“I’ll take a dirty martini, extra dirty and get her a vodka cranberry, not top shelf, but none of the like, super cheap stuff. Go somewhere in the middle. Tell Lucian the drink is from Jen squared, because we’re both Jens.” She giggles.
“Emphasize we do everything together. Like, everything!” She winks and I don’t understand why. “And if he asks, please tell him where we’re sitting and tell him that we’re super hot.”
I write everything down because I don’t have a clue what any of it means. Then I rush over to the bar area for servers. I try to scroll down on the menu to find whiskey that’s under twenty dollars. I hit a button and the screen freezes. Glancing right and left to look for Patti, I realize there are no other servers in sight. I hit escape over and over on the screen and nothing happens. Chewing my lip, I wish hitting escape would teleport me far away. I wonder if I could hide under a table for the rest of the night. No. I can’t let Patti down again. One of the bartenders walks in my direction, so I yell out.
“Excuse me, sir?” I wave at him to try to get his attention.
“Sir?” He laughs. “You can call me Julian.”
“Julian, could you please help me?”
He scoops ice into a glass and adds a couple of different liquors to it. “You’re the new girl, huh?”
I nod.
“What do you need?”
I read him my notes. “Jen times two wants to send a cup of whiskey that costs under twenty dollars to Mr. Kane. And then they want a martini that is extra unclean and a vodka that’s somewhere in the middle of the shelf with cranberries in it. Does that make any sense to you?”
He looks slightly amused and confused at the same time. Julian wipes his hands on his pants, takes my pad from me, and reads it to himself.
He starts making drinks and placing them in front of me. When there are three glasses in front of me, he leans toward me and turns the monitor slightly so we can both see. He asks what the table number is, and proceeds to show me how to find the items and enter the prices.
I’m so thankful I want to hug him, but I’m awkward and he’s a boy, so I don’t. “Can those girls take him the drink they bought?”
“Nope. You’ll need to. We don’t need anyone slipping anything into his alcohol.”
“But Nadia said to leave him alone.”
“I wish I could help you more, but right now, I’m swamped. Just take it to him. It’ll be fine. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“But I don’t know where he is.”
He points to a staircase. “Take those and then turn left. He’s all the way in the back corner.”
Before I can open my mouth to emphasize how I was told to stay away from him, Julian is already on the other side of the bar talking to someone else. I place all three drinks on the tray and head back over to Jen times two. I have to hold the tray with two hands and it’s awkward. I end up carrying it at waist level rather than up high like Patti. How in the world does she do that?
I place the tray on the table and take one drink off. I remember the girl in blue got the cranberry, but I have no idea which is the whiskey.
“So you can buy him a drink, but I have to take it to him for you.”
The girl in red lifts her dirty drink off the tray and I’m thankful I now know which one is the whiskey.
“I figured. Tell us everything he says!”
As I reach the staircase, I wonder if I can just carry his drink in my hand. This tray is huge. Then, I remember that I’m already on his naughty list, so I decide I’d better try to look professional this time.
Don’t be an idiot. Don’t be an idiot. I repeat it over and over in my mind as I climb the stairs. Once I reach the top, I look left and see him sitting at a corner table with the same guy as before. They’re both looking at some papers.
Centering the drink on the tray, I lift it up toward my head and try to hold it steady as I approach him. He’s not looking at me, so it gives me a minute to study him. I think Julian is wrong. He seems like his bite would be nasty.
I take deep breaths as I tread in dread toward him. In and out quick. I can do this.
Lucian and his friend glance up at me as I stand in front of their table.
“Hi, again. I’m sorry to bother you, but these girls named Jen bought you a drink and Julian told me I had to bring it to you because everyone else is busy. And even though I know you must hate me and Nadia said stay far, far away, here I am. I said some awful things a few minutes ago and I apologize profusely. I really only know church music and I had no business judging any other genre. Clearly, I don’t understand.”
