Page 6 of Just in Time
“Hey yourself…”I trailed off, trying to think of the most obscure first name I possibly could. “Chauncey?”
He snorted. “Chauncey? What kinda bullshit name is that?” Rawley laughed loudly, coughing a little as he put out his cigarette. “Good guess, though. I bet you’ll definitely guess it tomorrow, Buttercup.”
“Youdoknow my real name is Lily, right?” I asked, grabbing my apron from a hook behind the bar and tying it on around my waist. “Wrong flower.”
“Eh, a rose by any other name and all that shit,” he said vaguely. “You looked like a Buttercup today.”
I glanced down at my sweater, a black wool pullover with pink speckles here and there, just about as unlike a buttercup as could be. “If you say so, Rawley.”
“You’re a bright breath of fresh air in this old place. You’re a buttercup, now shut up about it and if you please… bring me round two?”
I smirked and reached for a tray. “What are you drinking today? A little of that top shelf Pinot?”
He snorted out a laugh at my joke and nodded. “Yeah, baby. You bring me some of that, see what kinda tip you get.”
I laughed and motioned towards Johnny behind the bar. He started pouring another draft for Rawley and slid it down the length of the bar to me. I grabbed it and carried it over to his table.
“You leaving early tonight?” Johnny asked, motioning towards the front window and the sky outside. “New moon?”
“Yeah, I have a meeting with my circle,” I replied. “Sorry about—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving off my protests. “It’s Tuesday. Ain’t nobody comes in here after ten anyway.”
Johnny was related in some way to Jolene, but I never did figure out how. And now, I’d been working here for so long, it felt rude to ask.
He was middle aged with a paunch from drinking near as much beer as he sold, but Jolene apparently liked him. He didn’t get fresh with the waitstaff or clientele, and even I had to admit he had a steady pouring hand.
He was the one who taught me everything I knew about mixing drinks. But I’d like to meet the sorry S.O.B who dared call Johnny Martin a mixologist.
Jolene wasn’t anywhere to be found, which meant she was likely back in the office watching the news and eating some kind of takeout.
I glanced out the front window just in time to see Brody as he walked past on his way up to the apartment. He glanced inside and caught my gaze, smiling and waving briskly as he made his way to our door. He’d come by later with my dinner, most likely. I got a half hour break unless I was working a double and I got an hour. But if it was slow, I was allowed to sit and talk with him as long as my tables were taken care of.
My shift went on like it usually did. Brody swung by around seven-thirty with a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes. There was also sweet tea and bread, which I ate while he sat with me at one of the back booths.
He kept grimacing, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He was also a helluva lot more quiet than he’d been that afternoon.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, reaching out to cover his hand with mine.
“Nothing, babe…” he assured me with a weak smile. “Just feeling a little off.”
“Want me to call the doctor in the morning?” I asked. “The flu’s going around, from what I hear.”
“I don’t get sick like that,” he reminded me gently, pulling my hand up to his lips. “But if you want to for your peace of mind, I’ll go wherever you want.”
“Just try and rest up tonight,” I said. “I’ll check on you again when I get home from my meeting.”
“You’ll check on me, huh? What happened to waking me up when you got home?” He smiled in that roguish way he had that made me weak in the knees. Apparently he wasn’t feeling so ‘off’ that he was going to forget our plans for the evening. Evening/early morning.
“Oh, so you’re feeling up to that, huh?”
“I’m always feeling up to that,” he said, lowering his voice slightly so no one else could hear. “I’m counting down the minutes, Lil.”
I had to bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from visibly shivering. His voice. It did things to me. Did things to certain parts of me that had no business being engaged while I was working.
The rest of my shift went by without much of a hitch, other than a cash register snafu that almost made me late for my meeting. It would have, honestly, if Jolene hadn’t pushed me bodily out the door with the instructions to quote ‘get my little ass where I needed to be and let them handle it’.
I had to laugh a little as I made my way down the darkened sidewalk to my mother’s shop. I reached back to pull the hair tie out of my hair, letting it in all its frizzy glory fly free.
