by Nicole Fox
Okay, I did care a little. But only because having a little hottie like her behind the bar might bring in some customers.
She said nothing, her mouth a flat line.
“You can talk now,” I said.
She shot out of her chair and threw her arms around me, her heavy breasts pressing against my chest.
“Yes!” she said, letting me go. “I’ll do it!”
“You heard the part about you not playing here, right?” I said.
“I mean, that sucks, but I think working here will be just as good. Maybe I can make some connections with some of the other venue owners in the area or something.”
Right then I thought of Buck from Boozehounds down the road getting his claws into her. Buck, I knew, wasn’t the kind of guy who’d have any compunction against a quid-pro-quo. Hell, he’d probably make any girl who wanted to work there suck his dick just for him to take a look at her résumé.
“Good attitude,” I said. “Now, I’ve got shitloads of work to do, so you’re gonna need to scram. Grab another drink at the bar if you want; tell ’em it’s on me. And come back tomorrow at five for your first shift. We’ll see what you’ve got then.”
Roxy let out a little squeal before turning on her heels and leaving the office, my eyes locked onto her ass as she disappeared back into the hallway.
Once she was gone, I headed over to my private stash and poured myself a couple fingers of some of the good scotch. Taking a sip, I looked out onto the city and wondered just what I’d gotten myself into. I realized, to my chagrin, that my last chance to fuck Roxy had vanished as soon as she’d left the office.
Now that she was an employee here, there was no way I could do anything to her without opening myself up to all kinds of lawsuits. I found myself wondering if I should’ve taken her up on her offer, if only to break the inevitable sexual tension before it had a chance to start.
What was going to happen next, I had no idea. As I sipped my whiskey, however, I was sure that it was going to be fun as fuck to find out.
Chapter 9
Roxy
Leaving Amped, I was thrilled and mortified and nervous all at the same time. I still couldn’t believe that I’d really offered myself to Zane. For a second there, as he loomed over me, I was certain that in five more seconds I’d have his cock in my mouth.
And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the idea didn’t seem all that bad. I could just tell he had a huge prick; guys with that kind of cocky swagger always seemed to be packing. When I plopped back into my car and took a deep breath, I realized that I was more than a little turned on by the whole thing.
There was, however, the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to play on stage. I was a little pissed off and frustrated, but I could see how Zane might want to make it clear that what I’d offered wasn’t going to fly there. Amped was a biker and rock bar, sure, but it seemed like Zane liked to run a right ship there, to keep the place a cut above the rest.
I pulled my car out onto the city streets and started home. As I drove, I realized the important thing was that I had a job—nothing else mattered, not even band concerns. Once I’d gotten my source of income squared away I could start thinking about how to make Vampire Hideaway the talk of the town. And Amped would be the perfect place to make the connections I’d need.
The next evening arrived and I was back at Amped and ready to start. The bartender from last night was behind the bar, setting up for the night ahead.
“Yo,” he said, giving me a professional nod.
“Hey,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed.
The place wasn’t open yet, so the only people there were me and a pair of bartenders, along with a couple of barbacks and one young-looking guy sweeping up the place and getting the chairs in order.
“Name’s Jess,” said the bartender. “And that’s Mai.”
He gestured towards the other bartender, a mean-looking but pretty redhead with a handful of piercings in her face and arms covered in complex sleeve tattoos. She gave me a blasé nod before returning to her set-up duties.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Roxy.”
I took a quick look around the place.
“So, um,” I said. “Is Zane here?”
“Why?” asked Mia, her voice sharp. “You want to fuck him or something?”
My eyes went wide and the color drained from my face. Did she know about my offer to Zane last night? Was it my first night and I already had the reputation as the bar whore?
“Jesus, Mia,” said Jess. “Cut the girl some fucking slack. Probably just wants to know if the big man’s going to breathing down her fucking neck or not.”
“Whatever,” said Mia as she polished her bottles in the rack.
I let out a small breath of relief. That likely meant that they didn’t know. Hopefully they weren’t going to find out.
“What about them?” I said, pointing to the barbacks who darted here and there, cleaning and getting things organized.
“They’re just barbacks,” said Mia. “They don’t get names yet.”
“Mia,” said Jess, shaking his head. “Have I told you recently how much of a bitch you are?”
“You love it,” she said, flashing him a smirk.
“Here’s the deal,” said Jess, turning his attention back to me. “I’m gonna assume that you at least kind of know what you’re doing, right?”
“For the most part.”