The tray wobbles in my hand as I speak. It’s very hard to keep it up that high, but I don’t want to give him the drink until he says it’s okay.
He stares at me and runs his fingers over his beard. He has four rings on his hand and bands around his wrist. I stare at his rings to avoid looking him in the eye. One of his rings is a cross. I wonder if he’s Catholic.
He’s very quiet, so I quickly glance at his face to gauge a reaction. He’s staring at me.
“Is that tray heavy?” he asks, pointing at it.
My hand shakes and the tray quivers. “Actually, at first, it’s just uncomfortable, but not so much heavy. After holding it up in the air like this for a few minutes, that all changes. It stays uncomfortable, but then it also starts to feel like you’re trying to balance an elephant while he tiptoes across a tightrope. There’s very little blood flow to my hand because the circulation to my wrist is cut off from being bent too far in one direction for too long. Honestly, it’s hard to talk and focus at the same time.” My hand feels numb and my anxiety spikes, so I blurt out, “Can I please give this to you?”
“I wish you would.”
Attempting to lower the tray gracefully, I end up tipping it to the side. I watch as everything seems to happen in slow motion. The glass slides to the far right, hitting the lip of the tray. As I try to rebalance it, it slides to the far left. I try to bring it down faster and realize the reason my hand feels numb is because my wrist is asleep. I can barely control it. My hand trembles and the glass travels to the far right again, hitting the lip once more just as I bring it toward him. Tilting ever so slightly, the liquid slowly drips out of the glass. Then out of nowhere, the glass seems to jump off the tray as if it’s skydiving. Liquid pours over the edge with a wave of regret. I gasp in horror as I watch it land all over his pants.
He jumps up from his seat. “What the hell?”
I grab the rag from my waist and fall to my knees in front of him, dabbing the zipper of his pants where most of the liquid resides.
“Oh Mylanta! I am so sorry! Let me see if I can soak it up. Please forgive me. Obviously I have no business trying to be a waitress. I stink like horse poop.”
I continue to dab my cloth on his zipper, trying to get the liquid off. He’s wearing black ripped jeans, so it’s hard to see if I’ve made things any better. The spot was soft at first, but it seems harder as I dab at it.
Staring at the wet mark it seems to grow before my eyes. A slight movement in his pants catches me off guard. I quickly realize what I’ve been touching. I gasp lightly and gaze up at him, afraid.
He’s smiling―grinning even. He starts to laugh and I’m mortified. I try to stand, but lose my balance. I fall backward in shock and he reaches out to catch me, but misses.
Staring at the ceiling, I’m certain I’m a vision to behold with my legs in the air. I’m going to cry.
I feel hands grip mine as I’m pulled upward to a sitting position.
“Are you alright?” he asks, bending down to my level.
His face is inches away from me and I suddenly can’t breathe. Is that glorious smell him? As his brown eyes search mine, I lose all sense of reason. Just like that, brown becomes my new favorite color. I think I need to pray. Hard.
Lucian
Her face is as white as her underwear. I make a mental note of them in my mind for later. Her lips tremble and
she winces before she looks behind her, to her left and right, then back at me. Is she afraid people saw her? Because they totally did.
“Let’s get you up off the floor.”
Pulling out a chair from my table, I help her stand then sit down. I slide my water glass toward her and she gulps it down. I crouch down next to her. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Are you?” she asks. “Mr. Kane, I am so very sorry. I feel awful for everything tonight. Please don’t be angry.”
“Angry? Why would I be angry? That might have been the best glass of whiskey I’ve had in my entire life, and I didn’t even drink it.”
I wink and she lowers her head. I see her lip curl shyly, and that small smile makes me feel like I won the lottery. “And please, call me Lucian.”
“Lucian.”
She whispers it in response and it comes out breathy and hot. I could listen to her say my name all night long. Her raspy voice is like dirty, sticky sex.
