Finally I have a chance to stroll through the main dining room and greet guests, see how they're doing, and make sure everything is running smoothly.
“Oh, it’s delicious!” “Wonderful!” “Incredible!” “And I love these little spoons!” These are some of the raving compliments I hear as I walk from table to table.
Across the crowded room I catch a glimpse of Jeremy Cocker, and pause. He's got the shaker in his hand, rapidly pumping it in the air while he grins at a female guest whose face I can't see. He leans to the side and suddenly a bottle goes flying. He catches it and starts making a drink with one hand while he pours the cocktail from the shaker into a separate glass, with his other. He looks so comfortable that I’m blown away.
He glances over to me, catches me staring, and his smile falters.
But as quickly as we locked eyes he's back to doing his job.
Now I'm curious.
I start making my way to Jeremy. He keeps glancing over and holding my look. He knows I'm coming. His showmanship increases. Cathy is glancing over with jealousy. Lana is at the service station. Since she wasn't here last night, I walk behind the bar and decide to pass by Jeremy and Cathy to see how Lana’s doing.
It's a great excuse to spy with.
But when I’m right behind Jeremy he turns around, zips by my body with one arm, grabs a bottle, meets my eyes and says, "Hey there." He tosses the bottle in the air and continues making the cocktail.
That took my breath away, like a bolt of lightning whisked by my side. I step back and watch Jeremy work, forgetting all about Lana.
Crossing my arms in amazement I stare as he makes drink after drink without breaking a sweat, smiling and talking with the guests as easily as if he's known them his whole life.
He charms everyone, even the men. They love the tricks, and his drinks seem to be the best there is. “The perfect balance,” I hear a man mumble on his way to a table. I think he came to have Jeremy make his drink, rather than Lana, who’s doing all of the floor server’s orders tonight.
The women—the way they look at Jeremy—they may as well strip their bras off and toss them at his head.
Bryan appears on the other side of the counter, eyes darting from Jeremy to me. He motions for me to join him, and the two of us walk into the dining room together. "Do you like that boy?" he asks.
Instinct screams that I'm in trouble.
Bryan is considered the best in his field at this very moment. The star of Atlanta. He’s flying on a magic carpet.
And there is Jeremy, also skilled. I was watching for too long because I’d never seen anything like it.
But witnessing Bryan Marchand cook ten entrees at once with every one leaving the kitchen at the perfect temp and so amazing you eat past full? That impresses me far more and I want him to know it. Besides, if I bruise his ego I will be on the street, my reputation shot. He is not the type of person to let you go without burning the bridge behind you and smiling as he snuffs out the match.
“I think you misunderstood my watching him, Bryan,” I smile as I touch his arm. “I wasn’t in awe of him. I was in awe of you, thinking how impressed I was with how smart you are. Jeremy’s skills make Le Marchand even better because who else has those tricks? And did you see how the women stared? It’s why you hired Mira, because of her looks. He's a perfect replacement for that nerdy little boy. I know I told you it was a bad move to add Jeremy to your roster, but now it’s confirmed once again that you’re a genius.”
Holy shit, I can really pile it on thick, huh?
Bryan's smile returns, now with pride behind it. His suspicion has vanished. Right out here in front of the entire dining room he touches the small of my back, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "You like your men older don't you?"
Happily surprised by the public display of affection I whisper back, ”Boys don’t know what they’re doing. So boring.”
He laughs and turns to introduce himself to a table of four. They recognize his famous face in an instant. I stand beside him. But then as the conversation continues and I’m not introduced or addressed, I grow increasingly more awkward. I pull my phone out like I got a text message and start typing away to nobody, quickly exiting the area.
At the server’s end of the bar, our voluptuous, raven-haired Lana has drinks lined up in neat rows for the waitstaff. She’s just as attractive as Mira but not nearly as dim. This one is as smart as I am.
"Looks like you found a system.”
She throws me a distracted smile. "I had to. It's a mob scene!"
"How are things going with the new guy? He causing you any trouble?"
As she uncaps two beer bottles she shakes her head. "Who, Jeremy? He’s awesome! Cathy and I were telling him we hope he gets the weekend shifts with us so he can handle the ladies while we focus on the men." She gives me a look that's all business. “Tips tips tips.”
I have nothing else to say. I think I'm just hoping for her to give me more information about him. "You don't think he's obnoxious?"
She glances to Jeremy, her long hair cascading around her shoulders in the process. She whips around to face me again and it does the exact same thing. "I don’t know, Meagan, I like that he's a little obnoxious. Show me a meek man and I'll show you a guy who’s bad in bed. You've heard about the Cocker boys right?" She chuckles in a sexy way, grabbing a bottle of our best red and setting it on a drink ticket. "I know a few women who’ve been lucky enough to climb that family tree. More than a few. They all compare their future men to that one night.”
I can’t help but snort, "One night? Are you saying the Cocker Brothers never come back for seconds?"
"Not that I've ever heard of." She rushes off, grabs a bucket of limes, hurries back and fills up her empty condiment tray. “Look at this! I’m running out. We’re selling so much booze tonight.”
