What's Your Pleasure

by Marie Haynes

  “Whoa, Joe,” a familiar voice said. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

  “Sorry, Nathan. I guess I was in my own world,” she answered. “Umm, you can let go of me now.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” he smoothly replied, running his hands along her shoulders.

  Joe went rigid. She saw the question in his eyes but chose to ignore it. Instead, she gave his hands a pointed glance. When he dropped them to his sides, she nodded her thanks.

  “Guess we all have to do things we don’t want to do,” she said stonily.

  Nathan laughed.

  Joe relaxed. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad, after all.

  “Seriously, Blondie, where you headed?”

  “I just need to pick up a few things. Figured I’d wander about until I found a store or something.”

  Again, Nathan laughed. “You’re going to be wandering for a good long time. Closest one is about 3 miles from here.”

  “Good Lord! How do people in this neighbourhood get groceries and things?” she asked.

  “Drive. Got a car?” he inquired.

  Joe sighed. “Yeah. It’s parked around back, but no air conditioning and next to no gasoline.” Damn. She had some cash from tips last night, but probably not enough for her purchases and gas.

  “What about the Market?”

  “You mean the Farmer’s Market? I’m not quite sure where that is,” she admitted.

  “Tell you what. I was going to shoot the bull with Vincent before heading to work in a few hours. But I need a few things, too. Why don’t I walk with you?”

  Joe considered. As a rule, she didn’t hang with strangers, but Nathan wasn’t exactly a stranger. Besides, he knew the lay of the land a hell of a lot better than she did.

  “Sure. Thanks,” she answered.

  “This way, my lady.” He bowed and reached out to touch her shoulder.

  Without thinking, Joe jerked away and began walking in the direction he had pointed, ignoring his narrowed eyes watching her.

  Having visited the area several times before, Joe was somewhat familiar with the buildings, but she’d only enjoyed the night life. Now, she smiled at the array of noises, smells and sights the Farmer’s Market offered.

  “I’ve always wondered why this area is called ‘Soulard’. Do you know?” she asked Nathan.

  “As a matter fact, I do. It’s named after Antoine Soulard, a strapping Frenchman who did a bit of surveying work for the King of Spain back in the mid 1800s or so,” he explained.

  “A Frenchman working for Spain?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. Who’d have thought?” Nathan laughed. “Actually, this open Market is one of the oldest in the U.S.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Julia Soulard, Antoine’s widow, donated this land to the City of St. Louis. Then, in 1929, this building was constructed. Rumour has it that it was modelled after the Foundling Hospital in Florence, Italy,” he continued.

  Joe was fascinated. She loved historic buildings and the whole concept of continuing traditions.

  “It’s a wonder no one has tried to close it in or convert it into condos,” she commented.

  “Actually, a few years back there was a group who wanted to do just that,” he said. “The people here, the sellers as well as the patrons, got a petition together, and the deal was dropped.”

  “I’m glad,” Joe said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Nathan agreed.

  Passing by a display of beef, Joe stopped to stare. “Okay, I’ve heard of some weird food before, but fresh beef testicles? Who the hell would eat that? I mean, come on, if you have a whole bull to eat, wouldn’t you eat everything but that first? By that time, they sure wouldn’t be fresh anymore!”

  Nathan threw back his head and laughed so loudly that a few people turned to stare.

  “My thought exactly! I’ll stick with other St. Louis favourites like toasted ravioli or a nice brain sandwich,” he responded.

  Joe looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “I gotta agree that toasted ravioli is spectacular, but I’ll leave the brain sandwich to you. Yuck!” She shook her head a bit, just imagining how to prepare such a concoction.

  “Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it. Vince’s grandmother used to make a phenomenal brain sandwich, God rest her soul,” Nathan said with a grin. “Really. Cross my heart. She removed the membrane first, then sliced it nice and thick, heated up some bacon grease in a cast iron skillet…”

  “Stop already!” Joe begged. “Keep that up, and I’ll become a vegan!”

