Page 7 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
Willow and Aubrey got right to work, serving the customers, but Charly hung back, silently watching.This bar must succeed. Failure is not an option.Her last bar with Marcel had ended up never feeling like hers, since he made all the decisions. She needed this bar to succeed not only financially for Willow and Aubrey too, but to prove to herself she didn’t need Marcel for success. And she needed something to feel good about. Because right now, she had a hard time looking at herself in the mirror after Marcel’s betrayal.
Shaking off the worry seeping into her bones, she got to work.
It wasn’t until after the lunch rush that the worry hit her again straight in the chest.
“Well, that was a total disappointment,” Aubrey said after the last customers left.
Charly nodded as she closed the ice bucket. “The afternoon rush was no rush at all.” They’d had a total of ten customers, and Charly got the feeling none of them were locals. Opening day had gone so well. The bar had been packed...even if most of the people looked miserable. “I don’t know what happened.”
Willow gathered the empty glasses on the bar. “It’s only our second day. I bet things will pick up.”
Charly agreed with a nod, but the concern tickling in her throat reminded her that this bar could not fail. Not only for her pride, but because then they would all have to admit that their lives had gone to total shit. Needing space, she headed toward the back and called out, “I’ll be in my office if anyone needs anything.”
She left Willow and Aubrey chatting about marketing ideas and retreated to her office to focus on emails and sorting out the books to look for any wiggle room in case things were slower than she anticipated going into this.
It was 6:10 p.m. when she left the back room of the bar once again, expecting the dinner crowd and post-work rush to soon follow. She resurfaced from the back only to find the bar too quiet. Her eyes immediately darted to a particular booth; it was the same as yesterday, filled with those two cowboys...and that one devil.
“There must be something in the water around here,” Aubrey muttered, sidling up to Charly. “These cowboys are seriously hot.”
Every cowboy in that booth wore the same miserable expression. “And they know it too,” Charly replied, wiping a small spill off the counter. She looked up to see two women at the end of the bar, their heads bent over their phones and laughter spilling from them, before she returned her attention to her friends. “Focus, girls. We need to ensure this place turns a profit, not get distracted by cowboys, no matter how handsome they may be.”
Aubrey gave her a pointed look and sly grin. “Ha! So you admit you weren’t immune to that guy over there?”
Charly began rinsing out the cloth in silence, refusing to further indulge that conversation. She hated admitting she had been taken in by the cowboy’s silver-blue eyes and mischievous smile. He had stood around six-two with an impressive build beneath his gray T-shirt and worn jeans from all those days on the ranch. His light brown hair was well-kept, ending with a neatly trimmed beard. Once upon a time she would’ve melted at his feet, but love wasn’t her priority anymore.
Willow came to lean against the bar, resting her chin on one hand as she said, “I don’t think anyone can resist their appeal. Just look at them—they’re gorgeous!”
Charly wrung out the moist cloth and hung it up to air-dry on the faucet. “Girls, we all know why we’re here. We’ve been through a lot lately, but now it’s time for us to have something that’s only ours and to make something new of ourselves. This is our chance to start fresh.” She looked between her friends. “Have you forgotten that we are all starting over? That this is our dream, and it won’t come true unless we make it happen? Men broke our dreams. They cannot be our priority now.”
Aubrey rested upon the ice bucket, folding her arms over the newly printed black T-shirt with THE NAKED MOOSE written in a calligraphy font across the chest. “No, I haven’t forgotten that I’m twenty-eight and my life has pretty much crumbled around me.”
Willow huffed out a laugh. “As if I’d forget,” she said.
Charly’s throat tightened, and she gently placed her hand on Willow’s arm in comfort. “Let’s stay focused,” she reminded them. This bar was their new beginning and they only had one chance at success—no man was going to take that away from them. “We need to do whatever we can to get ahead.”
Willow smacked the countertop with her palm. “Agreed.”
Aubrey nodded, then glanced over her shoulder at the cowboys in the booth. “Though I may be tempted to admire them from afar,” she added with a playful smile.
“Look, not touch,” Charly said firmly, before approaching the women at the end of the bar. “Are you doing okay, ladies?”
“We’re doing just fine.” The pair exchanged meaningful looks before the blonde quietly said, “I’m Becky and this is Hilary.”
Charly smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charly. Behind me are Willow and Aubrey.”
Her friends waved from afar as Becky said, “I have a piece of advice for you all. We saw you looking at that group of cowboys over in that booth, and woman to woman, stay away from that one over there with the beard. Jaxon Reed is pure trouble. He’ll make you a notch on his bedpost and that’s it.”
Jaxon...Not a bad name, Charly thought to herself.
Willow stepped closer to the women, all eagerness for some juicy gossip. “What do you know that we don’t?”
Becky said quietly, keeping the conversation private, “He’s a heartbreaker. Really, you should stay clear of all of them from Timber Falls Ranch. They like being lone wolves.”
A mischievous glint appeared in Willow’s eyes as she prodded Charly aside to get closer to the women. “Why?”
Hilary leaned in, keeping their conversation quiet. “They’re all running away from something. Believe me, they don’t bring anything but heartache.” She paused to shrug. “If you’re looking for a fun time, sure, go for it. But don’t give them your hearts—they’ll only crush them.”
Charly readjusted the tubs of limes and lemons beneath the counter. “We’re not looking for fun, or anything else.” She had a chance to make this bar a success without relying on a man, like she had with Marcel. With their bar, she’d let his ideas overpower hers. She’d overlooked all his red flags and somehow let herself believe he loved her, even accepting his proposal. Now she knew better. Men didn’t change. Red flags lasted forever. “I appreciate your warning. Thanks for the heads-up, but none of us are looking for love.”