“You’re being too kind. Can I at least pay for your dry cleaning bill?”
“My jeans? Nah. I just throw them in the washer and they’re good as new. I’ve had far worse things dumped on me. Besides, they’re barely even wet. If they were, I stopped noticing the minute you started to dry me off.”
Her eyes bulge as if she forgot she wiped my dick. At first I thought her touch was deliberate. Looking at her on her knees in front of me turned me on. But now, as the last bit of color drains from her face, I think she truly had no idea what she was doing.
She leaps out of her seat. “Thank you for the water and for being so nice.”
She bends carefully to pick up the tray, pulling at her skirt hem once again. She hurries away, but after a few steps she stops, snaps her fingers, turns, and comes back toward me.
“I forgot. I need to tell you that the drink was paid for by two blond girls at my table.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a little notebook, flips a few pages, and then starts to read. “Jen squared wanted me to tell you they are hot and that they do everything together. The girl in red emphasized the word everything and winked at me. I feel like it was some secret sign, but I didn’t understand it.”
Tilting my head slightly, I purse my lips. Does she really not get what they were trying to say? Is she playing with me or is she that green? I stare at her for a second more as she scratches her cheek. It hits me like a bolt of lightning. She really doesn’t get it. I feel I need to enlighten her.
“For future reference, I believe they were implying that they’d both be willing to sleep with me at the same time.”
“Sleep?” she questions with an uncertain tone.
“Have sex.”
“Really?” Her face scrunches up tightly. “Why would they want to do that?” She seems shocked and I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.
I shrug. “I’m famous. I’m good looking. I have money. It happens all the time.”
“All the time, huh?” She grips the tray and her posture stiffens. Did she just roll her eyes at me? “What would you like me to tell them?”
The air shifts and she appears almost cold. Does she suddenly find me revolting? The realization flips some kind of switch inside me that I didn’t even know was there. If I admit I’m interested in them, will she want nothing to do with me? Why do I care what she thinks? What the fuck is up with this chick? And why is she under my skin?
“Tell them I’m flattered, I appreciate the drink, but no thank you. I’m more into brunettes.” I wink at her. That should solidify things.
Lowering her head, she briefly gazes at me out of the top of her eyes, sighs, and then walks away.
I’ve never flirted and fallen so flat before. What the hell? Is she somehow immune to my charms? Worse yet, is it possible she’s not attracted to me?
“What a shit-show!” Dave exclaims. “I’d let her go.”
I follow her movement with my eyes until she’s out of sight.
Dave elbows me. “Hey, don’t you at least want to see what those girls look like before you say no? Two Jens? Sounds like the perfect night you were hoping for.”
I scratch my head. Why didn’t Blaire fall all over me? Look at me. I know I’m good looking. I huff inside my head. I always get what I want. Do I want her? Nah. She’s not all that. What was I thinking saying no to two blondes? That’s not like me. Fuck it.
“You’re right. I should check them out at a minimum. I think the long drive gave me brain fog. I’m going to splash some water on my face and wander over there. You’ll stay here?”
“Wouldn’t dream of leaving your whiskey unattended. I know the drill.”
I hop down the stairs and turn toward the kitchen. The bathrooms are in the same area. As I walk past the swinging kitchen doors, I overhear a conversation that causes me to stop in my tracks.
“You did not! You dumped it on his crotch?”
“And then I tried to clean him up. Lucian Kane two, Blaire Barton, zero.”
I step out of their line of sight to eavesdrop.
“You touched his dick?”
“No. I mean. Holy Moses, did I? I hope I didn’t. I mean, well, I guess I wouldn’t really know if I had.”
“What do you mean you wouldn’t know?”
“Oh Patti, this is so embarrassing. I’ve never told anyone, but you have a kind soul. I feel it. And if I don’t get this off my chest, I think I’ll burst!”
By all means, get it off your chest, Blaire.
“Please don’t mention this to anyone. It’s embarrassing enough telling you.”
