The Unlucky Ones, page 8
“Here’s her resume. Interview away, but she’s already hired.” Nat grabbed my resume from behind the bar and flattened it in front of him.
His jaw locked while his eyes scanned the page. For a second, I saw his lids squeeze together, his fingers pinching his nose, before he shook it off.
“Fire her. She doesn’t have enough experience.”
“What? No. She’s perfect. She’s caught on faster than anyone I’ve ever trained before.”
“You’re fired,” Lincoln threw out. This time I realized he was talking to me. Rage coiled in his shoulders. What the hell? “I’ll find someone next week.”
“No.” My mouth parted, dread filling my stomach. I couldn’t lose this job.
“No?” His head jerked to me so quickly, I tipped back on my heels. “Excuse me?”
“Please, I need this job. I will do anything.” I hated the desperation laced through my words. Getting this job was a fluke, but I couldn’t lose it. The first bill for my mother’s facility was already sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting to be paid.
“You can’t stay.” He sucked in, shaking his head almost desperately.
“She stays, Lincoln.” Nat folded her arms, her jaw set. “Or you lose me too.”
“What?” Lincoln’s mouth dropped. “You don’t even know her, and you’re willing to risk your job?”
“Yes.” Her gaze shot to me for just a moment, but I felt every word she didn’t say. She was doing it for my mom. For my niece. She understood how desperately I needed this job. The warmth bursting in my chest as she laid down her own position for a stranger made my eyes burn with emotion. “Now what will it be? Keep two extraordinary women working here, kicking ass and bringing in money for this bar, or you find yourself down two employees in a day?”
“Nat,” he snarled.
She tilted her head, a grin spreading across her face as though she saw something in his demeanor I hadn’t.
“That’s what I thought.” She winked at me again, turning back to the bar.
Rage flickered over his face, but he only looked at her, then stomped down the hall and slammed his office door.
I stared blinking at his vacant spot. Nat stood there, a smile engulfing her face.
“I can’t believe you did that. What if you lost your job?”
“He can’t do without me. I know how to run this place better than he does.” She grabbed a bottle off the shelf, pouring the contents into the glasses. “I know it. He knows it.”
“You put your job on the line for me.” I touched my chest, shaking my head slightly in awe. No one had ever done something like that for me.
“I like you, Devon, and I know how badly you need this job. I understand having to pay bills to survive. I’m a single mom and up until last year I was taking care of my dying grandmother.” Her brown eyes met mine, sympathy deeply entrenched in them. She shrugged, letting the moment go. “Plus, I love pissing him off. Though, I’m at a total loss as to why he wouldn’t want you here. You are gorgeous; the customers, mainly guys, will love you, and you are a hard worker. Seems a no-brainer to me.”
Maybe I was imagining things, but Lincoln didn’t simply not want me to work here; he seemed to dislike me. He didn’t even know me. I mean, most people at least waited to get to know me before they hated me.
“Did I not warn you he’s a real son of a bitch?” She chuckled. “Sexy as hell, but from experience, I’ve learned to stay far away from that type. Always bad news. Especially for the heart.” Nat flicked her chin toward the front door. “Now get back to work. We just had more people walk in.”
Still flushed, I swiped up the dropped tray and headed toward the tables. Lincoln was an asshole, but unnervingly hot, reminding me a little of the one guy who had completely made me lose my mind.
I had my experience with a bad boy. I learned my lesson, and I vowed I would never do that again.
By the time the bar closed, my feet throbbed in my shoes and my body was sticky from sweat and smelled like booze. But I felt fortunate I had a job.
“Sorry, this ended up less a training day and more of a throw-you-in-and-see-if-you-can-swim day.” Nat wiped down the bar then planted her butt on one of the stools with a groan.
Cleaning the last table, I dragged myself to the stool beside her, flopping onto it. I worked hard at the diner. I was used to hustling, but this was like a crazy day at the diner on ten shots of espresso. I could barely keep up with the drink and food orders.
