“John, red shirt, black hair, five-foot nothing at the bar. Remove the drinks. Deal with him,” I grumble into my earpiece to my head of security as I march out of my office from where I’ve been watching the security monitors.
“Already on it, I saw it too.” John’s words in my ear are what I expected. I hired him because he’s the best, and I trust him implicitly.
Just one fucking night it would be nice to eat dinner without an interruption.
I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth to make sure there is no pepper sauce from my steak still stuck in my beard. My blood pressure is rising, as it does every time I have to deal with the scum of society.
This time of year is crazy busy, as we are only two weeks out from Christmas. Everyone is out at parties then end up here when they’ve had enough of the work crowd, or they’re just here catching up with friends ahead of the holidays. They call it the happiest time of the year, but I’m not sure who it’s happy for, because there hasn’t been much cheer around here lately for me.
I try to remain calm and take a deep breath before I step through the door at the end of the back corridor and walk out onto the large floor of the bar. I can’t add a lawsuit for losing my cool to my list of problems.
I hear voices escalating from across the room where my security staff are wrestling with the guy they are trying to remove.
“Get your hands off me, I didn’t do nothing. I’m gonna sue you for assault.” The words spewing from his mouth aren’t anything I don’t hear on a regular basis.
I stride over to him and scrunch his shirt into my fist, dragging him close enough to me that I can smell the liquor on his breath.
“You’re lucky they aren’t beating your sorry ass to a pulp right now,” I hiss at him. “So stop fucking squealing and save it for the cops when they get here.”
“I didn’t do nothing,” he grunts again.
“Anything. I didn’t doanything,” I correct him like he is one of my kids. “And I beg to differ, asshole. My video surveillance tells me differently, so smile for the camera, dickhead,” I say, pointing to the camera that he is looking straight at.
The fight in his body drains out of him as he comes to the realization that he is in big trouble.
“You’re stupid if you didn’t think we were watching you. Women come to this bar because they know they are safe from scum like you.” My face is so close to his now that his eyes are bulging wide with fear. “Don’t you ever show your face in Lucinda’s again, or next time, you won’t be walking out of here. Understood?” The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as rage courses through my body.
I release my hold of him before I do something stupid, like headbutting him, and then I look to John.
“Get him out of here.”
“Yes, boss.” He signals to his security guys to move him to our secure room until the cops arrive. It is fully kitted out with surveillance cameras and microphones so my staff can never be accused of anything from the problem customer they are dealing with.
I run my hand through my hair in frustration and then take another long, slow, deep breath before I step over and speak to the woman whose drink was just spiked. What the hell is wrong with society!
After spending time with the customer and her friend, I learn that thankfully neither of them had taken a sip of their cocktails before John took them away to be tested by the cops so they can charge the guy.
Dropping back into the chair at my desk, I try again to eat my now-cold steak and glance at the photo that sits pride of place next to my computer screen. Running my finger over my wife’s beautiful smiling face, I stop and linger on her lips. WhatI wouldn’t give for one last kiss of those lips. To see her cuddling our two boys, the way she is in this photo like they are her whole world, because they were. I can still see her sitting at the end of the bar on the nights we hired a sitter, when she would come to the bar I named after her, have a few casual drinks and the occasional makeout session in my locked office, and then I would put her in a town car to get home to the kids.
Life was perfect until that night. I can remember the feeling of my phone in my pocket ringing over and over again and then seeing the sitter’s number before hearing a voice screaming down the phone at me that Lucinda had collapsed as she walked through the front door and that the ambulance was on its way. The rest is a blur I don’t want to think about, because none of it matters. She was dead from a cardiac arrest the moment she hit the floor, and life was never going to be the same again.
I can’t believe that was two years ago, and now I live a life of chaos trying to juggle our six- and four-year-old sons, Nash and Kade, while running Lucinda’s. Bringing my best buddy, Adrian, on board as a partner is the only thing that has kept my head above water.
Knock, knock.
“Unless someone is dying, I don’t want to know.” I take another bite of the steak which is a little chewier now.
The door starts to open anyway because my staff understand my sense of humor, which is surprisingly still hanging on by a thread.
“Sorry, boss, just wanted to let you know that we had to send Jasper home, so we are one man down in the bar. He was getting sicker by the hour,” Charlene informs me. “And I don’t want to add more drama, but Emile isn’t looking too hot either. That’s what we get for hiring roommates.” She rolls her eyes.
“I know, but they’re great at their jobs.” I push my plate away because there is no way I’m finishing my cold dinner now.
“Send Emile home too. I don’t want whatever bug they have going through the staff two weeks before Christmas. I’ll be out there in a minute to work the bar. Let John know too, please.” Charlene just nods at my instructions and closes the door behind her.
“Why does this shit always happen when Adrian is away? Story of my life.”
Standing and looking back down at my boys in the photo, I know that’s why I’m here. They need a better life than the one I had growing up. I won’t ever let them live in squalor.