“I’m still stuck on what you just said. They never spend a second night with women?”
She grins and pulls a fresh drink ticket from the printer. "Except for the women they marry, nope. Maybe that’s just a legend. I’ve never had a chance to try it out. I mean I know of one girl who slept with Jaxson for a couple months, but now she’s friends with his wife! Can you believe it? She must be lusting after him every time she comes over for dinner! Oh, and there was that waitress with the Senator. We all know about that.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. Except for that waitress’ story, I’m totally in the dark about the Cocker family, but I want Lana to keep gossiping.
I have no idea who Jaxson is.
Jeremy didn’t have time to tell me their names.
And really, all J’s?
That’s a little ridiculous. Or adorable.
I can’t decide which, but I’m holding onto the former for my own sense of sanity. I’m growing interested in Jeremy. And Lana only makes it worse when she throws this bomb on me:
“And from what I hear, our boy Jeremy is the last single one. Clock’s ticking!"
That’s what Justin told me last night, too, wasn’t it? My mouth slackens as I glance over to where Jeremy is flipping bottles at the far end of the bar like some sort of gorgeous circus performer. He locks eyes with me and gives me a wink, and I clamp my mouth shut.
Lana glances over her shoulder at him, too, her gorgeous black hair fanning out again. Oh, she does that on purpose!
Woman-to-woman she leans in to tell me in a private volume, "I'm going to see if I can't get in there. Oooooh. Just thinking about him naked has me all..." She laughs under her breath and doesn't finish the sentence. Not that anybody needs her to.
"Good luck with that," I mutter.
So he can make a drink.
So his smile is of the panty-dropping variety.
I've seen his apartment.
He's one of those Millennials who can't get his act together because his parents babied him, he was popular in high school, and now thinks he can slide by on his hot looks.
He’ll probably fuck up soon and get fired.
Once I spend more time with him my stupid little spark of interest will get extinguished. I’m sure the more I get to know him the more bored I’ll become.
Jeremy
As the last patron tucks his wallet into his back pocket, Lana purrs from my left, “Nice moves.”
I’m washing glasses in the sink with suds up my forearms. I glance to her. Oh hell. This is it. Those suggestive smiles she’s given me all night are about to ripen into an offer.
“He was going to buy Single Malts for his friends with or without my selling him.”
“Not him,” she smiles, rolling her eyes like I’m being silly. “You’re good.”
Shoving two soapy glasses into the rinsing-sink I shrug, “Not my first time.”
“Mmm,” she hums like I purposefully said a double entendre. I didn’t.
Cathy calls over from counting the register, “You make me look bad, standing next to you and your tricks.”
I laugh under my breath and keep working.
“Why don’t we all go grab a drink after this? Celebrate,” Lana smiles, and then whips her hair around to see if Cathy’s in. I get a whiff of her shampoo and immediately my muscles tighten. Been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.
I pick up the condiment tray. “Do we throw these out and start fresh tomorrow?”
Cathy nods and then answers Lana’s question. “Can’t. My man and I have a date with Netflix tonight.” Answering me, she points to the fridge. “The limes, oranges and lemon twists that we cut before the shift, the ones in those big white jugs? They stay put. But the ones that have been sitting out, Bryan wants us to trash them.”
“Got it.” I walk to the garbage can, my back to the girls.
“What about you, Jeremy?” Lana purrs.
One of the things I don’t miss about civilian life is fending off the women. I know most guys would hear me say that and want to punch me out. But fuck it. If you’ve spent all your school years being chased you start to wonder where the challenge is. You start to take advantage since it’s so freely offered. Me and my brothers all went through that stage. For years. When I was twenty-one and bartending at some of the hottest bars in the city, I got my fair share of ass.
It gets old. Empty. Soulless.
Lana here doesn’t know me. And we’re working together so no matter how good her shampoo smells or how big her rack is, screwing her could royally screw us both if things turned into drama, which they often do with casual sex.
It’s just a need to be loved that makes us try the short-term fix of clamping together for a few sweaty minutes.
I get it.
We all have that need to connect. But in a deeper way than just a couple hours can give. Deep down we’re all looking for something real, even if we don’t want to admit it.
My brothers, for example. Maybe Jason is the only one I can point at and say he hoped to find the one ever since he was a kid.
But despite their manwhore ways the others have fallen like domino pieces in an unpredicted tornado. Wedding rings flying on them before they even knew what the fuck happened.
They all must have secretly wanted something real, so when they found it, they locked it down. Claimed it. Wouldn’t let it go, and never will. They’re going to hang on even when times get rough as they always do because that’s just life. The shit’s not easy. So you stick together.
I’ve resisted following my brothers’ leads in so many ways, and while I don’t see where I have anything to offer a wife, with my head as fucked as it is, I guess I want that in my future. Somehow.
But it ain’t coming from Lana.
And I feel empty enough when I wake up without having some stranger next to me who I don’t want to have breakfast with.
She’s got, you’re my next conquest all over her face, and it’s got nothing to do with me.
Who I really am.
What I’m made of.
What I can offer.
