Saturday afternoon Jolene came into work with a bigger pep in her step than normal. She’d told herself she was going to give Gavin a chance. That after looking around his place last night and seeing the only evidence of a life was that lone family picture on the wall, that she had to find a way to help him.
He may not think he needed help, but her radar had been right on point like it always was. She was hoping she could figure out what was wrong and bring him some happiness. But if there was anything she learned from her parents it was to never merely hope for anything because you’re better off going after it to make sure it happened.
There were times Gavin was short with her, grouchy even, though he tried to cover it up. Mainly when she hit on some nerves she didn’t know were exposed.
But those times when he opened up more—when he was willing to put himself out there—he felt the same as she did. He felt something deep down in the recesses of his bones that only someone with the same emotions as she’d been expressing could feel.
She understood him. She knew. Now she just needed to convince him of that.
It was going to take work. It was going to take a will of steel. And it was going to take patience.
Too bad she was lacking in the patience category.
She opened the front door and saw the place was hopping. She had to admit she was a bit in awe at how busy he was here. But it was a good location, the atmosphere was pleasant—thanks to her—and the cook did a good job with keeping the food simple but tasty.
It wasn’t a bar for people to come and hang out in at night while trying to pick someone up. It was more than that.
During the day it was more of a family pub vibe and she found it was pretty unique for the area. That might be why he was thriving so much.
Though it did seem like he knew a lot of the customers. Probably friends and word of mouth, but many were repeat customers and that was how you kept a business going.
She walked behind the bar to put her stuff away and grabbed an apron. Gavin made his way down to pick up a bottle of liquor and she said softly for his ears only, “Hey there, cutie.”
He looked startled, but winked at her, then went back to mixing his drink at the other end of the bar. She would have preferred he’d said it back. Or at least said hi, but she’d take the wink and call it a win, reminding herself to have patience.
He wasn’t really shy. At least she didn’t think so. It was more that he was stubborn. But she could be more so if she put her mind to it and that was what she was going to do.
By the end of the night, she felt she’d made some progress with Gavin. He’d actually carried on a conversation with her now and again when she made her way to the bar, but he was still keeping it simple.
She was placing her order down on the table for a couple of men, then turned when she felt a hand on her backside. She must be losing her touch because so far that hadn’t happened once. Sure she’d flirted with the customers once in awhile since it always resulted in better tips.
But this one guy tonight didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer, no matter how many times she’d said she wasn’t interested. Must be he didn’t understand the tight smile through gritted teeth she was sending him with her rejection. But she hadn’t wanted to be mean and insult him.
Only this time he went too far. “I’m going to assume that your hand has some involuntary reactions to be going where it has no place being.”
The man grinned. “Nothing involuntary there. It went right where it wanted to go.” His friends at the table laughed, egging him on. It was probably the worst thing they could have done.
“Geez, that’s too bad. My hand has that involuntary reaction at times too.” She picked up the beer she’d just placed in front of him, then poured it into his lap. “Just to cool you off.”
“Hey,” he said, standing up, not looking really friendly now. Of course, why would he when she just dumped an ice-cold beer in his lap? His friends were roaring with laughter, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed her arm fast to stop her from leaving. “I believe you owe me an apology,” he said, leaning in close, glaring at her.
“I believe she got her point across the first time in regards to your hands,” Gavin said, appearing quicker than she would have thought possible and lifting the guy up by the shirt.
“Get your hands off me,” the guy said, but since he was smaller than Gavin and his eyes were laced with fear, there wasn’t much of a threat behind his words when he said, “before I ask for the owner.”
“You’re speaking to the owner and we don’t allow that kind of behavior in here. Your tab is taken care of. Now leave and don’t come back.”
The man and his two friends got up and left pronto, Jolene walking away to the bar to get a rag and a mop to clean up the mess she’d just made.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she returned to the table to see Gavin putting the glasses on her tray. “You should get back behind the bar right now and help Robbie out. I’ll take care of this mess.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, the rage in his eyes slowly being overridden by concern. He didn’t look to be leaving either.
“Yeah. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m good at gauging people and he hadn’t had all that much to drink. I think his friends pushed him to do it and he didn’t want to lose face when I brushed him off.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not the type of establishment I want here. I’m sure the word will get out fast enough.”
“You don’t need that kind of publicity though,” she said.
He pulled the mop out of her hand. “Yeah, I do. I want it known what is allowed and what isn’t here. That’s the best way to make it known.” She was left staring at him while he cleaned up the mess she’d just made, wondering if she’d done more damage than pouring a drink on a customer.
***
Gavin had expected a waitress to be hit on a time or two. He’d told them all to let him know when it happened so he or another bartender could take care of it. A few had told him in the past and he’d made his voice known.
But Jolene never did. She always seemed to have it covered.
Until tonight.
He’d been watching the prick with the swift eyes and itchy fingers all night. They were close enough to the bar for him to hear some of the words said too. The demoralizing way they were describing Jolene and the things they’d like to do with her.
He’d been waiting for the right time to kick them out and was going to refuse the last order, but he had moved to the other side of the bar and Robbie had filled it without his knowledge.
“The show is over,” he told a few people that were looking at him when he was cleaning up.
“That was nice of you to do that,” a woman said that was with her date. “I wanted to say something to them, but my husband told me not to. To just let it go and not cause a scene.”
“I would have taken care of it earlier if I’d known it was upsetting others. Please, in the future let me know. It’s not the type of establishment I want to promote.”
He pushed the couple from his mind and finished up briskly, then went back to the hostess and told her the table was ready if there was anyone waiting.
Once he was behind the bar, he went back to work as if nothing happened.
That he didn’t just hop over the half door at the bar that staff swung open to get through.
That his fists didn’t flex with the urge to put them in the guy’s face.
That he didn’t see the fear in Jolene’s eyes that he was probably some brute now.