  Nathan laughed again but refrained from discussing the topic any more. Instead, he watched Joe select a few fruits and vegetables. She couldn’t help but notice his furrowed brow when a stranger bumped against her back, causing her to flinch. Damn, all she needed was to start raising Nathan’s suspicions.

  * * * *

  “So, I hear you spent the morning at the Market with Nathan,” Vincent remarked as Joe strolled into the bar that evening. Christ, she looks good. He could just imagine her bent over the bar, her naked ass glowing with the marks of his hand, her thighs glistening with dampness. Quickly, Vince grabbed a towel and held it nonchalantly in front of his suddenly erect cock. All I need now is for her to see Mr. Big and Hard. She’ll think I’m some pervert.

  “Yeah, I’d never been there but plan to go back often. Nathan even gave me a quickie history lesson. Nice guy. Weird sense of humour, though,” she added, shaking her head slightly.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Vincent said, a grin spreading over his face. “Did he point out the skinned and dressed coons?”

  He laughed, noting the look of disbelief on her face.

  “Guess not, but really, if you ever get a hankering for fried racoon for dinner, that’s the place to pick one up,” he assured her.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Joe sounded hesitant and quickly turned to take an inventory of the stock.

  Vincent continued to keep an eye on Joe as she set up for the evening rush. Dressed in painted on blue jeans, black T-shirt and sneakers, she again managed to look sexy but professional at the same time. Vince couldn’t quite contain a sigh of disappointment as he noted the outline of a bra beneath the shirt, but even that addition couldn’t quite hide her hardened nipples pressing against the material. Maybe I should set the air conditioner down a bit more, he thought deviously.

  Tonight she had once more spiked her short hair, which showed off her black, crescent-shaped earrings. Those and a heart locket represented her only jewellery. Simple elegance, Vincent thought as he unlocked the door and turned on the ‘Open’ sign.

  “Vincent, can I talk to you?” Joe asked.

  “Anytime, Joe. What’s on your mind?” You want me to rip your clothes off and take you right now? How about if you lock your sweet, beautiful lips around my cock and suck me dry? Vincent blinked innocently, hoping those last words were just in his head and not out there in the open.

  “Why did you name this place Hot Shots?”

  “I didn’t. It came with it. Why?”

  “When Nathan and I were walking around today, I noticed at least two other bars with almost identical names,” she began.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, let’s say some guy, Paul, has a good time,” she said.

  “Paul?” he frowned then remembered. Brown Suit Guy. “Oh yeah, Paul.”

  “So he goes to work the next day and tells all his friends he had a great time at Hot Shots.”

  “I’m liking this scenario so far,” he encouraged.

  “Don’t interrupt. But his friends go by one of those other bars and think that’s the place he meant, so they go in and they have a good time there.” Joe paused and looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

  “I never thought of that,” Vincent admitted. “You think I should change the name?”

  “That’s your decision, not mine, but you might think about it,” she answered honestly but obviously not wanting to overstep her bounds as a
new employee.

  Watching her turn to greet the first customer of the night, Vincent followed her advice. Considering her words, he conceded she was right. Off the top of his head, he could think of at least three other bars with names that could easily be confused with Hot Shots, and that was just on the west side of the River. He had no idea how many of them lurked over in Illinois. But, if he were going to change the name, what would he change it to?

  Makes sense to change it, though. Why in the hell haven’t I thought of that before?

  Research. That’s what he needed.

  I’ll do a little research on bar names in the area, maybe a radius of thirty miles, and go from there.

  Taking up his regular stool in the corner, he sipped a beer and watched as a few patrons strolled in. Joe greeted them and took their orders, all with efficient friendliness. As the evening wore on, a steady stream of people came in, singles as well as couples, but Vincent sighed as he realised that no one could say the place was packed.

  Suddenly his ears perked up as he heard Joe say, “Naw, the sand tends to get into unpleasant places. How about I just fix that shot for you?”

  Sex on the Beach. Seemed like lately a lot of drinks, especially shots, sported sexually charged names. There’s a thought.