“For the most part,” said Jess. “Not sure what that means, but I guess I’ll know by the end of the night. Now, you’re gonna shadow me tonight. That means stay nearby, but not so near you’re in the way. I’ll have you doing beer pulls and simple drinks, and if you can handle that, then I’ll move you up to the more complicated stuff. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said, feeling ready and nervous all at once.
“Good. And to answer your question, Zane’s not in yet. He’s got some meeting with his MC right now. He’ll probably be in later. But he’s a hands-off kind of manager—lets us do our jobs without micromanaging and shit. We all like it better that way.”
“Got it,” I said again.
“Now, let’s get started.”
Jess put me to work hauling inventory up from the basement, the next hour passing by. Soon, we were open for business, the first trickles of customers entering through the double doors. They were regulars, mostly, taking their seats in what looked like their usual spots and saying “hi” to the bartenders by name.
I was a little nervous, worried about making a good first impression. My priority at that moment was just to stay out of the way and help when I could. Jess and Mia chatted with the regulars, taking breaks only to bark orders for refills to me. I bristled a little at being told what to do, but I knew this was just part of the job—wasn’t the first time I’d been on the low part of the totem pole.
Just when I started to find my groove, however, the place started to fill up. I couldn’t believe how busy it got so quickly. It seemed like one minute it was just me, the staff, and some regulars, then the next the place was full of patrons, all of them crowing around the bar and yelling out drink orders. I cast a glance towards the stage and saw that a band was starting to set up.
“Now’s the fun part!” yelled Jess over the increasingly loud din of the crowd. “Let’s see what you got, kid!”
The next couple of hours passed in a wild blur of frenzied bartending. I whipped around here and there, making drinks as quickly as I could, staying close to Jess and not getting in the way, just like he’d asked. After a time, the typical scene of controlled chaos that I’d known from my other bartending gigs settled in, and I found my groove.
That didn’t last, however.
“Two stouts for the guys down at the end!” shouted Jess over the blare of the music and the din of the crowd.
“Got it!” I responded.
Then I whipped around on my heels and launched towards the beer taps.
Or, at least, that’s that what I�
��d hoped to do. Instead, I collided at full speed with Mia, who’d been in the process of carrying a pair of whiskey bottles up from inventory. As soon as I slammed into her, she let out a surprised cry, the bottles dropping from her grip and landing onto the ground with a shrill crash.
The sound cut through the other sounds of the bar, and the attention of everyone nearby turned towards me. And in front of them all was Mia, her eyes burning with frustration.
All I could do was squeak out a single word.
“Sorry.”
I sounded like a little mouse. But what else could I do? At my feet were the shattered remains of the bottles, the sticky-sweet smell of cheap whiskey rising up all around me.
“I swear to fucking shit, newb,” said Mia, looking like she wanted to strangle me on the spot.
Out of the corner of my eye, Jess shoved a mop and a broom in front of me. I didn’t need to wait for instructions. I got to clean up, and soon had the mess mostly taken care of. Just when I thought I’d gotten away with my first major screw-up of my career at Amped, I glanced up to see none other than Zane standing in front of me.
“Looks like your first night here is going smashing.”
He wore a pleased little smirk on his face, making it clear he was very proud of his pun.
“Cute,” I said, dumping the last shards of glass into the white bucket where we kept such things.
“Don’t worry—I won’t be taking it out of your pay. I factor in a little budget for newbie fuck-ups during the first week or so.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I hated to admit it, but I was getting distracted by him standing in front of me like that. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans, his shirt a simple but stylish white button-up rolled at the sleeves. The top couple of buttons were undone, showing off a hint of both his chest tattoos and the sculpted pecs they adorned.
And he radiated authority. Zane was clearly the sort of man who was more than comfortable being in charge.
“I won’t do it again,” I said. “Just got a little overwhelmed, is all.”
“You’d fucking better not,” said Mia as she zipped past me, another pair of whiskey bottles in her hands.
“Don’t worry about her,” said Zane. “Surly’s kind of her thing.”
Jess, in the process of pouring a few shots, chimed in.
“That’s right,” he said. “Believe it or not, there’re plenty of regulars who really go in for the ‘total bitch’ routine. Like the bar version of those guys who pay women to pour hot wax onto them.”
I smirked, the feeling of having caused a total disaster now fading away.
“Get back to it, rook,” said Zane as he turned his body to leave. “I’m expecting big things out of you.”
Jess gave me a knowing look, as if to say: “I hope you heard that.”
My heart jumped a little with some kind of feeling that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then Zane was gone, and we were all right back to it.
