Bad Roommate: Never Room With A Player
Page 14
Guessing the skillet was heated up well enough, I poured a little of the mixture in the pan and waited on my test pancake to cook. It seemed to turn out decently enough so I poured enough for several more pancakes. I was nearly done with the batch when I heard her stirring in the bedroom. Moments later, she appeared with an oversized t-shirt on that I guess may have belonged to an ex, with her brown hair dishevelled and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Good morning Sonya, baby. How was your sleep?” I greeted with a smile on my face as I scooped up the last of the pancakes, placing them on the platter with the rest.
“Excuse me?” She went from barely functional to fully awake in an instant.
“Oh.” I looked down at the pancakes and cringed. “I’m sorry. I took the liberty of making us breakfast. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“No, I mean.” Her eyes narrowed and she stalked towards me as if I were prey. “What did you just call me?”
“Baby? Is that a problem? I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No.” Her dark eyes flashed with annoyance. “I mean my name. What did you call me?”
Grimacing, I looked back at the mail. It did indeed say Sonya. “I’m confused.”
“My name is Becky. NOT Sonya.”
“Ahhh.” My brow creased. “I…”
“You don’t even know my fucking name!”
“Wait.” Placed the spatula on the countertop, I put my hands up in surrender and slowly backed away as she stalked closer to me. “I’m genuinely confused.”
“What do I do for a living, Xander?” She grabbed the spatula I’d just set down, waving it at me. Not sure what she planned on doing with that spatula, but I suspected that getting kinky in the bedroom wasn’t it.
“I…” I had no fucking idea. It was worse than the name situation. Backing up a little more, I made my way to the door and my shoes.
“Get the fuck out of my house, Xander!”
“Whoa, wait. Just… I’m not great with details and in my defense we just met last night. It’s not like we did much talking.”
That’s when the spatula came sailing at my head. Her aim was terrible, not even coming close to hitting me. “Get out!”
“But I made you good morning blueberry pancakes. That should account for something, shouldn’t it?” Granted I made them because I was hungry, she’d been an afterthought. I protested, putting on my sneakers as quickly as possible not expecting that argument to sway her.
“If you don’t get out of my house, I’ll shove those pancakes up your ass!”
“Fine. Okay.” Grabbing the door handle, I opened the door and started to leave but hesitated a moment. “One question?”
She stood perhaps ten feet from the door, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared at me. “What?”
“Who’s Sonya?” The moment I noticed her go for another kitchen utensil I knew I’d overstayed my welcome and there was no coming back from the fuckfest I’d just made of the morning. Ducking out the door, I closed it behind me and sighed a breath of relief as I leaned back against it. Lesson learned, don’t assume a woman’s mail is hers.
Pushing myself off the door, I made my way down the stairs and into the parking lot. Visitor parking was way the fuck at the back of the parking lot, so it took me several minutes to finally get to my Jeep. My black 4-door Jeep Wrangler was my pride and joy, fully customized to my likings. I’d saved and bought it in cash, but now I had bigger fish to fry. I was now saving for my dream, it’s just that my dream was much more expensive than a Jeep. Which is why I worked two jobs. The beauty of Las Vegas was that there was always employment to be had if you were willing to work hard.
Getting into the Jeep, I pulled the keys from my jeans pocket and thrust them into the ignition, bringing the vehicle to life. My stomach grumbled as I backed the Jeep out of the parking spot and flashes of the pancakes came to my mind. Damn they would have been good.
No matter. I’d go home. Get some food. Maybe a nap. Shower and then off to job number one for the evening.
~*~ TT ~*~
Shawn’s brewery and bar was nice and peaceful compared to the strip club. It was busy, don’t get me wrong on that, it featured beer from all over the world and was actually a destination spot for Las Vegas tourists, most of which were happy to be here and tipped well for their drinks. But what set it apart was the fact there weren’t masses of screaming, plastered women trying to catch a feel of whatever body part came within reach.
Having been to a man’s strip club and then working for a woman’s club, I can tell you right now that women were by far the rowdier of the two sexes. While men generally kept their hands to themselves knowing the rules and knowing if they did get to hands on that they’d get their asses kicked by security; on the flip side women touched, grabbed and caressed every part they could. There wasn’t a night that went by that I didn’t get my junk groped at least five times a night.
But I digress… It was part of the job. And the job paid well so I wasn’t about to complain too much about it. Besides, it was all a means to an end. That was all.
“I really wish you could stay later tonight Xander,” my boss and owner of the bar said, filling up several glasses with the newly released brew. “We’re getting slammed.”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I’ve got to perform tonight. Saturday night’s are insane and the boss has a big party coming in.”
“And the money is better.”
A smile touched my lips as heat lightly colored my cheeks. “That too. You know I have a plan and I’m getting closer by the day. With any luck I’ll have enough money saved to start my own brewery very soon. It’ll be small, but it’ll be mine.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come here. Work with me for five years and then leave with all the brewing knowledge that I’ve bestowed upon you, my young grasshopper, to become my competition.” He shook his head and scowled, but I knew he was just joking. We'd become great friends over the years, and he rooted for me almost as much as I was rooting for myself.
“I’ll give you a healthy discount on the beer I produce.”
“Boy, thanks. I appreciate that.” Shawn said dryly, turning from me and serving the glasses to the customers waiting for them.
“Anything else I can get ya?” I asked, sliding the glass of beer I’d poured across the bar to the pretty young woman on the other side. Her dark eyes looked down and then back up, and she batted her lashes at me. “Maybe I can see you tonight? After you get off work?”
Chuckling, I leaned forward catching her gaze. “I don’t get off for a while.”
“I’m patient.” She slipped a long black lock over her shoulder.
“Well, if you really want to see me after I’m done here...” Straightening, I reached in my back pocket and pulled out a business card for the club, Moist, that I stripped at. “You can head on over to the club I work at. When you’ve got your fill with the brew here. The brew here is far superior to the generic shit they serve there. Though they do have a few craft brews in now, I think.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re a stripper?”
Taking another step back, I motioned to my body clad in a pair of jeans and a tight fitting, black ribbed t-shirt and winked. “Exotic dancer, baby. Gotta get it right.”
“When do you go on? Tonight?”
I nodded. “Show’s at 9pm and 11pm.” Wagging a finger at her I added, “Better see you and your friends there.”
She nodded. “You sure will.”
“Pouching my customers as well,” Shawn joked.
“I’ll send them on back after the show with all their friends.” Giving my boss and friend a slap on the back, I added, “Now I have to run. I’ll try to get back to help out before closing.” The bar and club were only a couple blocks from each other so when I hurried, I could sometimes help out for an hour or two before we shut the brewery down for the night.
Terry Towers
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