Rolling my eyes skyward, I stood up straight, shoulders back so that my boobs stood at attention, and pulled my long, brunette locks, over my shoulder.
“That’s it. Now work those baby blues of yours!”
I blinked rapidly, emphasizing my eyes.
“Go get ’em,” she called just before moving farther down the bar to make a drink for a patron that’d just entered.
Spinning around, I grabbed one of the circular trays I carried the drinks and plates of food on, when ordered, ignoring the growing voices of the men catcalling Trinity as she danced on stage. I could tell at what point of her set she was on by how loud the cheers were.
Soon enough the door opened and a group of about ten guys pushed through, moving past the bouncers. Inhaling deeply, I braced myself before heading over, but I stopped short when I recognized the leader of the group.
“Shit!” I cursed, wishing at that moment, I wasn’t the only cocktail waitress on shift tonight. But unfortunately, MaryAnne, the other waitress, had called out sick.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I took a deep breath and made my way over to the four tables the guys had chosen, right in the center of the club. The stage was front and center from their view, but my back was to the woman on stage as I greeted the men, many of whom I recognized.
“Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get started for you?” I questioned, pulling my notepad and pencil from my hip where I’d tucked them earlier.
“Deborah?”
My heart sank a little, at the almost gleeful tone I heard in Jack Lassiter’s voice.
I turned. “Jack. How nice to see you here. What can I get for you?”
“I decided to treat the guys to a night out to celebrate my twenty-first birthday. Fucking California and its legal drinking age bullshit.”
I had to fight hard not to roll my eyes. I didn’t care why Jack or his friends were out that night. But, of course, he continued.
“Damn liberals are destroying the country with their nonsense. Look at all of the protests and upheaval they’ve caused—”
“It sucks, but I assume you’re all here to have a good time tonight, right? So what can I get started for you all?” For some reason my gaze shifted from Jack to the guys he’d come in with. I relaxed slightly when I didn’t see one in particular. Although, truth be told, I would’ve known immediately if Robert Townsend was with them. He didn’t blend in like the rest of these guys. And even if he wasn’t making a loud showing of himself, like Jack obviously needed to, his presence was still felt.
Why the hell I was thinking about Robert, or why I was grateful he wasn’t with them that night, I didn’t know.
“I’ll have the best beer you have on tap,” Jack finally answered. “And get these guys whatever they want.” He pulled out a wad of money.
Again, I had to force myself not to show what I was thinking. Instead, I scribbled down in my notepad the orders from the guys who’d come in with Jack before departing as quickly as possible.
First, I brought the food orders to the back, giving them to the head chef so he could get started, then I took the drink orders behind the bar. I worked alongside Pia to prepare the drinks. Technically, I wasn’t a bartender, but after a few years in that place, I could make drinks almost as well as Pia or any of the other bartenders. And since we were short staffed that night, she was thankful for the help.
“I can’t stand that guy,” I finally said out loud.
“Who?”
I gestured with my chin toward Jack. “He goes to Stanford. They all do. I’ve seen them on campus. Anyway, he’s a real ass.”
“Yeah, but he’s a paying ass tonight. Just keep ’em liquored up. Drunk customers give the best tips.” Pia winked at me as she added the final drink onto my drink.
I laughed. She was right. I didn’t take this job to make friends. I took it for the money.
“Whoa!” one of the men shouted as he backed up, nearly knocking me over in his excitement. A new dancer had come to the stage and she was entertaining the hell out of the crowd.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I began placing the drinks in front of the different men who’d ordered them, thankful for my sharp memory. “Your food will be out shortly, guys,” I stated, ready to depart, but my wrist was caught in someone’s grip, causing me to turn back to the group.
I came chest to chest with Jack Lassiter.
Without thought, I yanked my wrist free and was ready to tell him to keep his damn hands to himself. But then I remembered I was at work. He wasn’t the first customer to get a little too touchy feely.
