Page 13 of Betting Blind
My best friend playfully wiggles his brows at me, nodding his head toward Cassidy.
“Earth to Jack?” Her face pops up inches from mine and her scent once again clouds my senses.
The scowl I had aimed in Derrick’s direction melts away. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”
She crosses her arms, underlining those perfect breasts, and for a beat, I shift my gaze down and back up. A deep flush spreads across her porcelain skin. “What exactly am I going to be doing?”
“You’ll be in charge of food and drink orders. Should be easy enough considering it’s what you do for a living.” Her eyes narrow into tiny slits and I elbow her lightly.
So fun to tease.
“You’ll collect drinks from the bartop there.” I point to the busiest part of the bar. “And you can place all your orders in the computer over there.” She follows the tip of my finger to the bright screen of the POS.
I give her a quick rundown on the flow of things here, assuring her that the folks have a lot more bark than bite. The guys who work here were handpicked by me and while it gets rough in here sometimes, the fellas are moral, hardworking men who will respect Cassidy, if for no other reason than that I asked them to.
Cassidy nods, and I can see her strategizing and mulling through her new routine in her mind. She’s going to be a fast learner, but this isn’t anything she shouldn’t already know from Margie’s. Aside from the updated software, it’s pretty cut and dry. She scans the room, studying everyone in the building, unaware that she’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She places her hands inside the pockets of my jacket, and an unfamiliar sensation sparks to life in my chest. “Okay, let’s do this.”
I’m not at all surprised by the set of her jaw as she gathers the thick length of her hair into a ponytail and jumps right into the thick of things.
It’s been almost thirty minutes since I’ve stepped aside to let her work, and I press my back up against the thick wooden bartop to watch her.
She holds her shoulders back as she moves fluidly in, out, and around people. At first, she’s almost too rigid, but she starts to relax when Jimmy, one of our regulars, shakes her hand and welcomes her. Her smile is warm and inviting as she turns the heads of some of the toughest guys on this side of town.
Given her jitters the first time she came to The Pound, I figured there would be some push back on her end when I gave her the specifics of the job. Instead, I’m mesmerized watching her bounce from table to table, gifting smiles and laughs to everyone she meets.
All while wearing my jacket.
Not everyone is so welcoming, though. Some eye her suspiciously, sneering at her even, and then they turn toward me as if to say, “What the hell is this chick doing here, Jack?”
The only response I have for their questioning gazes is a shrug, because hell if I know, but I’m surprisingly happier about it than I thought I’d be.
Chapter 7
Cassidy
“Whew!” I throw myself into one of the chairs at a table closest to the bar. It screeches loudly from the force of my weight as it slides backward. It’s well past midnight, and I’m exhausted from running my ass off. Even with my good sneakers on, my feet are screaming. I’m going to have to invest in another pair; maybe some gel insoles, too.
I let my head fall back and close my eyes for a moment, only to be startled by the sound of a glass pilsner slamming onto the table. My eyes burst back open to see a pool of beer forming around the base of the glass as Derrick smirks at me.
He nods his blond head toward the carbonated gift. “Don’t get too comfortable. You and Jack get to mop.” I grab the beer and chug half of it before swiping the back of my hand against my mouth.
Jack doesn’t look up from his spot at the bar where he’s busy organizing glassware, but I know he heard Derrick by the way the muscle in his cheek clenches. The place doesn’t close for another hour, but the kitchen has quit for the night and apparently, mopping is left to the closers.
“You don’t have people for that?” The thought of standing on my feet for another hour, cleaning floors for God knows how long, has me questioning my stamina.
Derrick laughs lightly, worming his way over to my good side. Now that I’m getting to know him, I’m beginning to enjoy his bantering. “Youarethe people, honey.”
After tossing back the rest of my beer, I let him drag me to my feet. “Atta girl. You’ll come to learn that we all share different responsibilities around here. We do the mopin’, we bus our own tables, we clean the glasses at the bar… you get it.”
I suppose I can respect that. Now that there aren’t as many patrons milling about, I yank my tank top up a smidge, zip up my borrowed jacket, and force my tired feet to shuffle toward the kitchen. All the dishes used for food have been cleaned and presented in neat rows next to a large stainless-steel sink, and beside that is the dishwasher. The gentle hum coming from the machine echoes around the sterile, empty kitchen.
The hairs on my arms stand on end as I walk through the frigid air to retrieve a yellow bucket with two old mops leaning against the side of the sink. I carry the bucket over to the faucet and reach forward to turn on the hot water. Steam rises as I squirt some of the soap I found into the hot water, and bubbles begin forming rapidly. After a few minutes have passed and Jack is nowhere to be found, I decide to pull out my earbuds, place one of the buds in my ear, and turn on some music.
The music pulses in my ear as I sway my hips back and forth. I plop the heavy mop bucket onto the floor and slosh one of the sticks around in the soapy mixture. The lyrics to the song I’m singing start as a whisper on my lips and rise gradually above the squelching noise the mop makes as it connects with the floor.
I pull the wooden handle toward my body and away, repeating the motion as I shamelessly shake my ass to an old Usher song.
This evening has been nothing short of an adrenaline rush. I was fully prepared to be chastised by these men and their faithful customers, but to my surprise, they appeared to genuinely like me. Closing my eyes, I spin, clutching the broom to my body before leading it into a seductive dip. I serenade it the whole way down, tucking pretend strands of hair behind the mop’s invisible ear.
