Holly
The place was rocking, the booze was flowing, tips were huge, and I was going home. Crap.
Gable Matthews, leading a posse of Neanderthals, had descended on the sports bar. Geez, it took two tall tables shoved together just to seat the five of them. Matthews didn’t recognize me, and that was good.
I’d taken the food order and left another stool there when he said his boss was on his way. Boss covers a lot of territory but just in case, I traded tables with a server from the other side of the bar.
It grieved my bank account mightily to watch the waiter deliver the first round of beers, wings, ribs, and onion rings and pocket the big tip. It had been a hardship giving the table away. But when my former dance partner, entered the front door and took his seat, I was glad I’d made the switch.
I pulled on a ball cap, untucked my tee, glad that I’d bought and extra-large that hung loose over the white shirt I wore underneath, and served tables on the other side of the room.
Still, by nine o’clock I was so exhausted from dodging Marty’s trips to the john, his forays to the bar where he walked up and down peering at the people on the stools, and his unexplained ventures outside, I was ready to call it quits for the night.
I told Ted, doubling as the night’s bartender, I felt sick, which was true, and I was leaving. Relieved at that decision, I bounced through the kitchen doors to the music somebody turned on.
“Hey, you can’t go back there.” Ted’s warning reached me too late for me to hide. The kitchen doors swung open behind me, and I knew without looking who lurked there.
I turned and glared. “What?”
“This guy giving you grief, Holly?” Ted along with two of his friends ready to play bouncer, followed Marty into the kitchen.
Before I could say, “Yes, beat the crap out of him,” I recognized Gable Matthews as one of the men who’d followed Marty from the table. He crowded in the doorway behind Ted and his friends and brought more of Marty’s posse along.
“Good to see you again, Marilyn,” Gable, wearing a cowboy hat and looking damned good in it, drawled.
“That her?” The older guy next to him studied me hard.
Much as I’d like to punch Marty in the nose, I had no desire to see his crew demolish the bar’s kitchen in a stupid brawl. Marty stepped closer to me. I stepped back.
“Did you want something specific or just dogging me because you’ve lost your mind?” I tried to be civil. Really, I did.
He crossed his arms and stared down at me. What? Was I supposed to be clairvoyant or something? I remained silent, letting my expression speak for me. If he got my “drop dead” message, he ignored it.
“Maxine says you quit.”
Ahh. It has a brain. “And?”
“I need you for a dance.”
“No.”
“The company agreed to participate in another charity dance. I need to hire you again.”
“So, I heard. And declined like I said. No thanks.”
“Why?”
By this time, Ted, along with most of the wait staff and Marty’s posse, all listened to the exchange.
“Look, if you two need to work something out, cool. But not in the kitchen.” Realizing our drama was interfering with his business, Ted pointed at the door urging me to leave.
Ted was right. I needed to go home, and Marty needed to tie a cement block around his neck and jump into a large body of water.
“Sorry, Ted. I’ll collect my tips tomorrow night.” I set things in motion by retrieving my coat and purse from my locker. I intended to get out the back door while I still had a job.
Marty followed.
“Hey, you can’t go there,” Ted decreed. “No customers using the back exit.”
Marty looked crestfallen. Really, he did. I’d never consciously used that word before, but if it meant downcast, deflated, dejected and disappointed, Marty was crestfallen. I felt bad for making him sad.
“Fine, fine. Sorry Ted.” I ended up going out the front accompanied by the goon squad. Marty perked up noticeably as we left.
Once we hit the street, I tucked my head into my collar, jammed my hands into my pockets, and peeled off to the left. I knew the area, something, I hoped, Marty didn’t; but of course, he did.
“Church’s place is two streets over and four blocks down,” he volunteered. “We can talk there.”
“We can talk here. What do you want?” I asked, plowing to a halt.
“First, let’s find a place to sit and get to know each other.”
While I mentally debated whether to be friendly or smack him upside the head, the dance partner from hell slid his hand through my arm and urged me across the intersection toward Church’s Bar & Grill.
Megan had once described the bar as a place featuring peanut shells on the floor, the smell of old beer hanging in the air, and big men lumbering in and out morning noon and night.
I glanced behind at the crew trailing us, then back at Marty. I’d already met the animals, and they appeared not too bright, but harmless.
Marty
Jesus. I hung onto her arm, feeling her tensed muscles through her sleeve. I wondered if she planned to swing at me. Kit would have kicked my ass by now. I knew it and cringed inside. Nevertheless, I hung onto my dance partner’s arm, ready to waltz her down the street if that’s what it took to get her into my arms again.
I admit, I wasn’t making good sense even to myself.
“Hungry?” I asked hopefully. Now that I’d found her and had my hands on her, I wanted to make sure I got things right this time.
She turned her head, baring her teeth at me. Shit. My cock surged to full stance.
Dear God, don’t let her notice and get scared off. I suddenly had humiliatingly limited control over my body. I lengthened my stride, guiding her toward a place where I could sit her down, talk to her, and get to know her. I might have rushed us a bit. She jerked on my arm and forced a slower pace. I risked a peek at her, not surprised she was scowling at me.
