“Jesus, Jordan, have you been stalking me?” To his credit, Jordan never broke eye contact. However, I wasn't used to the pissed off glare he shot my way, and I held up my hands in surrender. “Hey, you have to admit, it's a valid question. How else would you know there's been a specific car outside my apartment?”
Jordan practically bounced on his seat. “Well, I didn't, but now I do. So, tell me all about it. He wound up coming back yesterday?”
“There's nothing to tell,” I lied. Even if I was the type to kiss and tell, I wouldn’t have made a big deal about it. Whatever was happening with Jack was still far too fragile for me to go blabbing about, especially knowing Jordan's complete inability to keep secrets from his partners.
“So, did the two of you know one another before he gave you a ride home from our place the other night?” Oh, Jordan was getting good at needling for information. He'd obviously spent far too much time with Eli.
“No.” I figured it to be easier to give Jordan a little bit to go on and hope that Eli showed up before he could try to draw every raunchy detail out of me. There were still things I didn't fully understand myself, so I wasn't about to try to explain what was going on to Jordan. “He stuck around that night because he was afraid that I was going to choke on my own vomit and die. Can't blame a guy for not wanting that on his conscience.”
Jordan just scrunched his nose in disgust. “That has got to be one of the grossest visuals ever.”
“You're the one who asked.” I stood on the bottom rung of the stool, reaching across the bar for a glass. Jordan looked like he was about to say something when I reached for the soda gun and poured myself a cup of water.
Jordan's brow furrowed and he tipped his head to the side again. “I don't know what Jack did to you, but he needs to keep it up.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re…different. You're not nearly as grumpy as you used to be, and you have more color today.”
Funny how not starving yourself changed things. I kept that to myself as well, not wanting another lecture about my dietary habits or my reluctance to ask for help. I checked the time on my phone. “So, when do you expect Eli?”
Jordan checked the time and tapped away at his phone. “He’s just about to head down now. You want me to hang with you a bit longer?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” I assured him. It wouldn’t make a good impression on Eli if his partner/star employee was slacking off when he should be working. And it was far more important to me now, than it had ever been before, to make good impressions on people who might be able to help me. Even if I’d sworn I didn’t want their help.
My stomach flipped when I heard the back-door slam shut. There were very few people allowed to use the alley entrance and, given the fact Jordan had said Eli would be here soon, there was little doubt whose heavy footfalls were stomping toward me. The friendly smile Eli gave me, as he extended a hand to shake, nearly knocked me off my stool. This wasn’t the version of Eli I was used to. As a business owner, he was always friendly with his customers, but he had little time for those who posed a threat to his success. I had always imagined I was in the latter category, because Club 83 had been one of my favorite hunting grounds for the next hook up.
“Slade,” he greeted me with a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you. Jordan said you were hoping to talk to me?”
I dipped my chin and twirled my hair around my finger. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I dropped my hand back to my lap. My heart raced and my stomach churned. Despite everyone telling me all I had to do to get a job here was talk to Eli, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of all the different ways I could screw up this interview.
“Yeah, I was hoping… I mean… Shit…” I blew out a harsh breath and scrubbed a hand over my face. I was doing a stellar job of selling myself as a competent addition to his staff.
Eli pressed a hand to my shoulder. “Relax, boy.”
Hearing the endearment from Eli didn’t have the same effect it did when Jack called me boy. And, yet, it did settle me in a way I hadn’t expected. Grounded me. Reminded me that Jack’s approval was one of my motivations for dragging my ass down here today.
“Sorry, this isn’t…” What’d I even want to say? Did I want to admit to him that burying my pride and begging him for a job was about as much fun as a root canal? That probably wouldn’t serve me well. I closed my eyes and imagined Jack guiding me through a series of breathing exercises. When my heart rate slowed and my brain started firing properly again, I started over. “Sorry. I know I probably shouldn’t be nervous, but I don’t have a lot of experience trying to get a job. I don’t have experience but, I promise, I can be a hard worker.”
“There’s nothing to worry about here,” Eli assured me. “I understand that you’ve been plenty busy with music until recently. Would it help you to pretend I am the owner of a bar and you’re trying to get me to hire you for a gig? You may not have much conventional work experience, but I know from some other owners in the area that you don’t put up with any shit when you’re negotiating show dates and fees. That’s part of why I was hoping you’d come and see me.”
I had to chuckle because, when he put it that way, I did feel more confident. And, really, this wasn’t all that much different. Sure, I wouldn’t be standing on stage, screaming out angry lyrics over the guitar and drum lines, but hewasthe bar owner. The only difference was the “gig”, as he put it.
I sat up a bit straighter and turned to face Eli. He gave me a reassuring nod. “Thank you, Eli. I promise I’m not always this scatterbrained.”
This time, it was Eli who laughed, and he squeezed my shoulder again. “Don’t bullshit me, Slade. I’ve heard plenty about you and I’ve seen you around enough to know this is exactly who you usually are. But I’m still willing to take a chance on you.”
“Why? It’s not like I have any skills you need,” I questioned.
Way to go,self-doubt lectured me.Why don’t you just start listing up all the reasons he’d be a fool to hire you?
“You have one skill I most definitely need,” Eli corrected me. “You’re good with people.”
“I’m really not,” I disagreed.
Eli scowled at me. “Would you let me finish?”
My shoulders slumped forward. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Go on. I won’t interrupt again.”