  “Think fast!” a deep voice called.

  Vincent raised his hands, barely catching the beer thrown at him. Good thing the manufacturer now made non-breakable bottles.

  “Nathan, you’re early tonight,” Vincent grinned.

  “Yeah, a bit. Got off work ahead of schedule and thought I’d come on in. How’s Blondie doing tonight?” he asked.

  As he popped open the bottle, Vincent’s eyes strayed over to watch his new, sexy bartender. He frowned, noticing how the guy who had wanted the shot was leaning over the bar reaching for Joe.

  “Was okay, but looks like she’s having some trouble now,” Vincent said as he started to stand.

  Nathan turned around as well but put a restraining hand on Vincent’s arm. “Give her a minute. See how she does on her own. If she needs help, I’m there, not you. It’s what you pay me for. Okay, it’s what you give me free beer for. Besides, I think she’s got it under control.”

  Vincent nodded. She did seem to know what she was doing, but he wasn’t about to just sit still and watch her get mauled by some drunk punk. Rather than sitting next to Nathan, he wandered to the far end of the bar and sat on a stool. Nathan, he noticed, followed and took the stool next to him.

  “Look, Big Guy, I’m not interested. I don’t date, and if I did, I wouldn’t date you. But I will refill your drink if you’d like,” Joe said with a sardonic smile and a firm tone.

  Apparently, Big Guy was an idiot, Vincent decided, because as Joe set another shot in front of him, he stood up and grabbed her wrist. Both Vincent and Nathan got to their feet, but Joe was quicker. With slow precision, she reached over with her free hand, grabbed a cocktail fork from the garnish bin, leaned on the bar and pressed the fork against Big Guy’s crotch.

  “Unless you want your boys impaled on the end of this and dangling from the rim of my boss’s martini glass,” she glanced over at him and Nathan, “I’d suggest you let go of my wrist and get a grip on yourself. Sometimes when a girl says ‘Fuck off’ she really means it,” she delivered in a quiet but firm voice.

  Big Guy got the hint that time, because despite the darkness in the bar, Vincent saw the colour drain from the man’s face. Vincent grinned as the man nodded wordlessly, resumed his seat and downed his shot.

  Joe smiled sweetly. “I thought you’d understand.”

  Both Vincent and Nathan sat down again and glanced at each.

  “Told you she could handle it,” Nathan bragged.

  “Yeah, Yeah. I see that,” Vincent agreed.

  “You guys need anything?” Joe asked.

  “Nope, we’re good. And, by the way, so are you,” Vincent complimented. “Kept your cool with that guy but were firm. Nice job.”

  Joe just grinned. “He’s all talk. But, I did invoke your name. It helped having you and the big bouncer man here to back me up.”

  “At your service, Ma’am,” Nathan said in his best Southern drawl. “Always glad to help a lady.”

  Joe laughed and walked away as another customer flagged her down.

  “You know, I ran into her earlier today,” Nathan began.

  “Who?” Vincent asked, never taking his eyes off of Joe.

  “Blondie.”

  “I heard. She said you had, and I quote, ‘a weird sense of humour’.”

  “She was walking down Broadway trying to find a store to pick up some stuff. Gave her the guided tour of the Farmer’s Market,” Nathan answered between sips of his beer. “What’s her story?”

  “What do you mean?” Vincent frowned. Was Nathan interested in Joe? Damn, that would be inconvenient. Well, on second thought, maybe not. Vincent remembered a time when the two of them had shared a girlfriend. She had been a hot little brunette who later moved to Las Vegas. Before she had left, though, the three of them had enjoyed some wild and very fulfilling evenings.

  Girlfriend? Now why would I put Joe in that category?

  “I mean, why is she here? She’s smart, pretty, quick on her feet. So why isn’t she doing something else besides bartending?” Nathan asked.

  “She grew up in a bar. Parents owned one up in Springfield,” Vincent answered honestly. “Besides, nothing wrong with bartending as a career.”

