“Just a few more minutes, Thia.” I reached down and grabbed the hand of the little girl beside me. She whimpered and pulled at my hand, trying to get away from me. I sighed and turned my attention back to the grocery store shelf in front of me. Normally 19-month-old Cynthia was very well-behaved, but neither of us had slept well the night before, and she was in no mood to shop. Her patience was worn almost as thin as mine.
Making my decision, I reached out to take my selection off the shelf. It was large, so I released Thia to grab hold of it with both hands. I set the box in the cart as the sound of tiny, flat feet racing across linoleum reached my ears. Turning around, I saw Cynthia run into the middle of the intersecting aisle.
I was just about to start after her when I heard Cynthia cry out. Looking back up, I saw her lying on the floor with another cart sitting beside her.
“Thia!” I couldn’t run to her fast enough. She was crying loudly, and a man I could only assume was the driver of the cart kneeled beside her. She cried harder when I scooped her up off of the floor. A quick inspection showed a scraped elbow and a red knee, but no serious damage. I pulled her closer as she buried her face in the crook between my neck and shoulder. “Shh, Thia. It’s okay, sweetie. Everything’s okay.”
With her cradled in my arms, I turned my attention to the man now standing beside me. He was cute; tall, with curly, dark blond hair and shimmering green eyes. His A-style shirt revealed strong arms, a taut chest, and perfectly toned abs.
He reached down to pick up the purse that had fallen unnoticed from my arm and handed it back to me. I shouldered it absently and went back to stroking Thia’s hair. The man reached out a hand, then changed his mind and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine. It’s just a couple of scrapes. Cynthia’s just learning that she can’t run away from me like that,” I said forcefully, pulling away to look at my little girl. She stuck out her bottom lip and buried her face away in my shoulder again. I thought for a moment, wondering if I should punish her or just let it go. Deciding that forcing her to sit in the cart would be punishment enough, my attention switched back to the man in front of me. “I’m sorry for the trouble she caused.”
“It’s no problem. I just hope I didn’t hurt her.” Sincerity shone in his eyes, along with something else. I didn’t know what it was, but something told me to get out fast.
“She’ll be fine. I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to go.” He arched an eyebrow, assumingly in response to my clipped tone. For a second, I thought about extending my hand, but my mind told me not to, and I turned away.
I made it all the way to the cart and the end of the aisle without looking back. Well, I only glanced.
“Leilah, table six has been waiting on these drinks for ten minutes.”
“Cynthia hasn’t slept in three days, I’m serving the restaurant and the club, and I’m currently dealing with the babysitter from hell. Don’t push my buttons.”
The club bartender Deke pushed the loaded tray across the bar to me. “Hey, the witch is supervisor tonight, so if you want to keep your job, get on it.” The disco ball reflected off his gold earring and the sweat on his forehead. His eyebrow rose when I just stood there. “Look, I know you’re dealing with a million things, but Emily’s wearing four-inch heels that have already gotten her in a face-plant with a full tray. I can’t have anymore mishaps. Please just be yourself and take care of everything like you usually do. I’ve got Em taking orders and clearing empties to ease it up for you a little.”
Seeing the truth in his words, I shouldered the tray and turned, narrowly missing getting hit by a couple running across the floor while managing not to spill. “My tips had better be huge.”
Deke didn’t even look up from the drinks he was pouring. “It’s a bunch of rich frat boys, and you’ve got sweat and sex-hair.”
The comment wasn’t surprising, but I shook my head at him and lifted a hand to my hair. Scrunching it just a bit, I flung it over my shoulder. I needed the tips.
Six people had crammed themselves into the four-person booth. The two girls, each stuck between two separate guys, looked like there was no place they wanted to be less. The guys were regulars, big tippers who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, and I felt bad for the girls, so I sent a quick text to the DJ on the in-house cell phones. I passed out the drinks slowly, waiting for the DJ’s voice on the speakers. When it came, I was in position. “Hey, he said all the ladies. You two should get out there.”
The whole group glanced at me in surprise. Thankfully, the brunette understood what had happened and stood up. I turned and left, swinging by another booth to mop up a spill and swap Emily my bare tray for her tray stacked with empties. That tray I took to the dishwasher in the kitchen before going back to Deke and doing two more tables and another switch with Emily. Just when I thought I might get a chance to breathe, two messages vibrated my phone. Order up and New table. I sighed and headed for the door connecting the club to the restaurant.
An hour later, the kitchen was closed, and my last table was gone. I picked up the stingy tip and started to stack the dishes. My phone vibrated for the millionth time with a message from Deke: Get behind the bar now. Cursing the double duty and the fact that my shift wouldn’t end for four hours and twenty-seven minutes, I set the dishes down. “Antonio, can you bus for me? Deke needs me.” The teenager nodded, and I threw the tip back on the table. He deserved more than that for helping me out all night.
Stepping through the connecting door into the hallway, I took off my blouse, rolled up my skirt, and pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair. I had to look modest and keep my hair out of the way in the restaurant, but the bar was halter tops and long, feminine hair all the way. I needed all the tips I could get, and I was not above playing femme fatale to get them.
