by Lisa Childs
Anthony had been her hero. Still was.
Which made it seem impossible that he was involved in this thing. But the proof had been there in black and white. She couldn’t call him. Not until she figured out what to do.
She walked through the bar, checking on her tables. People generally sipped drinks at Lavender. Beer went for ten bucks, wine and well drinks for thirteen and brand-name cocktails for sixteen. The bill got big fast if you were pounding them back.
Every once in a while, there would be somebody who was in a mood to be overserved, but the bartenders at Lavender were well trained to deal with that. Hagney and Bryce, the two behind the bar tonight, wouldn’t hesitate to turn somebody away if necessary.
She assumed it was Hagney who had talked too much to Trey. Since her very first night at Lavender four months ago, they’d clicked. Not romantically. He had a wife and two little boys at home. But they’d become good friends really fast. He’d been super angry on her behalf when the table had skipped. He probably would have hidden it but the assistant manager had been on the floor and had seen it go down.
It was likely that part of Hagney’s indignation had stemmed from her reaction, which on most nights would have been quiet indignation that somebody could be so inconsiderate. Tonight, a few tears had slipped out. She’d made up the excuse about rent money being tight, both to Hagney and to Trey later, but that wasn’t the truth. Well, not the whole truth. Rent money was always tight but the tears had slipped out for a much simpler reason.
Lately, she’d felt like crying about everything.
But to tell anybody that, and tell them why, could be disastrous. If she was wrong, she’d be making a serious allegation against people who wouldn’t forget her lapse. She could kiss her job goodbye. Maybe any job because that kind of thing would follow a person. She’s the one, people would whisper. Can you believe she made a mistake like that? Anthony would be incredulous that she could ever suspect him of something so heinous. It would ruin their relationship.
If she was right, however, it would be worse. How was she going to face her mother, face everyone who cared about Anthony? Didi was her godchild for goodness’ sakes.
Trey Riker had been quick to offer a loan. Seemed as if it was an authentic offer which, for just a second, had touched her. But then she thought of her most recent conversation with Rodney Ballure. I know you appreciate the limb I’m perched on because I offered you this job. The words themselves were not horrible, but the way he’d said them made her feel uneasy. His tone had been suggestive. As if there was some expectation of repayment.
She wasn’t going to get into another situation like that with one of Anthony’s friends. Although, Trey was considerably more handsome than Rodney. His light brown hair had a good cut that made the most of the thick texture. The lights in Lavender had picked up the natural gold highlights. Great bone structure, with a wide jaw and a very nice mouth. Dark lashes meant to make every girl in the room jealous.
When she’d first arrived in Vegas, she thought about how nice it might be to meet a guy. She would be twenty-nine in two weeks. Most of her friends were either married or in serious relationships. She’d dated, of course, and had one rather long relationship that had fizzled out in the end. But she’d been mostly busy getting a doctorate degree. It had taken a couple extra years because she’d worked a series of part-time jobs—waitressing, retail, telemarketing, you name it—to offset the expense of her degree. But now she had her first real job.
And as she’d unpacked her boxes at her new apartment, looking out at the low mountains that surrounded Vegas, she’d been excited about the possibilities. Romance. Marriage. A child. That last bit was all sweet little Didi’s fault. Nothing better than the pudgy arms of a baby around your neck.
It could be so good.
But now, six months later, she couldn’t think of any of those things.
She needed to stay sharp. Watchful.
Which was why Trey needed to take his offers down the street. In this town, there would be plenty of takers.
She stopped at the two-top in the far corner. The newly arrived couple was holding hands across the table. They were in their early thirties. Both wanted champagne with a side of chocolate-dipped strawberries. The woman was busy looking at her ring finger that had a sparkly diamond on it.
“Congratulations?” she ventured.
They both beamed. “We got married today,” said the man. “Didn’t tell a soul we were doing it. Got on a plane in Chicago, arrived at three and here we are.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said, meaning it. Just because circumstances had put her life on hold, it didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for others.
On her way to enter the newlyweds’ order, the three men who’d been initially fairly polite but, after five beers each, were getting rather obnoxious, waved her over. She kept a smile on her face. Earlier, when the one had grabbed her butt, she’d quickly stepped away. Hadn’t made a scene. Things like that happened in bars. But there was a line and she thought these three might be just about to cross it.
She kept a safe distance. “Ready for your check?” she asked.
“Hell no, darling,” said the one who hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. He smiled at her. “Come closer,” he said. He patted his leg.
Not on your life. “Got to scoot,” she said. “Bosses don’t like it if we keep the customers waiting.”
“I’m a customer, darling, and I could give you three suggestions on how you could make me real happy,” he said, his tone full of innuendo. The other goofballs at the table laughed, maybe a little uneasily.
She kept the polite, yet distant, smile on her face that she’d perfected when she’d started cocktailing. “Then, another round?” she asked.
He tapped the table, as if he couldn’t be bothered to speak. Great. She didn’t intend to talk to them any longer anyway. She’d let Hagney know that this trio had worn out their welcome. He’d deliver the bad news that there weren’t going to be any more drinks and they’d be gone by the time she got back with the strawberries.
She walked back to the bar and entered her orders. She ignored Trey Riker, who appeared to have ordered another drink. What the hell was he doing? He’d come, he’d checked and reported back to her brother. His work was done here.
She motioned for Hagney to lean close. Told him that his services were needed. “I’m going to run back and get the strawberries,” she said.
He nodded and cracked his knuckles. She winked at him.
The kitchen was behind the dining room. Bar staff were not supposed to cross the dining room, but rather, connect to the kitchen through the back hallway. It was rather inconvenient and required them to sidestep around customers on their way to the restroom, but she understood the rationale.
She was coming back, with two plates of delicious-looking chocolate-dipped strawberries, when it all went to hell. Table-tapper came out of the men’s room. He saw her and headed her way.
“Darling, I don’t like being told that my business isn’t wanted.”
“Happens to the best of us,” she said lightly. “Have a good evening,” she said, working to keep her tone even, polite. De-escalate. First rule of handling an unhappy customer.
Sometimes it didn’t work all that well with a drunk. And it looked as if this was one of those times. The man swaggered toward her. She tried to sidestep around him but he was faster on his feet than she anticipated. He grabbed her upper arm and swung her toward him. She lost her grip on the plates and heard them shatter over the roar in her ears.
He pushed her up against the wall, pushed himself against her and tried to kiss her. She screamed, knowing that it would be hard to be heard over the music in the bar and the noise in the kitchen. She flung her arms and tried to kick, but he had at least seventy-five pounds on her.
He gripped her chin hard. “Kiss me,
damn you.”
No. No. No.
Copyright © 2018 by Beverly R. Long
ISBN-13: 9781488092855
In the Bodyguard’s Arms
Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Childs
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