Lana asks again since I haven’t answered her, “What d’ya say, Jeremy? Grab a drink with me.”
Meagan walks out of the kitchen just three feet away from where I’m standing. Her soft brown eyes sharpen and flicker from me to Lana, then back to me, before she lifts her head and continues to the front.
She heard that.
Thinks I’ll accept.
The girl looks down on me. I can feel it. I find it amusing if not a little strange. Never had anyone shove their nose up in the air around me as much as that girl does. And I sure do love to piss her off.
So I almost agree to the drink. Even open my lips to say yes. But that would mean I’d have to be alone with Lana. I’m not in the mood.
“I’ve got to walk my dog,” I shrug, strolling back to wash the empty condiment tray and grab a towel to dry it. I can tell she’s about to offer to come with me so I quickly add, “And I have plans after that. Otherwise, I would.”
“Bummer. Another time.”
“Sure.”
Lana goes back to her side. The restaurant is empty. Sound travels. I know Meagan was listening. I can see her futzing at the host stand. Maybe she’s pretending to work.
I bet it’s an act.
I caught her watching me a lot tonight, just itching to fire me, and looking for a way. Well, I won’t give her one.
Cathy’s voice breaks through the quiet. “You have a dog?”
“Yep. First night I’ve been away from him this long since I got him.”
“Awww, poor guy. He must miss you. What’s his name?”
Throwing a towel over my shoulder I say on a smile, “Name’s Aslan.”
I hear a gasp from the host stand and glance over to see Meagan staring ahead. She looks over her shoulder at me, with a weird expression like I struck a chord.
Raising my voice a little to include her in the conversation, I ask her, “You read the book, Boss?”
She nods, “Yes. When we were kids.” Her fingers look a little shaky as she slides the iPad into the drawer and locks it away for the night. I’ve seen men and women in the Corps with that same dazed look after a major blast has rocked their eardrums to bits.
“Family thing?”
“Sorry,” she asks, cocking her head as she walks toward us between the empty dining tables.
“Was it a family tradition, the books? You look like they meant a lot to you.”
Like she doesn’t want to talk about it, she glances between the three of us and exhales, blinking to clear her eyes. Dismissively she explains, “My mother read them to us, that’s all. I just…my mind’s on something else.”
She passes the bar for the kitchen and I know she’s lying. I triggered a past memory. Is her mother dead?
“Hey, you okay?”
She nods and doesn’t answer, disappearing.
Cathy meets my eyes and whispers, “What was that about?”
I shrug, “I don’t know. She’s met my dog. I think it was about the book.”
“What book?”
“You haven’t read them?” Lana says, her voice also hushed. “Everyone’s read them. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, by C.S. Lewis.”
“Oh, no, I never did,” Cathy says. “You named your dog after them, Jeremy?”
“Yeah. We read them as boys. But my favorite was The Magician’s Nephew. In the series Aslan was the name of the lion. It actually means Lion in Turkish.”
From the blank look in her eyes, Cathy missed out on one of the best children’s books of all time.
Jeremy
Lana’s ears are perked. “Meagan met your dog?”
“Yep.”
Both my co-workers wait for more. I give them a smirk but no explanation. More fun this way.
We all return to cleaning, but now Lana has decided to stop showing me her crack every chance she gets. Guess she thinks Meagan has beaten her to the punch. Fucking hilarious.
Bryan walks in from outside, grinning and looking every bit the owner of this fine dining establishment. He’s removed the chef’s coat and is stro
lling around in a suit with his tie undone. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to look rakishly godlike. What a douche.
He was a dick to me today, making it clear he’s boss and I’d better bow down. I need this job, so I play the game without an ounce of shame.
But I sure as fuck don’t like the guy.
As I clean my station I tell him, “People had only good things to say tonight.”
“It’s true, Bryan,” Cathy calls over, shuffling a stack of one dollar bills. “We heard hundreds of gushing compliments tonight, huh, Lana?”
“Oh my God, Bryan, they love everything! Even the bathrooms.”
He gives a smile as if he already knows the place is perfect. “Really?”
“Yes!” Lana points to the barstools in front of her. “Three women sitting right here went on and on about the bottle of Chanel’s Chance you leave in the ladies bathroom, and all the little toiletries we women might need at a moment’s notice. But no bathroom attendant making you feel like you’re being watched. They loved it!”
Bryan chuckles under his breath and rakes his hair back again. He locks eyes with me. “I watched you tonight.”
I pause. “Hope I impressed.”
This is the moment he reveals my fate.
Suddenly I’m breaking a sweat.
My heartbeat starts pounding in my ears.
What the fuck?
You know what it is?
For the first time since I’ve been back in the states, six hours in a row passed by completely ghost-free. From when the first guest walked in the door to when the last one left, my head has been right the fuck here in the present moment.
I was smiling.
I was busy with something that made me feel good, not bad.
I had no regrets about anything I did tonight.
I was free.
“I’m happy to be here,” I add when he says nothing. He’s concentrating on me, not sure if he wants to kick my ass to the curb.
Cocky Soldier: A Military Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 6) Page 9