“Yes.”I’d practiced this part, rehearsed what I’d say.“I’ve bartended before.A few different places over the years.I’m good with customers, I show up on time, and I’m a hard worker.”
“Where was your last job?”
The question I’d been waiting for.“A place in San Antonio.Small bar, nothing fancy.It closed down a few months back, and I’ve been moving around since then, picking up work where I can find it.”
His gaze hadn’t left my face.He was looking at me the way people looked when they were trying to see past the surface, searching for whatever you were hiding.I had seen the same look before -- from cops pulling me over for a busted taillight, from landlords asking for references I could never provide, from strangers sensing something off and failing to name the source.
“You got any references?”he asked.
“No.”I met his gaze directly.“The owner of my last place died, and I lost touch with the other employees after it closed.But I can prove I know what I’m doing if you give me a chance.”
“WhyThe Broken Spoke?”
“I need work.”Simple.Honest.“I’m new to the area and this was the first place I saw hiring.I’m not picky about where I work as long as it’s steady.”
He nodded slowly, leaving me unsure whether anything positive would come from the moment.My hands wanted to shake again, so I shoved them into my pockets.The bar felt too quiet around us, just the hum of coolers and the distant sound of traffic from the road.I’d already mapped the exits -- front door, back door through what I assumed was the kitchen, emergency exit near the restrooms.Automatic assessment, the kind I did everywhere now.
“Family in the area?”
“No.”The word landed sharper than I wanted.I tried to soften the moment through a shrug.“Just me.”
Something shifted in his expression, though I couldn’t read the meaning.He pushed off the bar and stepped behind the counter, reaching for a glass.He filled the glass from the tap and set the water in front of me.
“Drink,” he said.
I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until the glass was in my hand.I drank half before I could stop myself, the cool water cutting through the dryness in my throat.When I lifted my gaze, he still watched me, and a new intensity in his eyes replaced whatever I’d seen before.Not quite sympathy.Not quite suspicion.Something in between.
“The work’s hard.Long hours, late nights.We get a rough crowd sometimes -- bikers, locals, people passing through.You have to be able to handle yourself.”
“I can handle myself.”
“You sure about that?”The question wasn’t challenging, exactly.More like he was genuinely asking, trying to gauge whether I understood what I was signing up for.
“I’m sure.”
He studied me for another moment, then nodded.“All right.I’ll give you a trial shift.Tonight.Be here by six.I’ll show you the ropes and see how you do.If it works out, the job’s yours.”
Relief hit me so hard I nearly swayed.I caught myself, forced my expression to stay neutral even as something loosened in my chest.“Thank you.I won’t let you down.”
“We’ll see.”He came back around the bar, moving toward the door like he was ready to see me out.But he paused halfway there, turning back to look at me.“Marci?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you’re running from --” He stopped, shook his head.“Never mind.Just show up on time and we’ll be fine.”
My throat closed.He knew.Maybe not the details, maybe not the specifics, but he knew I was running.The real question was whether he cared enough to push for answers or whether he’d let the matter slide as long as I did the work.
“Six o’clock,” I managed.“I’ll be here.”
He nodded once, and I took the gesture as a dismissal.I walked to the door on unsteady legs, pushed through into the afternoon heat, and refused to let myself look back.My hands were shaking worse now, adrenaline and relief and fear all tangled together until I couldn’t separate one from the other.
But I had a job.A trial shift, at least.A chance.
I climbed into my Honda, started the engine, and sat for a moment, hands resting on the wheel.Through the window, I watched Ace move inside the bar, returning to his crates and his clipboard.He moved in a way that showed easy confidence I had forgotten existed, like he belonged exactly where he stood and nothing in the world could shake his footing.
I didn’t know if I could trust him.Didn’t know if I could trust anyone.
But I was running out of options, andThe Broken Spokewas as good a place as any to try and disappear.
