfriend.
“Well, first he has to be polite, and next he has to let me kiss his gorgeous girlfriend.” Kim came over and gave him a kiss on the cheek and the couple took seats at the bar. “A whiskey for the lady and my newest stout for the bum who claims to be my friend?”
Cash rested an elbow on the bar and grinned. “Am I that predictable?”
“Only for the last year or so.”
“Make mine a double,” Kim added. “Work has been kicking my ass lately.”
Dylon got off his bar stool and headed behind the bar. Abbie came up and reached over to grab the nozzles and filled a glass with soda. “Cash and Kim, how are you? It’s good to see you two together.”
Cash patted Kim’s arm. “It is, isn’t it? I guess that’s why I had to ask the girl to marry me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Abbie said with a squeal.
Kim smiled and held up her hand, sporting a sparkling diamond. “I had to say yes.”
“Besides, ‘no’ is such a hard and evil word,” Abbie said, putting drinks on her tray. “And you know that for all his rough edges Cash is a really sappy guy. I’m surprised it took him this long to ask you.” She gave Kim’s arm a hug and headed back to the table with the drinks.
Lee came up to the bar, brushing her hair from her face. “Table six wants to know if you can make a Black Russian with gin. I think the right question is ‘will you?’ It sounds awful.”
Dylon laughed. “If I am forced, and if you promise that I don’t have to drink it. Just never mention this at the Hotel Metropole, or they might string me up.”
“Then I need one of those evil-sounding things, over ice, but in a tall glass, and a pear cider with lemonade.”
Dylon made a face and began mixing the drinks. “It’s weird drink night here at Bernadette’s, it seems.”
Lee laughed. “You know that’s a good idea. You could do a theme night. Twisted drink. Aren’t the profits higher on those?”
Dylon nodded. “True. And fixing twisted drinks for twisted souls is my calling.”
Cash sipped his drink. “Okay, it’s killing me. Why shouldn’t they know at the Hotel Metropole that you’re making a Black Russian with gin?” He glanced at Lee and rolled his eyes. “He loves dropping absurd trivia into conversations, so he can show off his drinkery knowledge.”
“Drinkery? That’s not a word,” Dylon said. “But if you want to know, Gustave Tops invented the Black Russian at the Hotel Metropole, in Brussels. The Russian part comes from it being five parts vodka. So using gin kind of defeats the whole idea. This Black Russian that isn’t much Russian.”
Cash sipped his beer. “Clearly a sacrilege. I like her idea, though. You should have an official weird drink night. You can give out a prize for the most offensive drink.” He held out a hand to Lee. “Dylon totally lacks social graces, so I see I’m forced to introduce myself. I’m Cash, and this is Kim, and you must be new.”
“I’m busy here,” he said and went back to mixing the drinks as his friends introduced themselves. Coffee liqueur with gin instead of vodka was wrong. The flavors didn’t match. He decided to add a little cola and finished with a splash of Irish stout to mellow out the mix.
“Don’t mind him. It’s the hat,” Kim said. “The hat destroys all pretense of social norms.”
“I’m Lee. I just started a few days ago.”
“Besides being friends, they’re neighbors. They live a few blocks away,” Dylon said, starting the second drink. “They used to be more frequent visitors, but work is keeping them busy, or so they keep saying. Cash owns a construction company, and Kim is an art director at a marketing firm.”
“Creative director,” she said, holding out a hand to Lee.
“So does this mean Claudia is …?” Cash said looking at Dylon.
“History,” Dylon said, sliding the other drink across the bar to Lee. “A Black Russian imposter and there’s your lemon pear concoction.”
She sniffed the faux Black Russian. “That doesn’t look half bad. I like the weird drink night idea. A little challenge is good for you.”
As Lee headed off, Kim smiled slyly at Dylon. “I like her. She’s got a lot of spunk.”
When Lee was out of earshot, Kim leaned forward and whispered her question. “So if Claudia is gone, who warms your bed now, Dylon?”
He caught the implication. “No one at the moment. Claudia hasn’t been a guest there for some time. In fact, you are two women behind. That makes you a lousy scorekeeper.” He made a face. “And, to answer what you haven’t asked— I don’t sleep with the help. It’s a new rule.”
“It’s a good rule, unless …”
“Unless what?”
Cash laughed. “She thinks you have eyes for the new kid.”
“I don’t.”
“Oh my,” Kim laughed. “Such a firm and insistent denial. That speaks volumes.”
“Abbie insisted I hire her.”
Kim punched his arm. “Of course she did. But bear in mind that Abbie knows what you like and prefers you when you aren’t all cranky and out of sorts.”
Cash put his arm around her waist. “You, my dear, are a troublemaker.”
“I’m not. I just think that Dylon could use a nice woman in his life for a change.”
“See what you’ve done,” Dylon said and pointed at Kim. “This is all becaus
e you asked her to marry you. Once women start thinking about weddings, they want to pair up all their friends.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” Kim said. “I just think she’s sweet on you.”
“And what makes you think that?”
Kim reached over and took his hand. “Look in her eyes, Dylon.”
“What would I be looking for? Exactly, I mean.”
“The neon sign that says you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be. And yes, for the record, I really like her.”
Dylon didn’t want to look into her eyes. He had a good idea what he’d see there. It wouldn’t be a neon sign. Lee had a past that she was holding on to and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t like what he found.
“You shouldn’t tease me, Kim. You know I’m a sap when it comes to women.”
“That might be the dark side of being a magnet for them,” Kim said.
Cash laughed. “I think his natural sappiness is the reason they are attracted to him.”
All joking aside, Dylon had to agree that he was attracted to Lee and that she was something different, a special woman. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He felt out of his league around her, and that never happened. And then, on top of that uncertain feeling, hung whatever lurked in the dark cloud he saw over her head. It worried him that she was in some kind of trouble, and that irritated him because it meant he already cared about her.
Lee’s life in hiding wasn’t so bad. While it wasn’t exactly what she expected, at least she felt safe for the first time in almost a month. And news from the DA’s office was positive. Janet even felt like they might be able to flip Christian, although Lee highly doubted it.
Life at Bernadette's kept her on her feet. Abbie had decided to appoint herself as Lee’s mentor and de facto best friend. All she’d done to earn her loyalty was to acknowledge that Abbie knew more about the job than she did. It was the truth. A master’s degree in finance might teach you a lot about business, but it didn’t have a damn thing to do with waiting tables, cleaning up, taking out the garbage, or any of the million other tasks that were required in her newfound profession. Having gone through school on a full ride scholarship and spent her summers interning at financial institutions, the closest Lee had come to knowing anything about the workings of a bar was how to order drinks.