“How did you guys do this without a server?” I rolled my shoulders back, stiff from carrying trays loaded with drinks and appetizers.
“I have no idea now.” Nat smoothed back her hair. “Tonight seemed extra crazy. That’s why I kept telling Linc we needed to hire more people. Since we’ve reopened this place, it keeps gaining in popularity. Eventually he’ll give in and add another bartender to the roster. At least on the weekends.”
My eyes drifted to the office door at the end of the hallway, knowing he was behind it. Earlier it had gotten so busy he jumped behind the bar with Nat, turning orders out to customers standing at the bar while Nat made ones for my table orders. He never once looked at me or acted as if I were even there. I, on the other hand, had the opposite problem; I couldn’t seem to stop watching him. He was cordial and joked with customers he knew but was guarded with anyone else. There wasn’t a woman who didn’t flirt with him. He was sexy and mysterious, and it drove women in hordes up to the bar to see if they could be the one to get him to smile or flirt back or take them home.
Did he have someone? Wife? Girlfriend? “What’s his story?” I stirred in my seat, still staring at the door as if I would get x-ray vision.
“I don’t really know. As I said, he surfaced one day. I didn’t even know James had a brother until Lincoln showed up. He’s tight-lipped about himself, but he’s a cool guy once you get past the first couple of layers.”
“What do you mean?”
“James was the same way, so I’m thinking they had an awful childhood or something, and he has serious trust issues. Once he lets you in…and when I say that I still don’t mean you’re suddenly buddies. Far from it. But you see glimpses of this other side of him. It took me four months to get anything even remotely personal out of him.”
“And what was that?” I lifted my eyebrows, craving any information about him. He was my boss and a real jerk, but something drew me to him. A feeling of familiarity, real or imagined, compelled my curiosity to understand him. Why did I feel this strange pull to him? Especially because he was such a dick. I was no different from those girls at the bar who were flirting with him, hoping to be the one who cracked the stoic armor.
Nat raised an eyebrow at me. “Uh-oh. Not you too.”
“What?” Embarrassment coated my cheeks like paint. “What are you talking about?”
Nat’s lashes fluttered. “Please. I’m not stupid. Hell, even with my past, I couldn’t fight wanting him at first too.”
“Really?” A zing of jealousy darted up my spine. “Did you guys?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Though I wanted to. But he didn’t even give me a sideways glance.”
“He has a girlfriend?” A lump formed in my throat. “A wife?”
“Look at you…fishing for details.” She nudged my arm, my cheeks reddening more. “As far as I’m aware, no to both. But who knows? He doesn’t talk about anything outside this bar. If he does, whatever woman has claimed him has never stepped foot in here. I tried asking him once, but he never answered. Lincoln Kessler is a man full of secrets.” She sighed, her attention shooting to the door then back to me. “Over the weeks working with him, I realized it was for the best nothing happened. Men like him are quicksand. And I’m done with that type. Isaiah’s father, pinche cabron, was the ultimate bad boy. Leader of a gang. And the reason I will only date nice guys now. Need a good role model for my boy.”
“Is he still involved with Isaiah?”
“He’s dead.” She shrugged.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He was an idiot, and I was even dumber for falling for him. Not long after I got pregnant, I realized I was attracted more to the danger and prestige of his title than the man. I didn’t want my son anywhere near the gang life, and Carlos would never leave. Not unless it was in a body bag.”
“Damn,” I whispered.
“You’re not the only one with a fucked-up past.” She smiled. “You did awesome tonight. I’m glad I trusted my gut. I think you will work out fine here.”
“Even with him?” My head nodded to the door at the end of the hall.
“I got a feeling he’ll come around.” She tightened her ponytail, a funny smile playing on her lips.
“I doubt it.” I slid off the stool, my feet screaming in agony.
“Show up, work hard, and prove him wrong.”
“I plan on doing precisely that.” I would be the best employee he could ever dream of because a lot of people needed me.
And I would fight tooth and nail for them.
