“He’s my bartender?” Becca asked, because no. No way was Linx her bartender.
“Yup,” Brek said, thwarting any idea she had to talk him out of this.
She turned her attention to Linx. He pulled off his current t-shirt, exposing an expanse of cut abdominal muscles that made her really wish they’d connected off stage the other night.
Unfortunately, the view didn’t last long because he tugged on the Brek’s Bar tee immediately.
“Have you ever tended bar?” she asked.
He futzed with the apron. The guy could play a bazillion instruments, but he was unable to tie it behind his back. “Nope.”
Becca saved him by grabbing the strings and tying them. “Aren’t you worried he’ll screw up orders?”
Brek nodded. “Pretty much. But I need the booth, and this yahoo needs something to do.”
Well, itwasa bar and therewasa stage and Linxwasa rocker… perhaps there was a better solution? But before Becca could speak up about that obvious solution, Linx and Brek were already in a huddle about how to pull a beer without getting too much head.
There was the obvious snicker from Linx because he was Linx.
“Okay. This is fine.” Becca splayed her hands out in front of her. “We will be fine. I can bartend. Linx will wait tables.”
Linx glanced to her. “That’s a negative. Tens come in. If I’m recognized, a bouncer will have to follow me around. No one wants that.”
“It’s true.” Brek crossed his muscled arms. “No one wants that.”
“You don’t think you’ll be recognized here?” Becca asked.
Linx pointed to the bouncer. “This is where he stands, anyway.”
It took two-point-five seconds for Becca to realize that’s why Linx had picked the booth. It was closest to the bouncer. It wasn’t a fluke he’d selected that seat.
Of course, it wasn’t.
“This is going to be a nightmare.” She rubbed at her temples. Her tight ponytail suddenly tugged her scalp too tight.
Linx draped his arm around her shoulders. Totally natural, like this was what they did. She did her best not to think too hard about the sensations ricocheting throughout her body.
She failed.
Thus, the green flag waved, and they were off. Given that it was Friday night, and given that the band had grown in popularity, and given that word had quickly gotten around that Linx was slinging beer—the bar was packed. The bottoms of Becca’s feet burned from the number of times she’d done her rounds of the place.
Brek brought in more security on the fly to handle the number of patrons shoved into the small bar. He placed several security guards near Linx. Brek also had a dodgy smile plastered on his face that had her wondering if he’d planned the whole thing from the beginning. He totally raked in the dough.
Then again, so did she. Her tips were phenomenal.
Even after she gave Linx his cut, she’d walk away that night with plenty of extra.
Perhaps the burn in her arches wasn’tthatbad.
“Becca.” Linx caught her attention as she finished the latest round. “Brek says we’ve gotta take fifteen.”
No. It couldn’t possibly be time for her break. She pulled out her cell and glanced at the screen. Damn. It was time.
Past time.
She gave a quick nod before giving a briefing to her relief waitress.
Brek kept a break area behind the kitchen. Nothing fancy—just a little room with a chipped wooden table and a small counter big enough to hold a Keurig, microwave, and a dorm-sized fridge. Velma stocked a little basket hung on the wall with snacks, too, so that was nice. Becca mentioned off-hand once she liked the salsa flavored Sun Chips, and they’d been included ever since. The best part of the room wasn’t the Sun Chips though. The room was removed enough from the front of the house that they could make phone calls or talk with the others who were taking a breather without yelling over the noise of the bar.
