Page 6 of Christmas Rings

Even me, she thought, as she dabbed a wet spot on the side of one of the martini glasses. She might not be as smart or ambitious as her sisters, but she had a calling. Those little ones in her class, especially the ones from families struggling financially, inspired her to bring her all every single day. The foundation she gave them would take them through their whole lives. Someday, she would look back and know she’d impacted the world in her small way.

She lifted the tray of martinis, thanking Rif, and headed back to Marsh and his companions. At the table, she placed the extra dirty one next to the dirty old man, careful not to get close enough that his hand could grab her bottom. She set the other two martinis in front of the generic suit guys, then gave the last one to Marsh.

“That’s a balancing act,” Marsh said, gesticulating toward her tray. “My family appreciates your care. We think every drop of our vodka is precious.” He said this with a self-deprecating smile that matched his vocal tone. She liked him, this handsome Marsh, with his kind eyes and good manners. There was a quality about him, perhaps the precise way he moved and his squared shoulders, that reminded her of another era. A time when men kept their eyes focused on a woman’s face instead of her chest.

The others at the table? Not so much. At times like this, she wanted to grab the nearest jacket and slip it over her shoulders.

No whining, she told herself. This was the only way to help Sophie.

She smiled sweetly and asked if they’d like anything else.

“We’re good for now,” Marsh said. “Thank you.”

They exchanged a quick smile before she scooted off to the next table. The rest of the night passed quickly. Jed Marsh and his friends stayed for another round of drinks before leaving around midnight. As expected, Marsh paid the bill. She smiled to see the thirty percent tip he left her.

After closing time, she counted her tips at the bar, while Rif and Marty cleaned and put away glasses and mugs. It had been a good night. The dancers were always wound up by the end of the night, so those who didn’t have to be home right away were enjoying a cocktail at one of the empty tables. She would have expected them to be too tired to talk, but they chatted away about this and that. Alissa was too tired to even listen but enjoyed the familiar cadence of their voices and their laughter.

“Jed Marsh asked about you,” Rif said.

“He did?” She cringed at the high-pitched schoolgirl tone of her words.

“I told him you were single,” Rif said. “But that you’re one of a kind and perfect, so if he’s interested, he has to prove his worthiness first.”

“Rif, you didn’t?”

“If he’s worth his salt, then he’ll rise to the challenge,” Rif said, shrugging.

“Who exactly does he have to prove his worth to?” Alissa smiled, knowing the answer.

“Me, for one,” Rif said. “I can’t have him waltzing in here and thinking he can take you out just because he’s rich.”

“Me, for two,” Marty said.

“And what does this dog and pony show look like?” Her grandmother, Nan, used that phrase, and it always made Alissa laugh, imagining a dog and a pony dancing a jig.

“I told him what’s necessary,” Rif said. “The first step is flowers, with a request for a dinner date. I made sure he understood you would not be picked up so that he could murder you in his car.”

“Rif, I don’t think he’s a murderer,” Alissa said, laughing.

“Until we know for sure, you will meet him at the restaurant.”

“He hasn’t even asked me out yet.”

“If he does as asked, there will be flowers and a card delivered here tomorrow,” Rif said. “We’ll wait and see.”

“You two probably scared him away.”

“So, you would go out with him?” Marty asked.

“I mean, I guess so. He’s cute and has exceptional manners. Other than the goon he was with, he seemed nice.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rif said.

Alissa gathered her bills and blew both men a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” They really were the dearest, sweetest guys around, even though they were ridiculously overprotective of her and the dancers. She could remember her father being that way too, joking that she wouldn’t be allowed to date until she was thirty.

In the dressing room, she peeled her uniform from her tired body and pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt. Rif had a rule that they were not to walk to their cars alone. Millie was ready to go, thankfully.

“Let’s do it, girl,” Millie said. “I could sleep for a week.”

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