Page 12 of The Other Half

“I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you, too.”

We hung up, and I sat in silence for a moment before turning the key and listening to the engine chug back to life. With his money and connections, I had no doubt I’d have an ID by morning. Now I needed to go home and sit on my phone googling drink recipes and how to tap a beer. Tomorrow I started my new job.

CHAPTER FIVE

Cassie

“Hey, Cassie!” Jo called when I stepped inside the Blue Ox. “Perfect timing. There’s no one here so I can show you around.”

“Hey, Jo. I’m excited to get started. Here’s my ID.” When I held it out, my mind drifted back to when I was seventeen and used a fake to get into a club for the first time. My heart had hammered in my chest while the bouncer gave it a once over, much like it hammered now when Jo took it from me.

“Awesome. I’ll make a copy and you can fill out your W-4.”

W-4? What the hell is that? “Great.”

“So, this is the place. It’s looked the same since I used to come here with my uncle when I was a little kid. Though, the saddle stools are newer.” She pointed to one of the bar stools crafted out of a western saddle. “And they made a little loft not long ago. But other than that, nothing changes, except we add a few more trinkets to the walls every year.”

I wondered how that was possible since there was barely an inch not covered with some strange memorabilia. As she took me around giving me the rundown of the history and nuances, I noticed even the bar had stuff in it. Underneath a thick coat of lacquer were historical photos from Baileys Harbor with captions retelling the history. License plates lined the walls just below the ceiling, and when I turned around, I clutched my chest in surprise when I came face to face with a creepy white rabbit mask hanging off a nail.

“You get used to it all.” Jo had noticed my frozen face and continued on the tour. Even though it was still light out, the bar was aglow not from the sunlight but from the video games and gambling machines scattered around the corners. It helped while I tried to read all the bumper stickers, and I realized by the end of my time here, whenever that was, I probably still wouldn’t have seen everything in this bar.

“It’s haunted, but nothing bad will happen. Just weird stuff sometimes.”

“What?” That little tidbit of info had me ready to run out the door.

“Nothing to be scared of, but sometimes things get moved when you’re here alone. Just last week I heard a clatter in the kitchen and found things scattered all over. I was here by myself.”

Swallowing hard, I tried to keep from letting my bulging eyeballs pop out of my head.

“There’s a haunted trolley tour that comes through a couple nights a week and you get to hear all our haunted history. It gets really busy really fast, so I won’t put you on those shifts until you’re ready.”

“A haunted trolley tour?” The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt like eyes were peering out of the knots in the few spots I could see in the wooden walls.

“Really good money, though.”

“Mmmhmm.” I swallowed, remembering that money was why I was here. You need this job, Cassandra, I thought while I kept myself from bolting past Captain Bailey and out the front door, picturing ghosts hot on my trail. Then I pictured him coming to life, turning his creepy head to look at me and a shiver snaked down my side.

“And this is bimini.” She pointed to the bull’s head with a hook on its nose mounted to the wall. “You grab this string with the metal ring and try to swing it and catch it on the hook.” Grabbing the string dangling from the ceiling she stood back, pulling it tight, then let it loose. The little silver hook dipped low while it swung and then rose and landed on the bull’s nose.

“Whoa,” I said, impressed with her skill.

“I’ve been here for six years. Lots of practice.” With a grin she took me behind the bar. “Tap beers are here, bottles in the coolers, cold shots in this one, and we’ve got the booze here, here and here.”

Following her pointing finger, I tried to make sense of everything and keep up.

“Cash register is easy. No computers here. Price list is there.” She pointed to a yellow sheet of paper with some prices jotted down beside the alcohol names. “Just take their money, hit these buttons to total everything up, then this one when you’re done.” When she pushed the last button, the drawer popped open.

“Menu’s easy, too. Just burgers, cheese curds, onion rings, and stuff. No need to memorize fancy specials at the Ox.”

Cheese curds? What the hell is a cheese curd?

It hadn’t occurred to me I’d be serving food. I hoped my years of ordering at restaurants would give me enough of an idea of how to play the part of the person taking the order instead of the one giving it.

The door swung open and an older man wearing a flannel, torn jeans and a Packers hat sauntered in and slid into a stool at the end.

“Hey, Larry,” Jo said, and he greeted her with a grunt. “Grab him a draft of Bud Light, would ya?”