SNAP (The SNAP Trilogy Book 1) (5 page)

Working in heels fucking sucks. Roger's been gone a whopping five minutes and I already regret this decision. I'd take my shoes off if it was safe and not a health code violation.

"Here, darlin'," Paul says, hoisting a stool over the top of the bar. "Roger didn't say you had to run all over this place. Sit down until you have to make drinks."

"He may not have said it, but it's implied, Paul." I sit down on the stool and look around. It's starting to pick up a little more the later it gets. Patrons are trickling in filling the back booths up. I glance down at my dress and shoes wondering what the hell I was thinking.

"Roger is going to have to hire some waitresses for the bar side. Look at how much busier we are getting. And they just keep coming. If he would hire even one waitress, sales would increase because people wouldn't have to get up and come to the bar to order their drinks. People pay for the convenience of laziness. Hell, I'd pay for that if on the busiest nights I didn't have drunk people lined up around the bar staring at me and yelling about their damn drinks." An aggravated huff falls from my mouth.

It didn't used to bother me so much. I enjoy running the bar side on the weekends. Drunk people make work interesting and make me laugh. But I'm tired. So freaking tired. Running myself ragged to escape the thoughts that drive me insane isn't working. They only gang up on me at night and make it where I can't sleep. When I do find sleep, I wake-up in a panic.

I grab a beer for one of the new comers and pop the cap off handing it to him. He pays me and as I turn around to hand him his change, I notice he's checking me out and tells me not to worry about it. I toss the change in the tip jar and sit back down on the stool. Maybe wearing this dress wasn't such a bad idea. If people keep tipping like that, the jar will full by the end of the night.

"So prove it to him," Cady says staring after the guy who just left the bar.

"Prove it to him? How am I supposed to do that? I'd need a waitress first."

Cady gets a twinkle in her eye as a sly smile spreads across her face.

"Have you been plotting this?"

"Hear me out," she says, raising her to keep me silent. "You man the bar, I man the tables. We show Roger how much he needs to have a waitress by filling the cash register and the tip jar. We get to keep the tips to pay for the rest of our night out on the town." She's excited at the thought of having money to spend. I don't blame the girl. Being stuck between jobs and forced to move home with your mom sucks. I'd hire her if Roger would let me, but he says money is tight as is with all the kitchen employees and waitresses in the dining area. 

"That's illegal, Cady. If you got hurt, we'd be screwed. No way."

As I get up to fill a drink order for a woman, a man at the other end signals he's ready to order, "Be with ya in second, honey." He nods his head and waits patiently.

Cady keeps talking as I work. "Quit being such a worry wart. We’ve done it before."

"Yeah, but Roger was here and was okay with it," I say, popping some limes on a couple of Corona's.

"Well, he'll be okay with it now," she replies snidely.

"Why's that?" I ask over my shoulder as I reach in the cubby hole for a new bottle of whiskey and resume mixing a drink.

"Because you've been so busy the last few minutes you didn't see the large group of people who just walked in."

I turn around and, sure enough, about ten more people are trying to find a place to sit. The door opens and more start rambling in. I check the clock on the wall to see Roger has been gone about thirty minutes.

Damn, this gonna be the longest three hours of my life!

Paul and his friends get up saying their goodbyes. They don't like to be here with the "youngins" so they are calling it a night. I think it's just because they are old and it's past their bedtime.

"Night, Darlin'. I better not see you here tomorrow," Paul says putting money on the counter for his tab.

"Don't count on it." I pat his hand and smile. "Be careful going home."

I hear Cady laughing and turn to look at her. Lined up at the bar are five dudes waiting to have drinks made. Two are flirting with Cady.

"Who's next?" Collectively their eyes turn to me and I can feel them running up my legs like they were fingers. It makes me nervous at first, but I remind myself why I wore the dress in the first place. For this exact reaction. I'm in the middle of a crowded bar, behind a hunk of wood. I'll be fine. I take a deep breath and glance at Cady, she wags her brows and smiles.

They all begin to talk at once and my brain kicks back into work mode. I hold up a finger. "One second, boys."

Reaching under the counter, I pull out a tray and hand it to Cady. She's grinning from ear to ear because she knows that one, that she will get some good change to spend tonight, and two, she's probably going to take home tons of numbers. Like her little black book isn't already filled and overflowing with post-it notes. I hand her a pad of paper and a pen and she sits it on her tray. She struts off to start taking orders as I turn to those standing at the bar.

The eyes that are on me look thirsty, and not just for a drink. It spikes my confidence some as I push thoughts of Phil aside and work my way down the bar getting beers, mixing drinks, and taking food orders. Cady heads back over to the bar with a stack of drink orders and a smile on her face a mile wide.

"Here, boss lady! We've got some thirsty people on our hands," she says as I wait on the last patron in line.

I wipe the sweat off my lip and pull my poncho over my head. Running my hands over my caramel brown hair, I pull it up in a messy knot and secure it with a rubber band I found by the till.

"Yeah, girl. Someone's gonna get good tips tonight! Work that shit and watch as that tip jar overflows." She cocks her brow at me before snagging a couple bucks out of the jar to put in the jukebox. "Now make my drinks, wench!"

Feeling a little more comfortable in my skin, I laugh as she walks away and grab her orders. I flip through slips and take a deep breath. She was right. It's going to be a big night. Several tables not only ordered drinks, but food as well. I chuckle at her use of table descriptions. She didn't use the table numbers, but "Table of 5 hawt guys!", "Snotty Bitches!!!", "Fugly Sweethearts", and "Smoking hotty checking you out!" I freeze, my stomach knotting, as I look at the order for a single drink.

