Still Water

by A. M. Johnson

  I pulled into the back lot of the bar and let the song on my iPod play out before I headed inside. My mind was a complete suckfest. How in the world was I going to make it through Sunday dinner at Elizabeth's house? What the hell was I thinking? Shit. I needed reinforcements, and I knew exactly who to ask. I pulled my phone from the center console and sent a quick text to my old best friend, and, if I was a betting man, my soon to be sister-in-law.

  Me: I need you.

  Cam: Don't be sending me dirty texts anymore. Are you drunk?

  I laughed aloud. Cameron Sealy had been my best friend since kindergarten. I had tried to defend Lizzie over an issue with a marker, if I remember correctly. Anyway, the bitch, Cam, was so stubborn. I think I made her cry, so Elizabeth full on hit me. Since then I can't remember a time Cam hasn't been around. In fact, she's around way more than I like now. My brother Colby started dating her a few years ago, and now they're just the perfect damn couple. I rolled my eyes. They fight so badly all the time. It's actually quite comical. Colby always tries to brag about the make-up sex. I shut that shit show of a conversation down real quick. I didn't need to know what Cameron was like in the sack. Don't get me wrong. She is super-hot. Five foot ten, all legs, and long strawberry blonde hair, but I looked at her like a sister. I definitely didn't want to know where her "sweet spots" were. I outwardly cringed at the thought as I typed out my reply.

  Me: Hell no, I'm not drunk! I'm just getting to work.

  Cam: OK? What do you want? I'm busy. Some of us still go to school. We can't all be fancy graduates.

  I might as well just be blunt.

  Me: I'm going to Liz's for dinner on Sunday. Go with me?

  I waited two whole minutes for a reply.

  Me: Please… I can't do it alone.

  Her next text came immediately

  Cam: I will. I'm so happy right now! I could freaking burst! About time, you moron. What time is dinner?

  I swore. About damn time… Whatever.

  Me: 5:30. Bring my stupid ass little brother.

  Cam: Duh ;) Love ya, Toodles.

  I hated that nickname.

  Me: Don't call me that. See you Sunday, whore.

  Cam: Nice, real nice. Love you, asshat.

  Cammie and I always had our way; she had me clutching my stomach in laughter at her last text. I was so busy laughing my damn head off I didn't realize I was late. I was stalling, dreading the paperwork I knew was piled high. Frank, my boss, needed help with the label, so I'd taken the first half of the week off. He had signed a new folk band out of Denver. We spent the better part of the week in the studio with them. Their music had a real nice vibe, the best talent we had signed yet. My assistant manager Tiffany was a hard ass; she hated the personnel aspect of the job. She was spitting daggers at me when I'd told her it was her job to hand out the applications. I was sure there were shit loads of applications sitting on my desk right now.

  I turned off the car and grabbed my phone. It was now three-thirty. Tiffany was going to bite my head off for being late. I needed to hire someone quick unless I wanted a murder on my hands. Tiff was very temperamental.

  My key slid into the back door of the bar. The smell of bleach, pine, and musty cigarettes assaulted my senses as the door opened. Home. I smiled a small sideways grin. The sound system out in the front of the bar was playing loudly, and I recognized the song immediately as "Waiting Room," by the old school band Fugazi. The deep bass beat resonated through the dark hall of the back offices. I set down my stuff on my desk, and, sure as shit, the applications were scattered everywhere. I released an annoyed sigh before I headed out front to see what was in store for me. The fact that Tiffany had music on was a good sign. She was a tiny little thing with long, straight jet-black hair, at least ten piercings in each ear, and covered in tattoos. Yeah, she looked harmless, but I knew better. She'd mess me up before I'd even have the chance to say hello. That little sprite packed a mean punch to the nuts. I knew… personally.

  Tiffany's history was why I was nervous coming out of that back hallway. She hated my ass for leaving her to run the joint. As I stepped through the back hallway door, I came to a complete halt. Looking around bewildered for a minute, I gawked at the hot piece behind the bar. The song had picked up, and she was singing and dancing her ass off while dusting the bottles we'd lit up for decoration. Damn.