“I’ve been on my feet all night and I don’t appreciate being dragged along as if we’re sprinting toward a finish line. Slow down or let loose. Come to think of it, just let go of me.” She shook off my hand and continued walking, but since it was toward Church’s, I stayed quiet and kept pace with her.
Behind us, I heard someone snort. I turned my head and snarled, “Get lost.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance in hell,” Ross answered. I could hear him laughing behind us.
“Sorry about them,” I told her. “They don’t get out much.” No doubt it seemed weird to Holly that we were being escorted to our destination. I’d dragged the crew along and now felt like a class-A fool. Not soon enough, we arrived at Church’s. I could see it was quiet for a Friday night. I grabbed the end barstool for her and sat down beside her.
“Evening, Marty.”
“Church, this is…”
Church polished the already clean area in front of her, waiting for me to finish.
“Uh, this is a friend of mine.” I didn’t say more when I remembered I didn’t know her real name. It might be Holly. That’s what the sports bar’s bartender had called her. Evidently tired of waiting, Church introduced himself.
“Name’s Church. I own this place and make the chili. It’s hot. Want a bowl?” He ignored me all together, and as he talked, he leaned over the counter, ostensibly to reach a spot on the bar.
When he got close enough to smell her hair, he inhaled, and a big grin spread over his face. “Hmmm… green apples. Seems like I caught a whiff of that earlier in the week.”
“I’ll have a beer.” I cut the conversation off before it could develop further. I’d discuss her Wednesday envelope-dropping, alarm-sounding visit when the time was right.
Church took the hint and kept his mouth shut while he served her a bowl of chili, side order of crackers, and added two pickles. When she asked for a glass of milk, he poured that, too.
He finally got around to my order and opened a bottle, setting it in front of me, before again leaning on the counter in front of her.
“Saw you dancing with Marty at the dance-a-thon. Sweetheart, you’ve got the moves.”
What the fuck? Church was stealing my lines. I glared at my friend, trying to warn him off. Christ, what in hell possessed the bald fool? In case he’d missed my position on the matter, I leaned closer to her and said, “She’s with me.”
“That so?” Church grinned, opening a beer for himself, before resting both arms on the counter as he faced us.
“I’m not with him.” She spoke to Church and pretended I didn’t exist.
It had been so simple when we’d danced. We’d been in sync. Same with the sex. As much as I could remember, it had been great.
“Like I said earlier. I’d like to hire you,” I said gruffly. At her incredulous glare, I added, “To dance. I need a partner who can keep up with me. You weren’t bad the other night. Of course, we’d need to practice.”
Her expression changed to outrage.
“I’ll pay you for your time.” I tried to make it clear I respected her cost, getting that part out in a rush.
“Christ, Marty. Is that the best you can do?” Church scratched his jaw and shook his head.
“Church, get the fuck out of our conversation.”
“Conversation means talk between two people. That ain’t happening here.”
She said nothing, ignored both of us, and spooned in chili like she’d been starved.
“Fill her bowl, again,” I ordered. I suspected if she got the chance, she’d slide out the door.
“Got any peanut butter sandwiches?” she asked Church, snubbing me.
But then, support arrived.
“Hey, Holly. Great seeing you again,” Gable’s woman said.
Janie took the stool on the other side of Holly. Hopefully, she’d help me fumble my way toward… It occurred to me, belatedly, that Harley-Jane might not be backing my play.
Janie knew her name and didn’t volunteer that information. Maybe the name “Holly” wasn’t real. But, she seemed comfortable with it. I watched her relax into girl talk, continuing to ignore me. I knew from my business negotiations that was untrue. She was hyper aware of me. I could feel it.
All I needed was to get her alone, without Church or Harley-Jane listening, and we’d forge a deal. Getting her alone was turning out to not be so easy. Shit, I’d brought the crew along for backup. Now, I wanted them to get lost. Instead, it seemed to me more people were arriving, and they were all eyeing Holly and me.
She’d been cute and sexy in her Marilyn outfit. In her jacket and khaki pants, she was attractive in a different way. Church’s place had heated up from the number of bodies crowding inside.
Holly finally shrugged out of her coat, ignoring me and all the rest of the males staring as she got settled on the stool. I relaxed when she kept talking to Janie.
Gable had my back. He’d imported his woman to help. I ordered another beer and considered my next move as I watched Holly in the bar mirror. It occurred to me that for a man of my age, I was acting more like a teenager. Apparently, I didn’t care because I kept on staring at her.
Porcelain skin, not too pale, pink cheeks. Her short hair made her ears visible. I checked them out. They hugged her head and were well shaped. Without the coat, I could see the shape of her breasts beneath her blouse. Not wanting her to consider me more uncouth than she already did, I tried not to let my gaze linger there.
Even without four-inch heels she was a tall woman, displaying good posture, straight shoulders, and walking with a no-nonsense stride. My pouty, flirty, dance partner had been replaced by a boyishly dressed young woman who smelled like green apples and wore pink lip gloss. And the more I discovered about the real her, the more attractive I found her.