Page 3 of Waiting on Life
“I’ll be there as quick as I can. And, Cary? Thank you for calling me.”
I disconnected and turned to grab some things for work, when tiny little claws on my leg and loud crying reminded me I hadn’t done my duty. If anyone at the bar saw this shit, they’d die laughing. Toby Tomlinson being browbeaten by a kitten not much older than a few months. I dropped the dish on the floor, grinning when Waldo pounced on it, then hurried to grab my bag in case I needed some last-minute deodorant or anything.
In the fifteen minutes it took me to get to the bar, utter chaos had descended. There was a line waiting for drinks, and none too patiently. Cary was putting them up faster than I would have thought possible, but he was alone and sure as hell couldn’t do a two-man job by himself.
I slipped behind the bar and called out to let people know they could come down by me. The first one in line began bitching about the wait. The volume of the crowd rose, with many complaints about how long they’d been in line and why they had to wait.
“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” I roared. “Cary did his best to serve you, and you should be on your fucking knees thanking him for holding it together. Now, if you’re that upset, you know where the door is and you’re welcome to use it. If you’re going to be decent and give us a bit of time to get to you, then stand there, shut up, and let us get to work.”
The patrons went dead silent and no one moved. I went to the guy who’d started complaining and took his order, then got it up for him in a few moments. That started the lines moving. In thanks for people being patient, I handed out a token for a free drink, which made even the surliest of people happy. For this group, “free” was the magic word.
It took us an hour, and about fifteen more tokens, to get through the mess, but the customers dwindled to a manageable amount, and Cary came over to thank me for coming in. His blond hair was matted with sweat, and his legs shook. I pulled a stool around and had him sit down before he collapsed.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I should have handled this situation before it became one. I’ll need to hire someone right away and get them trained, so for the next few nights at least, I’ll be here working the bar.”
“But I was supposed to go home after tonight,” Cary whispered, his eyes downcast, staring at his hands. “I haven’t seen my parents in over a year. Mom was looking forward to it.”
I remembered how excited he was when he asked about taking a few weeks off to see his relatives in Alabama. He’d told me about his mother’s blue-ribbon winning cobbler and how she guilted him into eating by telling him he was too skinny. Three weeks of being with his family, fishing, hiking, cooking, and eating foods that I’d never even heard of but that sounded delicious. No way could I crush his dreams. Tammy and I had a tight-knit family, but not one that had a passel of kids and grandkids who would be around nearly a month.
I reached out and tucked a knuckle under his chin, then lifted until our gazes locked. “I know. You’ll go, have a nice time, and come back rested.”
Cary was too precious for words. He had so much love to give, but he needed to find the right person. The guys at the bar knew my feelings for Cary, and they protected him like he was one of their own. It was funny seeing hardcore gangers giving him a soft smile when he served them, or having a burly biker step up if someone got out of line.
His eyes were misty. “I can’t leave you alone without help.”
I cuffed him on the shoulder and gave him the biggest, fakest grin I could manage. “I’ll be fine. You don’t know how many times I did this before you started here. And I’ll get someone in as soon as possible. I’ll call an agency tomorrow and get someone in to start training.”
If only I could be as certain as I sounded.
Chapter Two
Kyle
By the time Pete got home, I was still a nervous wreck over what happened in the lobby. Pete came through the door, and I pounced.
“Why didn’t you tell me about our neighbor?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Our fucking god of a neighbor. Big guy, bald, and the tattoos I could see made me want to strip him down so I could get a glimpse at the ones he was hiding.” I narrowed my gaze at him. “You’re not interested in him, are you?” I would never poach and hoped to hell Pete wasn’t into the guy.
“I don’t even know who the hell you’re talking about. Dude, I just got home, and I gotta take a wicked piss. Can I at least get five minutes to take care of that before you’re all over my shit?”
“So… you’re not interested?”
He groaned. “No, I’m not. Now, I have to go, okay? Or do you want a puddle forming on the floor? Because, remember, it’s your turn to clean.”
I had forgotten that. “Go, do whatever. Just make sure you hurry back.”
“Oh, you know I will,” he said with a fake cheeriness. “You know I live to hear about your boy crushes. Are we going to have hot cocoa and sit around in our robes while we talk about our feelings?”
“You can be such a sarcastic ass.” I gestured toward the bathroom. “Go, pee.”
He bowed at the waist. “Thank you, my queen.”
I hated the fact that I snorted as he hustled off to use the restroom. Pete made me laugh like no one else. It was why he was the perfect roommate. Plus he paid his half of the rent and utilities on time, and had more than once covered me.
When he came back out of the bathroom, he went and grabbed a couple of Miller Lites from the fridge, then gestured toward the couch. I met him there, and he handed me a bottle.