The rest of the night went more smoothly, and soon it was time to clean up and get out of there. By the time 2:00 a.m. rolled around, I was ready to get home and collapse into a deep sleep, which was exactly what I did.
My next shift was Monday, and I walked into it prepared to kick as much ass as possible.
“So, newb,” said Jess as he and I set up the bar for the night ahead. “You’re in a band, I hear?”
My ears perked up.
“How did you know that?” I asked.
“Overheard Zane say something.”
Now my curiosity was totally piqued.
“What, um, did he say, exactly?” I asked, not wanting to give away just how eager I was to hear what Zane had been saying about me when I wasn’t around.
Had he listened to my band?
“He said what I just told you, that you were new, and that you played in some band around town. Didn’t catch the name, though.”
“Vampire Hideaway,” I said. “We’re pretty fucking awesome.”
“Nice,” said Jess, “I’m in a band around here too. We’re called the Maulers. Kind of a thrash-metal, Melvins’ kind of thing.”
“Oh, cool.”
Now the real question on my mind was whether or not Zane had refused to listen to Jess’s band.
“Mia’s in one, too. They’re called the ‘Raging Bitches Who Need A Fucking Attitude Adjustment’ or something.”
“Fuck off, Jess,” said Mia from the other end of the bar.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Has Zane heard your guy’s stuff?”
Jess gave me a curious look, as though he wasn’t quite sure what I meant.
“You mean like listen to our music?” he asked. “Sure.”
Then he picked up that I was hiding something.
“Oh, he won’t listen to your stuff, right?”
I perked up.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I said. “I tried to get him to check my band out when he hired me but he wouldn’t go for it.”
“Hmm,” said Jess, leaning against the bar as he polished a line of bottles. “Zane’s really particular about what kind of music he listens to.”
“Maybe he’s just worried you’re gonna suck shit,” said Mia over her shoulder. “And doesn’t want to have to lie to you.”
I wanted to tell Mia to screw off, but didn’t feel like I had the authority to say something like that. There was a good chance she’d smash me under her foot if I tried to throw some sass back her way.
“Maybe he’ll just need some time to get to know you,” said Jess. “He likes to keep people at arm’s length until he’s sure of what kind of person you are. Hell, it took me six months of working here before he had a drink with me outside of work.”
Mia didn’t say anything, a small smirk appearing on her face. I couldn’t help but wonder if she and Zane had fucked, and felt a little envious at the idea of it.
But more than that, I wondered if after my little offer when Zane hired me, he felt like he’d already figured me out as much as he needed to. After all, he had told me that he wasn’t interested in having a “girl like me” play onstage here.
The idea lingered in my head as I finished setting up.
This night went much more smoothly than my first one. Though the place was surprisingly busy for a Monday—I chalked that up to the popularity of the bar—I managed to get through the evening without breaking anything or pissing Mia off – though I could spot her eyeing me every now and then, as if she thought that taking her glance off of me for even a moment would mean that I’d instantly screw something up.
But nope—all went well. I’d even managed to get chatty with some of the regulars. By the time the evening was over, I was feeling pretty good about things. There was only the matter of getting Zane to finally listen to my bad to worry about.
The next week flew by so quickly that I couldn’t believe it. My days were packed with work and band practice, and I barely had a moment to myself. However, I was finally starting to make money from the gig at Amped—before too long I’d have enough to start looking for a room to rent.
And I’d been fitting in more and more at work. Jess was easy to get along with—a little gruff, but that was part of his charm. Mia, on the other hand, was a tougher nut to crack. But I stuck with it, making sure to stay out of her way when she was in one of her moods, which was often. After a few more shifts, she started to warm up to me, which I couldn’t believe.
I’d been getting in good with the regulars, too. They all knew my name, and I loved chatting with them and hearing about their interesting lives here in the city.
Zane, on the other hand, was another matter altogether. He was a fixture of the place, of course, but like Jess had said, he was very hands-off. Only occasionally did he jump behind the bar, and that was only to help us out when we got slammed. Other than that, he stayed in the back taking care of the numbers, coming out every now and then to have a beer with the other guys in his motorcycle club.
&nbs
p; I wanted him to listen to my band more than anything. But how to convince him?
Then, during my shift ten days after I started, I had an idea.
“A petition?” asked Jess as he poured a beer for Lenny, a hefty older guy with a big gray beard who was one of our regulars. “What, like you’re running for Congress or something?”
“Kind of,” I said. “I’m thinking that if he sees that the clientele is with me, then he’ll be more inclined to listen to my band. And if he does, I’m sure he’ll love it. I mean, you checked us out, right?”
