Page 63 of Painting Her Fate

“This place is packed. You could use my help.”

“Wait!” Emma catches my meaning, “where are you going?”

“We’ve got this.” Zander starts to back away just as a flustered Maddie whipped herself beside to him, breathless and cheeks flushed with frustration.

“Zander, Trent is going to pull his hair out and end up quitting on you.

He’s being bombarded!” She takes a quick glance around, “I haven’t seen it this busy in a long time.” We watched as a group of three find an open table. Maddie stood there vexed, then with a huff she ran off to get their drink orders. Zander turned to me, knowing he has no other choice. Besides, my version of fun compared to Emma’s is quite the opposite.Until after-hours, anyway.

There was no time for him to argue- he knew it. Ha-ha. I win. With smug satisfaction, I hop off the stool and straighten my shoulders, a bit of command lacing my tone, “Trent and I will clear the bar if you help Maddie out here.” I turn to find a frowning Emma and jot a mental note to make it up to her. “I’m sorry.” I wince, which coaxes her to roll her eyes and heave a sigh. “Ugh. Fine. But you so owe me!” She yells, pointing a finger.

“Deal!” I wrap my arms around her and she’s careful not to soil my clothes with her saucy fingers. Once inside Zander’s office, I set my bag on the sofa, twist my unruly waves to the top my head in a makeshift bun, and just to be safe, I snag my keys from my bag. There was a time I forgot my bag on the hook after a long night at Tally’s. I had to crawl through the back window to retrieve said bag and keys. Halfway through the window I remembered my flat has twenty-four-hour security and I didn’t need them. To top it off, I couldn’t get the damned alarm to shut off, making it signal to the police the bar had a break-in. Patrick was livid until he watched the security footage of my monumental failure at breaking and entering. Oh well, live and learn. Patrick will never let me live that one down.

Once behind the bar, I give Trent a glance finding his mood going from stressed, to relaxed when he caught sight of who his barback is.

“Girl, I am so happy you’re back!” He set out four pints, a tray of shots, three rum and cokes, and probably had twenty other orders from the servers, plus the crowd before us. No way he’d be sane enough to do this on his own. His eyes rake me up and down, a wide grin set in place, “ooh, looks like someone is ready topar-tay!Yes girl!” Trent points in a dramatic fashion,

“bah-da-bah-bop-bah,” he sing-songs on a snap of his fingers, “if I liked Mc Donald’s, I’d eat you for dinner.” A group of guest giggle across the bar and I know tonight will be a fantastic night. “I’m lovin’ this look!Super sexy!” A few cat-call sound from somewhere but my mind is on someone else.

I have my eyes set on one delectable prize at the end of tonight.

I wave him off and sense the live buzzing energy surrounding us. Let’s get down to business. Scanning the sea of patrons needing a drink, I yell out to Trent, “Are you ready?!”

“Yes ma’am!” He shouts as the band kicks off their first song of the night. The only thing I feel is the overwhelming sensation of absolution, and I know then;I’m home,and let the first bottle fly.

By the end of the night Trent and I have everything mostly cleaned and back in order. Whilst cleaning, we were able to talk about the band, the area, and the upcoming events scheduled atBE-Harbor, or the local concert and event park down the way. The hours passed smoothly without incident, tossing bottles and earning considerable tips.

The glances I caught of Zander eyeing my skills had me in a constant mixture of pride and arousal, and I have a ken to think Zander is a leg man; or he wants my boots to wear for himself, I can’t decide which.

Nearing the end of the evening I happened to catch sight of the military picture on the back wall. Studying it, I found five men together in their military uniforms standing near a Humvee. The dry desert surroundings were bland to most on-lookers, but not to me. This landscape meant war. The sun must have been high in the sky because two were squinting their eyes, whilst the other three wore dark sunglasses to block out the rays.

Ford’s broad body is the centerpiece as he held his gun excitedly, a cigarette between his lips. Zander is standing to Ford’s right, arm slung casually over the younger man next to him on the end, his complexion of a medium chocolate brown and a boyish smile on display. The two other unknown men on the other side of Ford seemed close to Zander’s age; twenty-four or five, the man next to Ford grinned and held up his middle finger, and on the end the Sargent is the only one stony faced, probably sick of his men’s shite.

A tight-knit family.

Checking my mobile, I click open my messages, finding Emma sent a couple love notes and photos. This is a story in of itself; I’m able to see from beginning to end on just how buzzed she became. Don’t worry though, her drinks contained no alcohol towards the middle to the end of the night.

I scroll through what she sent and smile at one picture in particular.

Emma’s cheeks are flushed and her bob clings to her sweat dampened forehead. She is kissing Gavin’s cheek and his expression is unamused, the same as earlier. Turning the screen, I call to Trent across the way, knowing he will get a kick out of this. “This is quite the picture.” I can barely contain my amusement, it’s too wild to not share.

Trent slaps the towel on the bar then moves in. Squinting, he proceeds to break out in hysterical laughter at what is hiding in the right-hand corner.

“-The fuck is that?” He snatched my device, zooming the image in for a better look. After a moment, he leans back, bursting into hysterical laughter yet again. “Is that-,” he starts in, and it takes a full minute for him to regain himself enough to speak, “were that guy’s pants covered in what I think they’re covered in?” He couldn’t hold it in and had to grip the bar top for support. “Now I’ve seen it all!”

In the photo we see a tipsy Emma taking a selfie with a less than impressed Gavin next to her, his beard net on and an exasperated scowl crossing his face. But in the right-hand corner Emma caught some bloke dancing in the background, a massive stain running along the backside of his tan trousers. He must’ve been plastered to the point he either did not know it was there, or just didn’t give a shite.

Ha-ha.Shite. Pun absolutely intended.

Trent flashes me his mega-watt smile, his low fade of light brown hair is strewn about due to his hands running through it earlier. He is going to knock a man on his arse someday and steal his heart with those looks. His light gray eyes sparkle with mirth against the dusting of freckles on his cheeks, only adding to his boyish charm, “you have GOT to send that to me so I can print this and show the drag queens. This is going on our wall at the club, for sure.” He rattles off his number and I send it to him. He replies with a kissy face emoji and a, ‘Yay!’

Another message popping up right after.

Bartender mates 4ever!

I have not laughed this much in so long, It’s a wonderful sensation.

Now that I know more of what this handsome fellow enjoys in his free time, we start comparing our fun times at drag shows, amusement parks, bands and concerts, and, oh my gosh,food. Trent is as much a food-lover as I, and that is saying something.

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