He's alone.

I glance around nonchalantly until I spot him sitting towards the back near the few pool tables we have. It's more shadowed there than anywhere in the bar, but just bright enough I can make him out some, even with the ball cap on his head. The jukebox comes on blaring Van Morrison's
Brown Eyed Girl
as Cady dances her way back over to the bar to wait on her drinks, her red hair flaring out around her. Most of the eyes in the room are on her like they always are. Except his. His are watching me watch her.

"Make those snotty bitches drinks first so I can spend more time with the other tables making tips," she says around the pretzel she pops in her mouth.

"Cady, although I love your descriptions of the tables, I really do, Roger will never hire you if he sees this. If a patron notices you call them a snotty bitch, he and I have to work damage control. That shit sucks, lady. If you have nothing nice to say, save it and tell me later."

Cady rolls her eyes and sighs from her verbal hand slap as I sanitize my hands.

"Fine." She turns around leaning against the bar on her elbows as I start mixing up the snotty bitches Sex On the Beach and Red Headed slut before popping open the beer that goes with it. I start to put all the drinks on her tray so I can move on to her next ticket when she turns around eyes wide.

"What?" I ask as I slide the tray towards her. She nods her head to the side and I turn to see him sitting a few seats down. He's staring into the mirror behind the bar and I suddenly feel nervous and extremely self-conscious. Leaning toward Cady so no one can overhear, I scream whisper, "I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this tonight!"

She grabs the tray off the bar and smirks at me evilly. "You didn't require much talkin' into it. Besides, he seems to have liked what he saw when you came at me like that."

I instantly stand up and tug the hemline of my dress down hoping he couldn't see anything. As she flits away to deliver the first of her drink orders, I start working on the others; filling them quickly before she makes her way back over. All while trying to ignore him and his eyes that I feel roaming my backside until I'm ready to face him.

After filling the "Table of five hawt guys" draft beers, I turn back around to put them on the bar next to their ticket. I notice the last ticket, the one for the "smoking hotty," is gone and look down the bar to where he now sits. His ticket is sitting in front of him.

That sneaky ass bastard.

Collecting a deep breath, and my courage, I stand up straight and walk towards the man who has been watching me all night. His face is turned away watching who knows what, but as soon as I step in front of him, he turns and I get my first good look at him.

Holy mother of God. I'm in trouble.

Warm, chocolate brown eyes framed with thick black lashes meet mine before traveling down the front of my body. I want to feel self-conscious, but his eyes feel so good that I could swear it's his fingertips instead. After what I went through with Phil, I thought it would be a lifetime before I responded to another man. I could never be more wrong. My nipples grow hard under his gaze and I silently wish he doesn't notice. Who am I kidding? It's like men have sonar for nipple hard-on's.

As his eyes come back to my face, I take a deep breath in thanks for whichever god answered my prayers. Unfortunately, my breasts aren't small, so when I take a deep breath it puts those beauts on display. His eyes snap down latching onto them. At this point, I swear they can cut glass. I reach out to grab his ticket and break the stare down he is having with my breasts. I already know his drink order, but that ticket is a reminder to both of us that I know he's been watching me and it just makes things feel awkward. As I pick up the ticket, he pulls it from my fingers and puts it in his back pocket. I freeze not knowing what to do.

"Blue Moon?" I ask, raising a brow at him.

"Yes, please." His top lip twitches as if he's about to smile, but he checks it very quickly remaining stoic and untouchable.

Damn, his lips are so lickable.
His clean shaven jaw is begging to be nibbled on too. Shaking the thought from my mind, I turn to get his beer out of the fridge, feeling his eyes drift to my ass. If he sticks around, there may be nothing left of me but a puddle by the time this night is over with. I turn and place his beer in front of him on a cardboard coaster.

"Here you are, Hun. Cash or tab?" I ask him and watch as he tilts his beer, draining it. His Adam's apple bobs up and down with each swallow and it makes my thighs clench. I turn my head wondering where these feelings are coming from and to get myself under control. I use this chance to check the time. A little after nine.

The only thing I see when I turn back around is his backside walking toward the door. His shirt stretched across his strong shoulders and his jeans hanging a little loose on his hips. The man is definitely smoking hot.

After he leaves, I find a ten dollar bill on the bar where he was sitting. I ring up his drink and throw the change in the tip jar, then get busy so I won't have to help when Roger gets back to play catch-up. Cady and I are busting ass serving drinks and food left and right. Only one person has started to show their ass so far, but his friends were nice enough to take care of that problem for us. Neither Cady nor I are dressed for bar fighting tonight. We work so hard, sweat is trickling down my back. As I scoop ice into a cup I take a quick sniff of my underarm.

Yep Roger needs to hurry the hell up. Did they stop for ice-cream? This is no time for a father/daughter bonding moment.

A look around the bar confirms that. Tables are full and people are standing around everywhere ready to steal tables or waiting for people to leave. The wall by the pool tables is lined with people waiting their turn. It has been a long time since I've seen Maggie Mae's this packed. I wonder to myself what could be going on in town for so many to be here. We get a lot of travelers through here since Maggie's sets right off the interstate exit, but not usually on the bar side. Most people don't stop to get drunk in a town they don't know. At least they are keeping the jukebox busy and playing good music.