  “True, but something about her just doesn’t seem right.” Nathan held up a hand when Vincent would have interrupted him. “Not in a ‘she’s demented and gonna gun everyone down’ way, but it’s more like she’s carrying a heavy burden. One that might crush her someday if she isn’t careful.”

  Vincent thought a moment and had to agree with his friend.

  “Does she have an ex-husband?”

  “Not that I know of,” Vincent said, suddenly worried. “Why?”

  “Probably nothing,” Nathan shrugged and polished off the last of his beer.

  “Nope. Can’t do that. Can’t say something like that then not follow through,” Vincent reminded him.

  “You remember Mary Sue Novack?” Nathan asked cryptically.

  “Mary Sue?” Vincent racked his brain for a while then finally remembered. Mary Sue was a pretty little girl who had grown up in their neighbourhood. She was always perfectly dressed, hair always in place, went to Mass every day. When she was sixteen, though, the whole neighbourhood had awakened to sounds of sirens as an ambulance and police car pulled up outside of her home. Apparently, Mr. Novack had been beating both Mary Sue and her mother for years, just not where anyone could see the bruises. That night, the ambulance carried away the body of Mrs. Novack and a battered teenage girl while the police car delivered Mr. Novack to a prison cell. Mrs. Novack’s sister had moved into the house to care for Mary Sue, but the poor girl had never been the same.

  “Yeah, I remember. Didn’t she commit suicide a few years back?” Vincent answered.

  “That’s what I heard,” Nathan agreed.

  “So, what does she have to do with Joe?” Vincent asked, already suspecting the answer.

  “Now, Blondie’s only been here, what? Two days? So I could be way off. But I’ve seen her jerk away from folks a few times, almost like she’s afraid a left hook is aimed for her,” Nathan explained.

  Vincent nodded. He’d noticed that, too. He gripped his empty beer bottle. No one, ever, had the right to abuse anyone, at least not in his mind. Catching Joe’s friendly gaze, he nodded and smiled but resolved to keep a close eye on her and protect her if necessary.

  “Got your back on this one, Vince,” Nathan assured him.

  Some of the tension drained from Vincent. He knew he could count on Nathan for anything.

  Chapter Four

  Ladies’ Nightini

  1 part gin

  1 part vodka

  1 dash vermouth

  Garnish with lemon slice

/>   “Vince, I need to ask you for a favour,” Joe said a few weeks later.

  “’Course. What’s on your mind?” Vince answered. You want my body? You want me to bend you over that bar right now and fuck your brains out? Or would your rather I slowly strip your clothes off that luscious body, lick your nipples until you scream then make love to you for the next two hours? Vince shook himself slightly, trying to focus on Joe’s concerned frown.

  “You okay?”

  “Yep. Just a little distracted,” he assured her. Boy, am I! Joe had worked for him for three weeks now, and with each passing day, Vince became more and more fascinated by her. Her quick, efficient movements entranced him. Her easy smile and hearty laugh reflected an open-minded and friendly personality. Vince couldn’t be more infatuated than if he’d still been in high school and Suzy Jones, the head cheerleader, had smiled at him.

  “Okay, well…” She rubbed her hands on her jeans in a gesture that he now recognised as nervousness. “I know we agreed that my living upstairs was just a trial, but I just talked with Renee and, well…”

  Vincent’s heart contracted just a bit. He had completely forgotten that Joe’s living arrangement was temporary. Somehow, her staying so close to the bar—and to him—gave him great comfort.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “Well, kind of. Renee just got a notice that she has to move out for a few weeks while the landlords remodel the apartment complex. She forgot to tell me about it, so she’s had to rescind her offer. So…” Joe glanced quickly at Vince’s face before focusing on a spot somewhere over his left shoulder. “Would it be cool if, until I get on my feet, I just stayed and paid rent?”

  Vince grinned. God bless landlords who remodelled. “I don’t think that will pose too much of a problem at all. Actually, I kind of like knowing you’re living there,” he admitted.

  “Really? Why is that?” She leaned her elbows on the bar.