“Yeah, the other bartender.” Locke scanned the room. “He tends to stay on the floor.”
Grayson lifted his bottle and tipped it toward the bar. “They both disappeared through that door.”
“Huh.” Locke drained his beer and stood, his chair sliding back from the table. “Come on.”
Not sure what Locke’s deal was, Grayson didn’t move. “Where?”
“The bar,” he answered in a tone that indicated he questioned Grayson’s intelligence. “If Isa’s covering the bar, something’s up.” Empty bottle in hand, Locke turned away. He took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back. “You coming?”
Well, shit. Grayson picked up his nearly empty bottle, finished it, and then got to his feet to follow Locke to the bar. They were almost there when the back door swung open and Des walked through, his face strangely blank as he reached out to tag Isa’s arm. In the midst of preparing a drink order, the raven-haired woman stopped and turned. Whatever Des said to her had her shoulders going rigid as she tossed aside a bar towel. The two switched places, Des moving to finish up the drink order and Isa rushing through the door to the back.
Locke’s casual stroll went predatory even as a curious tension wrapped around Grayson. Something was definitely up. Des caught their arrival and made a gesture for them to wait as he served customers. They set their empties on the bar top.
It didn’t take long before Des was standing across from them and picking up the empties. “Need another?”
“Nah, we’re good, thanks.” Locke lifted his chin to indicate where Isa had gone. “Everything all right?”
Des tossed the bottles into a bin, and the sharp clash of glass against glass rang out. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Undaunted, Locke kept at the man. “That nothing sure lit a fire under Isa’s ass.”
“Maybe give said ass a break, yeah?” Des folded his thick arms as he glared at Locke. His dark gaze went to Grayson. “No offense, Don Juan, but you might want to try your luck somewhere else tonight.”
“Okay, Des, cut the shit,” Locke said. “What’s going on? Is there something we can help with?”
Des studied the Hound for a long minute, ignoring the flashes of light that burst like fireflies from the order-display rune embedded in the counter. Concluding his internal debate, he eventually exhaled and grimaced. “As much as I appreciate the offer, this isn’t something you can help with unless you want to clear tables.”
Grayson was as surprised as Des when Locke took the bartender’s suggestion seriously. “If that’s what you need, I can do that.”
A small curve hit Des’s mouth, easing some of the hard edges. He turned to Grayson. “That go for you too?”
Since his early twenties had included working the casino bars in Vegas, it was an easy ask. Besides, he was curious. He shrugged. “If you need the help, sure.”
“Right. Meet me at the pass. I’ll get you set up.”
Grayson followed Locke to the end of the bar, while Des took the same path behind the tall counter, stopping here and there to touch base with patrons. At the pass, Des gave them a quick rundown of the floor, handed them aprons and dish bins, then set them loose. The next few hours were spent clearing tables and helping the two servers.
He kept his eyes peeled for Cass, but she never came back. Isa made a couple of appearances to talk to Des before going back, presumably to be with Cass. The first time Isa came out, she did a double take when she spotted Locke out on the floor, but that was the only look she spared the man. The routine of working the floor was interrupted only once, when Des was busy hustling drinks and a well-lubricated guest was intent on creating a scene. Grayson and Locke set aside their aprons to escort him from the premises and into a rideshare, then it was back to the floor.
Eventually, the door closed behind the last customer. The two young servers settled up with Des while Locke and Grayson upended chairs on tables. Grayson laid his apron on the bar as the door to the back swung open and Cass stepped through. Isa was on her heels, speaking. Her voice was low, but he still caught the tail end of their conversation.
“No way you’re staying with those vultures, Cass. It’s bad enough you’re going to have to deal with their crap on your own.”
Gone was the vibrant woman from earlier, and in her place stood a wan, red-eyed, and—based on the stubborn angle of her chin—determined female. “Not like I have a choice, Iz. We’ve got commitments to keep, like the band coming in on Thursday, and then there’s that…” She pulled up short when her gaze hit him and Locke. “That other thing you took on,” she finished. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, ignoring the strange undercurrents swirling between the two women.
Locke came up beside him and dropped his apron on top of Grayson’s.
Cass watched with a small frown. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Locke got there first. “What’s going on?”
Cass looked away, and her shoulders hunched. Behind her, Isa and Des shared a look.
Des finally answered, “Cass’s grandmother passed, and she needs to get to Vegas.”
Grayson checked his watch, noting that it was closing in on midnight. “Are there flights heading out this late?”
“No, we checked,” Isa answered. “The next one leaves at five fifteen in the morning.”
