Chapter seventeen
Don't Quit Your Day Job
Roxy
The sun blinded me as I stepped out of my motel room. I didn’t have sunglasses, so I quickly locked my door and headed downstairs to the parking lot. I hadn’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning all night until I had just given up—worrying about the saloon and what the fuck Cactus’s problem was.
Ignoring the urge to check my phone, I stopped on the sidewalk, tilting my head back to soak in the sun. I wasn’t his keeper, and if he texted, I’d answer when I had a free moment. A catcall came from somewhere behind me.Of course. Perfect timing, assholes.It was a good reminder that I couldn’t depend on a man.
Nothing good could come from trying to figure out last night. I was an outsider, and once I was gone, he wouldn’t have to worry about how I was going to disrupt their quiet lives. I’d been a fool. Whatever shift I thought was happening was just a figment of my imagination.
My phone beeped, begging to be checked, but I shoved the urge down deep. I wouldn’t get giddy over a good-morning text. If he asked me how I was, I would respond cordially. It was a little girl’s fairytale dream to have her knight come to her rescue. I had taken a small leap of faith when I had asked about the fight, but when he couldn’t answer, that had sealed my fate. I wouldn’t ask again.
As I opened the back door to the saloon, my phone vibrated against my ass. Ignoring it, I called out into the kitchen. The stainless-steel countertops shone under the lights. The kitchen staff always kept things clean, but this was something else. Sticking my head in between the two prep rows, I checked to make sure I had missed no one.
Pushing open the swinging door that blocked the kitchen from the dining room, I called out again.
“There she is,” Aces sang. He was sitting on the bar, dangling his legs over the edge.
“No one wants to eat where your ass has been,” I said.
No one would have ever known there had been a bar fight here last night. Someone had painted the walls in the dining room a fresh hunter green, bold against the polished trim. The bar shone, and I didn’t see any sticky residue. In fact, it sparkled in the light as if someone had added a couple of coats of varnish.
The splintered furniture was gone, but nothing new had replaced it. The surviving tables and chairs stood against the far wall. I wasn’t sure if we had enough to fill the dining room for service.
“They had to order new ones. They’ll be here later this afternoon, which is why we’re hanging out.” Eights was sitting in the chair closest to where I stood. The rest of the Saints were situated around the room. Some played on their phones, while others napped.
I nodded at Eights, before leaning against the bar, biting back what I really wanted to say. “Did you work all night?” I asked Aces.
“Yeah. Had to make sure none of you had anything to bitch about.” He flexed a few times, like he had done all the work himself.
“Don’t listen to him. We hired a cleaning crew. They did most of this, but it was a late night.” Eights came up behind me. “How are you?”
“Okay.” I kept my head up, shoulders back. “Is there anything I should do?”
“Nope.” Aces’ legs swung, and I wanted to put my hand on his knee to stop them. I didn’t, knowing he’d get the wrong idea.
“Have you started working on my car? I’ve been trying to call, but you must be busy, since you never answer.”
“Nope, I’ve been ignoring you.”
I tried to keep my cool, but I really wanted to yell and scream at him. “Why would you do that?”
“You’ve got a crack in your radiator, and I don’t have the part. That’s not very customer-friendly.” He shrugged. “Besides, I can’t get yelled at for telling you something you don’t want to hear if I don’t tell you at all.”
“Do you know how much it’s going to be?” I tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be expensive.
“You shouldn’t quit your day job, but you could pay it off another way.”
I watched a smirk form on his lips. It didn’t click until he made a hand motion at Eights behind me. I’d rather stay in town than pay on my knees. It wasn’t even funny, and when I caught the look on Eights’s face behind me, he clearly didn’t think it was amusing either.
“You’re disgusting. You sure you shouldn’t have ridden out with the Disciples? They’d be just your type.” I started to walk away before turning around to face them again. “Besides, I prefer to be in charge.”
The front door opened, and Lulu walked in with fancy coffees, ending the conversation.
***
A supplier had already delivered the glassware, and the boxes were lined up in front of the bar. I desperately wanted to be helpful, opening the flap of the top box—salt and pepper shakers.
