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“Is your kid sick again?” he asked.
I laughed, bouncing on my toes to keep the adrenaline of the busy night flowing. I was liable to crash if I stopped. Four hours of running around had already brought a nice gleam of sweat to my skin, but I loved it.
“Nope, not this time.” I wasn’t going to get into the threat with a kind older man who seemed to frequent this bar just for our conversations. It didn’t matter that his gaze lingered on my chest for most of our conversations when he always tipped well over 100% of his substantial tab. “Can I get you started with a vodka and soda, or are you feeling adventurous today?”
He slammed his hand down on the bar as a laugh bellowed from him. “I’m thinking a vodka cranberry today, little lady. Can you make that happen?”
“You know it.”
I turned and got to work on the drink, and I noticed how Andrei moved a bit closer, sitting two seats down from the man. I wanted to roll my eyes at his intention, but I continued making the drink and slid it to my regular before turning to him. “You still have a full drink,” I told Andrei.
“Boss told me not to let any threats near you,” he said seriously.
I raised my brows and leaned forward, lowering my tone. “In the three years he’s been coming here, he’s spent about 60% of his time staring at my boobs. But his tips make it worth it, so back off.”
“Boss won’t like this.”
I scoffed. “Boss,” I mocked. “Doesn’t need to know. I’m fine, and if he doesn’t let me come here because someone’s leering at my boobs a few times a week, we’ll have bigger problems.”
Especially since Viktor had been sucking on them a few nights ago.
“I have to agree with him,” Andrei said “In a scene like this, we don’t know where the threats are. It’s hard to protect you from all angles, especially when a fight breaks out.”
“There hasn’t even been one tonight,” I argued. He raised a brow skeptically. “Okay, there probably will be, but the bouncers take care of that.”
“And what happens if someone pulls a gun in the commotion?”
I reached forward and patted him on the arm. “That’s why you’re here. You watch for weapons, and I’ll do my job. It’s a match made in heaven.”
I turned my back to him and walked away, but I heard his voice follow me. “A cheery demeanor isn’t going to save you from a bullet,” he shouted.
My eyes fixed on the nearly empty Crown bottle in front of me, so I took a mental note to get that from the back in a few minutes. My cheery demeanor was the only thing that kept me going in a bar as rough as this one, and it seemed to make the customers more inclined to leave substantial tips, so unless I had a reason to be serious and morose like Viktor and Andrei, I wouldn’t.
I took mental note of the empty bottles and strode away from the back of the bar and into the kitchen that had long closed for the night. No cooks remained and everything was locked behind metal cages, so I pulled the key from the chain around my neck and opened it, pulling the bottles free and re-locking it. I somehow managed to carry four at once back into the bar, and when I entered, I cringed at the scene before me.
Just as Andrei had predicted, a fight broke out around the pool tables, and one of the men wielded a pool stick like a weapon as he shouted at another man. A few people tried to step between them, but whatever had happened made them angry enough that none of their friends could stop the inevitable fight. Fists began swinging, and I groaned, knowing it would be my job to ban them from the bar.
But Andrei was up and moving through the crowd like an arrow. I watched as he broke the men apart, throwing one to the ground before the bouncers intervened and grabbed both burly guys. They forcefully pulled them out of the building, but the damage was already done. Violence hung heavy in the air, and I knew it would only be a matter of time until another argument came. It was like a floodgate opening every night. Once the first fight happened, there were always plenty more to come.
A firm hand at my wrist caught my attention, and I tried pulling it away. “I was trying to get your attention,” an intoxicated man said. “I have to order a drink.”
I forced a smile. “It’s hard to make one when you’re holding my wrist.”
He looked me up and down, seemingly unimpressed by what he saw. It didn’t matter, of course. I wasn’t trying to please anyone—especially not a man who blatantly grabbed my wrist and talked down on me as if I were a child.
“You’re just going to let people fight in here without any repercussions?” he asked, still not releasing me.
“The bouncers took care of it. I’m not allowed to intervene in a fight like that.”
He scoffed as if my words were ridiculous and somehow inconvenient to him. “Hell, now the night’s ruined. People are pissed, and the fun is over. Your job is to make it fun for everyone. It’s why they pay you so much.”
“Hey, buddy. Maybe leave the girl alone. She’s supposed to be making me another drink,” my regular chimed in, smiling at him as if they were old friends. I saw the protective gleam in his eyes, though.
He tightened his grip on my wrist and moved his other hand to his waist.
My heart skidded to a stop as I saw what he had there. Somehow the man had brought a gun into the bar, despite the clear warnings not to do so. I felt myself descending into a pit of panic as all the images of people shot and killed seeped into my mind. All the things that could happen at the barrel of a gun terrified me, and knowing a drunk man wielded it made my unease grow tenfold.
I couldn’t think or breathe properly as he met my eyes again and said something to me. The words rushed through my ears, and I couldn’t comprehend a single one. How thehelldid he have a gun here?