  I took a few steps closer to the bar. Her back was facing me, thank God. Otherwise, my deliberate stare probably would've freaked her out. She was totally curvy, petite as hell… sweetest ass I'd ever seen. She was shaking it as she belted out the lyrics. Her hair – Holy shit that hair! – was wild and curly. The copper color shone brilliantly under the can lights of the bar. I was stock still, trapped by just the sight of her. Her hair like a flame licked up and down. It was everywhere. She reminded me of that Scottish Disney chick Seth's little niece always watched. She had on black skinny jeans that hugged every blessed curve of her body. The tight, gray T-shirt she wore had a small surfboard printed on the back in between her shoulder blades. The odd logo in a land-locked state brought me back down from my overly aroused senses.

  What the hell was wrong with me? She was just a chick. I haven't had a response to a female like this since… well ever. Lizzie was the only one who could grind all my inner workings to a halt. Until now. It was time for me to pull my shit together.

  "Excuse me…" Nothing. I cleared my throat and spoke louder. "Excuse me."

  The girl squeaked and about fell over. She knocked over her spray bottle of cleaner and caught herself on the bar with her hands.

  "Holy shit, are you okay?" I burned up the concrete to get to her. She could have broken her damn neck. Whoa… simmer down, Todd. My inner dialog was pissing me off.

  The chick's face hid nothing as she freely drank in all of me with her eyes. Her high cheekbones turned pink. I'd been a swimmer in college, and, since then, my focus was to bulk up a bit more. I'd always been somewhat tall, six foot one with a shit ton of lean muscle. Once I was finished with swimming, I wanted to push my body, see what I could do with it. Besides music, fitness had become my only other hobby. I watched as her eyes took in all the ink. Her mouth popped open in surprise, and I could tell she liked what she saw.

  "You… you scared me." Her voice had a deep quality to it, and it was sexy as hell.

  "Who the hell are you?" As captivated by this girl as I might have been, I wasn't sure why she was in my bar. My manner was a bit severe, and she stepped back making me immediately regret the tone of my voice.

  "I work here." She stood taller before she said, "Who the hell are you?" Her eyes fixed on mine, and I about lost my mind. The large, open, store front windows let in enough natural light that once I got closer her eyes were all I was able to focus on. I had never, and I mean never, seen eyes this color in my life. They were cat yellow with green specks and rimmed with a slight burst of blue. Was she wearing contacts? I shook my head slightly and remembered I was supposed to be talking when I noticed she had a smug ass look on her face.

  "I'm the fucking boss, sweetheart." I rubbed the back of my neck causing my shirt to ride up and expose a small sliver of my inked up abs. Her eyes immediately darted down. She bit her bottom lip and then quickly brought her eyes back up to mine. It was my turn to be smug. "I'm going to ask you again, why are you in my damn bar?" I took the last step toward the wooden counter. I placed both my hands on the shellacked surface and leaned in waiting for an answer.

  "I started working here yesterday. Tiffany hired me." She looked at me like this shit was obvious.

  "You got a name?" I couldn't force my eyes away from hers. The green flecks appeared to move when the light hit them just right. They were surreal.

  "Lily, my name's Lily." Her irritated scowl dissipated as she held out her hand. "Nice to meet you… Boss." She gave me a megawatt smile that made me weak in the knees. What the hell was wrong with me?

  "Todd." I took her delicate hand in mine. The dark purple nail polish on her fi
ngernails created a crème like tone on her skin. I had the urge to place my lips on the soft flesh. For just a moment, I thought, I would have died right then for just one taste. Of course, I didn't. I kept it together.

  "Todd, nice to meet you." She shook my hand. As I let go of her palm, I gently rubbed my thumb against the satin feel of her skin. It was entirely instinctive; I had no control over the gesture. A soft sound whispered from her lips as she noticed the small touch.