Chapter Ten
The weekend passed in a blur—days spent with Mom, nights at the saloon. I finally met Julie and Miguel, the other employees. Julie was a cute blonde, who went to UNM during the week, making the bar a perfect place for her to work on weekends. Miguel was in his early twenties, good-looking, and fit. The moment he locked eyes on me, he flirted relentlessly. It didn’t take me long to realize his conversation was elementary at best, not much deeper than working out, women, his diet, and how awesome he was. The customers ate up his cheeky, flirty vibe. He was the perfect bartender, but my tolerance for his unsubtle quips about getting me in bed had reached its limit by Sunday night.
I barely saw Lincoln the whole weekend. When he did venture from his office to help stock or get a count of inventory, I was no more than a ghost to him, his frostiness toward me not lifting an inch. It frustrated me beyond belief, especially because I worked my ass off. I stocked, cleaned, and did side work before I was asked, covered more tables than Julie, had customers laughing, bartenders in awe, and the kitchen staff blowing me kisses.
I was the frickin’ model employee.
Did he even utter one word of “good job” or “I’m sorry I was a total douchebag. Forgive me, I’m so glad we hired you”? No, not once.
When I grabbed stuff out of my locker Sunday night, I heard Miguel tell Lincoln how good I was. Though I wasn’t sure I felt flattered.
“Hey, man.” I heard Miguel’s voice stream from Lincoln’s office near where I stood, dreaming about a shower and bed. Sunday had been almost as busy as Saturday, and I looked forward to the next two days off. “Here’s the till and report.”
Lincoln only grunted in response.
“Can I say thank you for hiring that girl? Damn, she’s good. Surprised me. Had all her tickets in order and was on every drink the moment I finished making them.” Miguel scoffed, as if he were shocked I was capable of being good. “And doesn’t hurt she’s fucking hot. Nice eye candy for the bar.”
A noise rolled out of the room, a feral growl, and my skin rose in goosebumps.
“Just sayin’. She’s smokin’. And you know my standards.”
“And if you want to keep your job, you will keep from ever speaking like that about any woman at this bar again.” A sound of a chair screeched across the wood floor, Lincoln’s voice a rumble. “Especially her.”
“Relax, Linc. It was a compliment.”
“Miguel, you are an average bartender with an overinflated ego.” Lincoln’s voice vibrated with cold anger. “And I warn you, if I hear you make one more sexual comment to her, about her, or even look at her…you’re fired. She may not be easy to replace, but you are. Now go home before I change my mind.”
“Someone needs to get laid. Jesus, what is your problem tonight?” Miguel shot back. “And you wouldn’t fire me; you need me. I’m one of the best and you know it.” With a huff, Miguel stomped out of the office, passing me without a glance, and slamming the back door.
What the hell happened? Did Lincoln actually stand up for me? When did he notice Miguel’s attention on me? He didn’t act like I were even here.
Boots hitting the wood floor snapped me out of my trance. I looked at the doorway as Lincoln strode out, his brown eyes catching mine. His expression went taut, his jaw twitching with irritation.
“What are you still doing here?”
“I was finishing side work.” I forced my feet to stay planted on the floor. He was not going to scare me.
He rubbed the spot between his eyes, his nose flaring. “Go home.”
“Yeah, I was. Thanks for your permission,” I snapped, my temper flaring out of my mouth before I could think.
He swung back around, his expression detached, but his jaw tightened with aggravation. His stare latched on to me like a trap, locking me in place. Thick tension sprouted between us, tangling my lungs in its web and slinking around my body.
He took a step closer, stopping a few feet from me, looming over me.
I couldn’t move or look away. The air in my lungs skimmed the surface as his eyes moved over me. Slowly. Meticulously. Heat bloomed inside, flowing through my veins, and tightening my thighs.
This man was a jerk. Had been nothing but rude to me, but I still couldn’t fight the desire to touch him. See if he was real. Understand why my heart thumped when he was close, and why my body responded the way it did to him.
“Devon.” He said my name as though he was finding how it tasted on his tongue, the rumble of his voice vibrating through me.