I lean my head against the wall and wish the bar would shut up. I’m already straining to hear and it’s too damn loud. I stick a finger in one ear, hoping to drown out the crowd.
“Who am I going to tell?” Patti asks.
There’s a huge pause in the conversation. I’m afraid I missed the secret.
She clears her throat. “I’ve never touched a man before. I’ve really never even kissed one.”
Did I hear that correctly?
Patti gasps. “Touched a man? Like his yogurt shooter?”
“Huh?”
“His vagina miner?”
“What?”
“His dick. Have you not touched a dick?”
“Patti, I’ve never touched anything.”
“Blaire! Are you a virgin?”
“Shh…” she hushes.
I lean my cheek against the wall. Is it hot in here?
“Oh fuck, Blaire. Whatever you do, don’t let him or any of the guys here know that. Men love a challenge and if anyone finds out, you’ll be beating them all off with a stick.”
“No. Trust me. Men don’t find me attractive. I mean, look at me. Lucian Kane would never be into a girl like me.”
“Um, I’m sorry but when was the last time you looked in a mirror? You’re gorgeous.”
She doesn’t respond and in my mind, I imagine her shy smile. Patti’s right. She’s stunning. Does she want me to be into her? Maybe she does like me after all.
“Anyway, I’ve never told a soul that before. I guess if I’m making a confession, there’s no better place than a church, right?”
“Your secret is safe with me. Let’s talk about it more later at my place. You’re still staying with me tonight, right?”
“Yes. I have nowhere else to go.”
I’ve heard enough. It’s time to leave before I get caught. There’s an extra pep in my step as I enter the men’s bathroom. Leaning forward at the sink, I stare at myself in the mirror.
I review what I know. She’s a virgin. I stare upward toward the heavens and whisper a small thank you as I laugh.
She’s a good girl who doesn’t understand sexual innuendo because she’s never experienced it. That means all my lines and ploys would be new to her. I probably wouldn’t even have to try very hard at all. I might have to be more direct, but I can do that.
I turn and lean against the sink, folding my arms over my chest. She has nowhere to go, which must mean she doesn�
��t live around here. She obviously has no waitressing experience and she’s here, so she must be desperate for a job. If I hang around town, I could work my magic in two, maybe three days. I almost get hard just thinking about it.
She doesn’t think I’d be interested in her. That must mean she wants me to like her. Shit, she’s just shy and innocent. She probably didn’t know I was flirting. I should have known better. Of course she wants me.
Patti was right. We men do love a good challenge. I thought she was juicy before, but now she’s like an untouched steak on a platter begging for my own special sauce.
Twisting back toward the mirror once more, I turn on the faucet and splash some water on my face. I grab a paper towel and dry myself off. Two Jens are boring compared to this. I don’t think I’ve ever had a virgin before. Would it be wrong of me to take her virginity so easily and walk away?
A sinister grin spreads across my face like the devil that I am.
Someone has to do it, why not me? Sure, I might ruin the chances of every man after me. They’ll never compare. But why not start with the best? She deserves to know what she’s been missing.
Opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom, I almost run into her. She gasps and hurries away without saying a word. I stare at her perfect, untouched thighs. Oh, beautiful, innocent Blaire. You won’t even see me coming, but I most definitely will come. All over you.
Blaire
It’s almost three a.m. when the bar finally closes for the night. Somehow, I managed to make it through the rest of the evening without spilling anything on anyone or embarrassing myself any further.
As I’m waiting for Patti near the back door, Nadia enters the kitchen. She glances from left to right and when she sees me, she makes such direct, probing eye contact, my body goes rigid. She reaches into her pocket and starts counting cash as she approaches me.
“Here’s fifty bucks. You can keep your tips if you got any. Leave your name badge by the back door on your way out and turn in your uniform. We won’t be needing your services any longer.”
My Night with a Rockstar Page 11