  "I'm looking forward to working with you." And I was. If the smile on my face wasn't proof enough, I didn't know what was. This unreal girl… the girl with wildfire for hair and cat eyes was going to be here, in my bar, at least four days a week. Sunday dinner at Liz's didn't seem so bad now. Having this chick here couldn't have happened at a better time. I was a lucky son of a bitch. I started to push away from the bar and noticed a wedding band hanging from a silver chain around her neck. It rested above her full breasts. The gray V-neck amplified her cleavage. I took a deep breath to calm my stimulated hormones. Is she married? Of course she'd be married. Why on earth would a girl like her be single? Figures. I was instantly pissed.

  "Me too. Tiffany said this place is the best bar in town. I'm lucky she hired me." She smiled that damn smile. I wasn't a lucky son of a bitch. I was in hell. Again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lily

  THIS JACKASS WAS STARING AT ME like he either wanted to kill me or screw me. I'm pretty sure I wasn't okay with either option. The heat from his dark brown eyes made my fingers twitch, while the amber burst around his pupils lit his gaze. I nervously twirled at my father's wedding band that I always wore around my neck. His keen eyes followed the movement making me feel as if I was under interrogation. The music I picked to listen to fell silent as I watched this guy's jaw tick angrily beneath his razor sharp jaw line. He had just enough scruff you'd call it a beard. His black Seaweed band T-shirt stretched taut across his gym perfect chest. The colorful artwork on his arms flexed as he pushed away from the other side of the bar. The muscles pulled deliciously under the skin. His thick, purposely disheveled, dark blond hair fell slightly over his forehead, desperately in need of a cut. My new boss was way too hot, sexy, stunning… I struggled for the right insight. Alarm bells rang in my brain telling me to stay the hell away. He was asshole personified. I could smell a jerk from less than thirty yards away, and this guy… this guy was trouble.

  "Well, I see you met the new hire." Tiffany, the girl that hired me, was smiling like a cat that caught the canary. Tiffany's long black hair was effortlessly straight and polished; her bangs formed an exact line just at the brow line. She had tattoos covering her arms, and I could see the tips of cherry stems peeking out of her low-cut tank that had the Blue Bar logo printed on it. She had smooth angular features and stark hazel eyes. The hard look was only just that, a look. She was, in fact, lovely.

  "Yes… I did. Thanks for the heads up." Todd slowly removed me from his death glare.

  "Don't give me shit. You left me here for three days. I'll hire who I want." Tiffany, who couldn't be more than five foot-one, poked the bear right in the chest with her teeny finger. I stifled a giggle. They both whipped their heads in my direction causing my smirk to falter… but only a little.

  They didn't really scare me. Well, he scared me… but only because right now, the look I couldn't decipher earlier weighed heavy into the "I want to screw you" category. Never going to happen. Besides, I sort of already hated him. First impressions were a bitch.

  "What's so funny, Red?" Todd's deep, gravelly voice permeated the thick air. My posture was prideful at the dare in his tone. Who the hell does he think he is? Red? What the hell is that?

  "You, if you really want to know." I smirked again and turned my attention to Tiffany. "Is he always this big of a dick?"

  Tiffany smiled. "Always."

  "What was that about my big—"

  "Ugh, Todd! Don't even start talking about your man parts. Jace is bad enough." Tiffany's face pinched into a scowl as she shook her head.

  Todd's dense, warm laugh made me smile. At least he could make fun of himself.

  "Shit, Tiffany, you're so right. Jace is a douchbag." His head tilted back exposing his throat as he laughed. I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He really is an attractive asshole.

  "Who's Jace?" I asked.

  Todd's full lips pulled into an easygoing smile. "He's another bartender. Worked here forever. He'll show you the ropes. Should be here in about an hour."

  "Oh, crap. I need to go home and get ready." I grabbed my purse and keys from under the bar. When I'd come in earlier to fill out paperwork, Tiffany asked if I could start stocking and cleaning while she ran some errands. My shift started at five, and I needed to get my butt home and ready. Sweaty and messy didn't get you tips. I wasn't paying attention as I stood from under the bar and walked straight into the wall that was apparently my new boss.

  "Gah! How'd you get back here so fast?" The words tumbled from my mouth.