“What?” My voice came out a whisper.
Lincoln took another step closer, the heat from his physique feathering my skin. My heart thudded against my ribs. He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear.
“Get the fuck out of my bar. Now.” His voice rumbled in my ear, sending frissons down my spine. Until his words sank in. I jerked back, my teeth crunching.
Fuck you! I screamed in my head, but silently I held my chin up, swiveled around, and stomped out of the saloon. The crisp evening air stabbed my heated cheeks.
Nat was wrong; not only was there no good guy under any layer, but he was worse than quicksand, which you didn’t willingly step into it.
If he was trying to get me to quit, he would quickly find I didn’t break so easily. Life had tried over and over. Lincoln Kessler would not even make a dent.
Three weeks passed with very little interaction with Lincoln, for which I was grateful. Miguel backed off openly making passes in public, but he made up for it in private to annoy me. I didn’t subscribe to the notion that boys will be boys, so women should let them get away with being assholes. But Miguel was harmless. It wasn’t long before I realized he didn’t know any other way to interact with women. Sexual comments were his pleasantries. I still called him on it, but I wouldn’t tattle on him to the boss.
Not yet.
Home life was in a routine. Amelia worked four days a week, and Mia had started school down the road. We had barely enough money to pay bills and get food, so not for a lot of extras. I pleaded with my car every day to keep going. I actually had time to pick up running again, helping to relieve some of the stress. I was nowhere near my track days, but it felt good, just me, my music, and the pavement under my feet.
Mom was another story. She had lost more weight and could no longer go to the bathroom on her own. She had become petulant toward people and stared out her window for hours. Having early-onset, the disease was more aggressive and progressing fast.
The doctor had warned us as the disease progresses, patients lose the ability to coordinate basic motor skills such as swallowing, walking, or controlling bladder and bowel. These could understandably cause confusion and frustration.
“Mom, you need to eat.” I scooped up some yogurt on a spoon, her face turned toward the window, lost in her world. “Mom.”
“Mom, please?” Amelia scooted Mia onto her other leg, leaning into Mom’s eyeline. “Mia said she’ll eat with you.”
Mom’s head rotated enough to glance at us, her face blank of recognition.
“Enisi?” Mia said her grandmother’s nickname softly, timid and shy around the strange woman who had possessed her loving grandmother. “Look. I love yo-gert.” She licked her own Go-Gurt package. “Yummy.”
Mom stared at her as if she were an alien, then went back gazing out the window.
I dropped the spoon in defeat, sharing a look with Amelia. Frustration lined Amelia’s forehead, her patience with Mom getting shorter with every visit.
“Mom. Eat. Now,” she demanded.
“Not helping, Mel.” I shook my head at my sister. “Mom, you have to keep up your strength.” I leaned over, touching her arm.
Wrong move.
With a strangled cry, she whirled around, her arms flayed out, whipping and thrashing at anything close. The tray of food flew off the counter, crashing onto the linoleum with a loud clatter, yogurt spraying over us. Her howls of anger and irritation pierced the air.
My niece’s face crumpled and wails zipped up her throat, clashing against my mother’s moans of frustration.
“That’s it. I’m getting Mia out of here.” Amelia grasped Mia’s hand and stomped out.
“It’s okay…Mom…shhh.” I tried to calm her down, but her moans only rose to shrieks. Nurses scuttled into the room, moving around her, speaking in low, calm voices, pushing me out of the way. At first she fought against them, her body flopped to the floor, taking one down with her. Bethany, my mom’s main caregiver, sat down with her and talked slowly and calmly to her. Mom struggled and cried until her body sagged into Bethany.
“We’ll take her back to her room now. She can rest for a bit,” Bethany said to me.
I nodded, staring at the nearly unrecognizable face of the woman who used to braid my hair, and make me tea when I had a bad day. The nurses helped lift her up, her feet moving like a zombie back to her room.
“I’m sorry, Devon.” Bethany touched my arm, her light brown eyes soft with sympathy. “I wish I could tell you it will get better or easier.”
