Page 86 of Wicked Tricks

We pushed open the heavy wooden door and the noise got even louder. We were not the usual clientele of JoJo’s, and it was filled with middle aged men and younger guys, even some suburban-looking families who had decided to try it out as a place to eat. They did a decent meal for a pub, but it wasn’t often that you would see people returning just for the food.

This little country-style pub was a palette cleanser for us, a change of scenery from the dim and dark scene of Lilith’s. We stepped into JoJo’s and felt like we stepped into a small suburban town rather than smack bang in the middle of a grey city.

Jenna smiled from behind the bar, waving at us.

“Hi girlies,” she smiled wide, “the usuals?”

“Tequila,” Bea said dramatically, pounding her fist on the bar.

Jenna laughed and nodded knowingly, and pulled out the shot glasses from under the bar, “rough night?”

Bea pouted dramatically and threw her arm around me, “RoRo is in love,” she leant her head against my shoulder.

“Fuck off,” I pulled away from her.

“Really?” Jenna asked, raising an eyebrow while she skillfully filled the glasses without spilling a drop.

Jenna was like another adopted mother to Bea and I. She was probably only in her forties, but her straight blonde hair was slightly fading to a grey, and she had been our counsellor-slash-bartender ever since we started at Lilith’s. She was often opening for the day as we finished for the night - and that worked out fine for all of us.

We would gather here after our shifts, and tell Jenna all about the idiots we had dealt with the night before. She would give us advice, which was often much warmer than that of Diana’s - who had rightfully earned her nickname of the Ice Queen, and wouldn’t entertain any moping over men.

Jenna was much more maternal in that sense - probably because she was a mother, and she ran JoJo’s with her husband and son, both named Jo. She would hold our hands, cry with us, stroke our hair if we needed comfort.

“I am not in love,” I snapped, “drop it,” I glared at Bea.

“Is this about Antoni?” Jenna asked quietly, and Bea nodded.

I threw my hands in the air, “so noweveryoneknows? Thanks Beanca.”

Tossing back my shot, I then snatched Bea’s from her hand and downed that one too.

Her jaw dropped, “bitch!”

Jenna poured two more and slipped one to Bea quickly before I could reach for it.

“Ah!” I groaned as the tequila burned my throat and sat wrong in my stomach. I didn’t remember the last time I had eaten something of substance, but I also wasn’t game to order food and tempt fate.

“That’s karma right there,” Bea mumbled before she took her shot.

“Tell me what happened,” Jenna said, leaning across the bar towards me.

“Nothing happened!” I snapped, “I don’t know why everyone is so fucking insistent on making a big deal out of this. He was a mark. Diana gave me a job, I completed the job, the job is over. Done.”

“Yeah, because you mope in your room for days after every job,” Bea rolled her eyes.

“What?” Jenna asked with wide eyes, “moping?”

“Oh piss off, I told you that I just wasn’t feeling well.”

“Rome!” Bea yelled, slamming her second shot back, and turning in her seat to face me, “why do you always do that? Who are you hiding from right now?” she gestured to the vacant space around us.

I looked down at the bar, fiddling with the empty shot glass before sliding it across the bar so Jenna could refill it.

“You think you’re fooling me?” she asked, getting close into my face, not letting me ignore her, “You don’t have to put up the tough Rome Dawson shit around me. You obviously like this guy, just say it!”

I was silent.

Jenna met my eyes for a second, before looking away and busying herself by pouring us more drinks - not wanting to get any more involved. Bea sighed and turned away from me, shaking her head.

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