  "Whoa. Watch where you're going, Red." Todd's cut arms enclosed around my waist stopping me from falling flat on my butt. My forearms and the palms of my hands splayed across his solid chest. The scent of peppermint, cedar, and bar soap filled my personal bubble. Why did he have to smell so good? I was in Hell, that's why. I pushed away from his embrace only to see a cocky smile. Yup, total jerk. "You look a little flush. You gonna make it?" Oh God was he ever the arrogant ass.

  "I'm fine. Don't give yourself too much credit… boss." I reached up and spun the silver ring around the chain. My nervous habit.

  The humor vanished from his face. "You better not be late. I have at least twenty applications on my desk that say you're one hundred percent replaceable."

  A small huff escaped my lips at his rude words. My chin shot up with indignation as I stormed past.

  "Don't worry about him. Like I said, he's always a giant dill weed." Tiffany winked at me, and I couldn't help but smile. She's right. I wasn't going to worry about him. I didn't travel this far to let some narcissistic asshole try to run me down. I had one goal — get a record deal.

  THE BAR WAS BUSY, I thought, for a Thursday night. It was just barely eleven, and the place was crowded. The patrons lined the bar, filled the tables, and danced on the small dance floor in front of the stage. The live music was rich and packed the room with such an amazing vibe. The entertainment was a folk band from Denver, and their music was infectious. I couldn't help but nod my head to the beat and hum along.

  "Someone's got the music bug." The striking blue eyes of my co-worker twinkled as he appraised my little show.

  "Oh, I have it bad. When's open mic again, Jace?" Jace was the complete opposite of Todd. Where Todd was brooding and moody, Jace was light and fun. I liked Jace instantly, and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. Jace was tall and lean. He had muscle, but he seemed softer, like he earned those muscles hauling hay or working outside, and his clean cut air and smile could make any girl stop dead in her tracks. He was thirty years old, just a few years older than my twenty-seven, so I hoped we had lots in common.

  Jace pulled his fingers through his sandy brown hair and smiled down at me. "Tuesdays, before Lakeside Prophets goes on."

  "Lakeside Prophets?"

  "Todd's band… you didn't know?" Jace shook his head and smiled. "They're huge here in the indie circuit. Frank and Todd run the record label Blue Bar Music. Any of this ringing a bell?" He playfully tapped my head.

  "Nope, not a chime. I'm not from around here." That wasn't entirely accurate. I knew Frank. Jace looked at me with interest. My mind spun. Todd was in a band? He and Frank ran the label together? This could put a kink in my plan. Before I could elaborate, a patron started running off a list of drinks for us to make. I ran through the ingredients for each drink in my head. Jace and I had a good rhythm, and we held our own. My experience back home helped.

  I was born and raised in Tampa, Florida, by my hippy dad. My dad was in a rock band in his younger years an
d toured the country. He met Pam, my mom, here in Utah, and they hit it off one night at a show. They had dinner the next night and nine months later a baby girl. My mom toured with the band and for a while things were great. Until my mom, who couldn't make a good choice to save her life, started sleeping with the drummer. Frank Nadine. Needless to say, the band broke up, friendships were severed, and years of hard work thrown down the drain all over a "dumb chick," as my dad used to say. The thought made my lips pull up into a grin.

  "Hey pretty lady; hows'bout yoos get me a Bud?" A short, sloppy-looking frat boy swayed and tried to wink at me. This was hysterical.

  "No way, dude. You're cut off." Jace's eyebrows pulled inward.

  "Fuck off!" The drunk guy stumbled a bit.

  "I know you're not talking to her like that, fuck stick." Todd's deep baritone rumbled from his chest. My eyes locked with his right before he grabbed the guy and tossed him away from the bar.

  I sighed. "Where did Todd come from?"

  "Oh, he's always around. He's been around a lot tonight, though. He's been watching you." Jace's eyes narrowed a bit as he watched Todd shove the drunken idiot out of the front doors.

  "He's probably making sure I know how to do my job," I said while scrubbing the pint glasses in the bar sink.

  Jace's deep laugh seemed to echo in the room. "I don't think so. I think someone's got a hard on for you." He winked.

  I balked. "Ew. Please don't ever say that again. I was warned about you."

  He snickered. "Oh yeah, how?"