As soon as I opened the door to the club, I could tell why Deke had called for me. While most of the booths were empty, everyone had decided sound check was the perfect time to crowd the bar. I stepped behind and started pouring. Bartending was the thing I hated most about the club. It wasn’t in my job description, but I would always step behind if it got crazy like it was tonight. The only really bad part about it was how everybody clamored for your attention while you were pouring drinks and trying to total prices in your head. People at bars don’t know the meaning of “wait your turn.”
I had worked through a half-dozen customers when I heard that voice. “I’ll have two beers on tap, a shot of Jack, and a Coke.” I whipped my head up and looked straight into his green eyes. He didn’t recognize me at first, but I could tell the moment he did. His eyes opened a little wider, and his jaw dropped just a bit. “We meet again.”
“Yeah, I guess. Ten bucks.” I took the bill that he slid across the bar and turned to the register for his change. I could just barely hear his voice over the din of the crowd.
“The little girl was cute. Is she your daughter?”
I turned back with his change and was shocked to see that he actually looked interested in the answer. He was probably just trying to figure out if a one-night stand was in the making. “Sort of. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have customers waiting.” Once again, he arched his right eyebrow, but he seemed to understand that he was getting nowhere with me. The gorgeous stranger slid his change into the tip jar and turned to walk away. I couldn’t help myself; I watched him leave. The sway of his hips in his faded jeans mesmerized me for just a moment.
The sound of a hand slamming against the bar brought me back to the real world. “Sorry,” I said. “What can I get you?”
“I barely got any tips tonight.” Emily appeared at my side, her whiney voice grating on my last nerve. She stared covetously at the pile of bills I was counting. I kept an eye on her hand. It wouldn’t be the first time she took something.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t serve anything tonight.” I finished counting my tips and glanced down the bar to where Deke was emptying his tip jar. “You pulled me behind the bar twice tonight. Some of that’s mine.” He slid a chunk of the bills across and I counted that out as well. “You know, I don’t even know how you can wear shoes like that and work a full shift.”
“Your heels aren’t that much smaller than mine.”
“But mine are made by a comfort brand, and I don’t fall over in them. You just wear stupid shoes and expect everyone else to pick up the slack,” I snapped. Honestly, she was starting to sound like Thia. I didn’t have the tolerance for that at 2:30 in the morning.
“I’ll have you know that men appreciate my feminine look.”
“I’ll have you know guys appreciate not wearing their drinks.”
Emily just stared at me for a second, as if she didn’t know I had an extreme dislike for her. Then, to further my comparison of her and Thia, she crossed her arms and stormed off through the door.
Deke whistled softly and slid down to stand beside me. “Ooh, she’s a feisty one, huh?”
I rested my head on my arm and closed my eyes. “She’s childish and stupid. If Tony doesn’t fire her soon, I’m going to quit.” When Deke laughed, I picked up my head and supported it with one hand. “I’m not kidding! 1321 is great, but I am so sick of working the restaurant, club, and bar with practically no help. It’s hard enough in the restaurant when we’re always short a waitress, but I may as well be the only one out on the floor when I work with Emily. I don’t know why she’s still here. I get yelled at twice as much as she does, and she can’t even do her own work!”
“You know exactly why she’s still here; she’s 5’11”, 130 pounds, and her legs go up to her neck. She pulls guys in and keeps them here.” Deke picked up my in-house cell phone and put it behind the bar for tomorrow. He handed me a glass of water and looked me in the eye. “You’re talking pretty big for a woman with a little girl to care for.”
“Cynthia is exactly why I’m doing this.” I leaned over the bar earnestly. Deke was the only one I could trust to give me decent advice. “I barely ever get to see her. I know I get some pretty good money here, but my internship is almost up, and I have a few people actually looking at my designs. I could get a design job any day now. And this place runs me down so much that when I actually am home, all I have the energy to do is lay in bed. She deserves better than that. She deserves a mother who can give her time, love, affection.” My eyes were misty by the time I finished speaking. I wiped the tears away and drank my water for something to do.
“I’ll talk to Tony.” I picked my head up in surprise. “I’ll tell him Emily needs to change her wardrobe and learn how to get behind the bar if the need arises. I’ll also tell him if he’s scheduling you for the restaurant and the floor, he needs to put someone other than Emily on the shift.”
I sat silently for a moment. That Deke would go to Tony showed just how much he cared about me. “You’ll really do that for me?” I asked incredulously.
He nodded. “You know I don’t like to use my personal relationship with Tony, but I’d do anything for you and that little girl.” Deke reached over and tucked some hair behind my ear gently. “Of course, this favor comes with a string.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“You have to help me pick out an engagement ring.”
If I thought I was stunned before, it was nothing compared to how I felt now. “Engagement ring? Deke!” I stood and leaned over the bar to wrap my arms around him. “When are you going to ask her?”
The joy on Deke’s face gave him a young quality and shaved a few years off his early thirties age. “I want to do it before we go to her parents’ house this weekend.”
“Stop by the office about one tomorrow, and we’ll go out on my lunch break.” Deke nodded, still beaming. I glanced at the clock and gasped. “It’s almost three! I have to be up for work soon. I have to get out of here; I’ve already lost an hour of sleep.” Deke waved good-night as I walked out the door. I let it slam shut behind me before walking to my car, the image of my nice, firm mattress accompanying me home.