Page 2 of His Ex's Little Sister
“Are you short-staffed again?” I ask, mostly to makeconversation.
“Yeah.” His eyebrows knit together and he puts on the usual scowl that comes before a rant. “Real shame. I spent almost a month getting that last night shift bartender up to speed, and then he goes and quits to tend bar at some shitty casino close to theStrip.”
“That’stoobad.”
“No shit. Vegas is tough to compete with, but still, you’d think the kid could have saved me the hassle of training him by telling me he had his sights set on the bright lights. Serves me right for trying to save a penny by setting up shop so far off the goddamnedStrip.”
I lift one shoulder and nod politely, on account of the fact that I’ve heard this particular rant before. I know better than to encourage him by agreeing. Besides, I needinformation.
Motioning toward the stage with my chin, I smile. “You’re having much better luck with the musical talent, though. That performance was prettydamngood.”
He grins. “Yeah. Lucky break too. Those two are hot to trot for their chance at making it in Nashville. She just got back from college, so I’ll probably have them doing gigs here for a year or more. College loans are theworst.”
“Got back? Is she from around here?” I have to ask, because I’m one of the few people in Las Vegas who isn’tfromsomewhere else. I actually grew up in South Las Vegas. My father used to be a cargo airplane pilot, and had moved us out here from Idaho so he could have a resort-style playground in his backyard during hisdowntime.
“Yeah. Don’t you recognize her? She is Don Sparrow’s youngest daughter,Robin.”
My head snaps toward the stage again and Iswallowhard.
Robin Sparrow. I know her, or at least, I knowofher.
No fucking way I’ll have a chance in hell withthisgirl.
I shouldn’t even lookherway.
First of all, she looks like she’s barely legal. Going from memory, though, must be close to eight years younger than me. She was probably still in grade school when I started Army basic training. Second, and much more importantly, I dated her older sister, Danielle, back in high school. And things did not end well. It had something to do with the fact that right after graduation, Danielle led herself to believe that I was days away from proposing to her, and instead of doing that, I quietly enlisted in the Army and left town without so much as agoodbye.
It was a dick move. I was a shithead back then, not for joining the Army or leaving her behind, but for being a pussy and not telling her about it. Personally, it was a tough time, and she was not aware that I was dealing with serious problems of my own. Quality of life problems, like having a mean motherfucker of an old man, and a mother who didn’t make it in this world past my third birthday. If she were alive, maybe she could have tempered his wickedspirit.
The bottom line is I didn’t have the balls to tell Danielle that I was more interested in risking my life to serve my country than staying anywhere near my father, or worse, to kick off the green mile to a slow death by hooking up with my high school sweetheart and gettinghitched.
Like I said, I wasanass.
Maybe Istillam.
That’s what I’m told,anyway.
Danielle’s kid sister, Robin, may not know all the details of this fucked up backstory, but I’m sure she knows enough to steer clear of me. And I should leave well enoughalone.
“Good to know,” I mumble as Rusty places the full ice-cold pitcher of what’s on tap in front of me. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my wallet for a few bills. “There should be enough here to get your stage acts any drink they want…although, she may not be oldenough.”
He nods. “I’ll put it in their tip jars and they can figure out what to do with the cash. And by the way, she’s legal,” he confirms with a grin. “You should know that I make it my business to never hire jailbait, not even forstagegigs.”
I walk back to my friends at our table, and take my seat, ignoring the slim, blonde, overly flirtatious waitress named Sally, who has been campaigning hard for a second date with me for months. She balances her tray in her right hand and rests her left hand on myshoulder.
“Hi Reid,” she says, leaning down toward me and leaving nothing to my imagination as she shows off her fullcleavage.
A glance in my friends’ direction tells me they’re happy to take in the free show of Sally’sampletits.
“Hey Sally. How’s itgoing?”
“Good, but it could be a lot better if we go out again,” she purrs, tracing a line from my shoulder down to myforearm.
“I’dbet.”
“So, is that a ‘yes’,honey?”
It’s not a ‘yes’. It’s a ‘hell no’. I don’t do second dates. The thing is, I like Rusty, and this saloon, so I need to let her down gently. Fighting back the urge to groan, I give her a weak smile. “Things are pretty busy with work. How about I letyouknow?”
Sally pouts at me and starts to bat her eyelashes, like it would make a difference. Thankfully, a customer waves at her from a few tables away. “Looking forward to it,” she tells me as sheleaves.
Perfecttiming.
Robin Sparrow is about to start another set onstage.
As she raises her microphone to her lips, she’s staring right at me and looks madashell.
I guess I’vebeenmade.
