“They work alone?”
“Does anyone work alone?”
“Not sure. You’re the one telling the story,” I offer, making my way back to where they were sitting. Someone’s already taken the tenner and the knife they left. Reaching over the bar, I grab the cleaning spray and a rag to wipe the table before going back to serving the customers waiting for a drink.
The general lack of concern from those waiting suggests what happened today isn’t the first time they’ve seen people pulling weapons or being walked out.
Once everyone has fresh pints, and I’ve delivered plates of hot chips, Walsh flicks his head, calling me over again. “Handled yourself alright.”
I smile instead of remarking at his lack of heroics. Though I suspect today was a test for me too.
“I’ve taken the tenner off your wages since you were being so generous.”
“Of course.”
As if that wasn’t coming. But if I’m told to do dirty work, it’s on my terms, plus I was hoping they’d take their money and leave. It’s the pacifist in me.
“Maybe got something for you, if you’re interested.”
Wow, color me surprised—itwasa test. Which, of course, I passed. I’ll pass each and every one set, too, because I need an in to where the real action happens.
I lean against the side wall so I can watch the bar but also so I can listen to Walsh.
“A friend needs a couple of bar staff for a private function.”
“Does this impact my shifts here, because I need money.” I overemphasis needing money, and he falls for it hook, line, and sinker.
His smile shifts from boss to something else. Like we share something outside of here now. “Well, lucky for you, I do the roster here, and I’m sure I can make it so you’re not working. The other job is cash in hand, and they like to reward staff that do good by them with hefty bonuses.”
I’m nodding my head before he finishes speaking.
“Let’s see how you do this week. All going well, next Wednesday night at eight, you’ll be busy, if you get me.”
I’d much rather know the details now and make my own way, but that’s not going to happen. Not until I have his trust, anyway.
I lean close, conspiratorially. “Do I have to take precautions beforehand?”
He shakes his head, already guessing what I mean. “If you’re talking blockers or that scent shit, don’t do it. You’ll get paid extra for your effort and all.”
“Interesting. What would I have to wear?” There’s no way I’m getting my tits out for any job. Evidence, be damned.
He looks me up and down, like he’s the king of It. Flicking his eyebrows up suggestively, he asks, “You trust me to get something together for you?”
I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove. “As long as I’m not exposing myself, go for it.”
He pretends to look offended. “What kind of establishment do you think I’m talking about?”
“One that pays cash, apparently.” I smile, acting coy and a little dopey in case he’s rethinking himself. “So, I take it lots of Alphas will be there? I’m not packed, and because I’m not, I don’t want to be put in a shitty situation. I mean, I trust you wouldn’t do that to me, but at the same time, you know what Alphas are like sometimes.”
“Look, how about if it all works out, and you do the job, I’ll keep an eye out for you. It’s not a given you got the work, though. Let me think it out.”
“Yeah, no worries. I completely understand. But I really appreciate you even considering me, Walsh. And that thing about watching over me, perhaps I could split some of what I earn with you—if I do the job, of course. Seems only fair.”
Sometimes I truly astound myself. I manage to schmooze him without pulling a face because of the rising bile in my throat. I know his type. Opportunistic predator. Luckily, I'm somewhat of an opportunistic person too.
Our conversation gets stalled by a group entering the pub. Which is good. I don’t want to appear too eager, just enough. By the time I’ve finished pulling their pints, putting their food order in with the kitchen, and I’ve done a walk through the main room to clean tables and collect glasses, Walsh has left.
The lunchtime rush abruptly comes to an end, and Johnny, as stand-in manager, finishes me up early with a promise to find a couple of extra hours for me. I manage to drop into our chat another complaint about not having enough money, only adding to my story, since he knows I got stitched on my accommodation.
