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“Isn’t it great? She had one calledFuck Fearwith lemon and cypress.”
“Sounds like a mother you don’t mess around with.” Lila leans over so that she can see my shoes. “None of those look comfortable.”
“I know. I think Gabe goes barefoot in the bar. He wasn’t wearing shoes when he ran at us last night.”
“You better not. Your feet will kill you, and you’ll stub your toe a thousand times.”
She’s right. I’m not exactly graceful.
Rosie babbles, waving her arms. The two of them are quite the picture with the curtains stirring behind them. Lila wears a pink shirt and white shorts that match Rosie’s pink jumper. At this moment, I’m so glad Dodge took off. He might not have let her come if he were around. And she’d have obeyed him. She always did. Him leaving was the best thing to happen to her, in my mind at least.
But Asshole Dodge is another reason I can never leave her. She’s vulnerable. She needs me to watch out for her now that Ensley won’t be part of our day-to-day lives.
I pick up a pair of red, thick-soled flip-flops. “I think it’s going to have to be these. Everything else has a heel or is too strappy or flimsy.”
Lila nods. “Then go with that red shirt with yellow flowers. And the denim miniskirt. You can bend over in it?”
“Yeah. I can wear biker shorts underneath it.”
“Do you think the guys here will be as awful as the ones back home?”
Rosie drops her teething ring, and Lila scoops it up and blows on it to give it back. I walk over to extract it and wash it off in the bathroom sink. After working in bars, I can’t handle anything that hits the ground. “I have a feeling rowdy drunks are the same the world over.”
“But Gabe will defend you.”
I hand the teething ring to Rosie, who promptly chucks it to the ground again. This time I let it be. “Yes, he probably will.”
But do I want that? I’m used to handling my own ugly incidents. The bars where I’ve worked almost never had bouncers near the bar, and if they did, they were tied up with actual fistfights, not nasty comments between drunk men and the female staff.
Rosie howls, so Lila stands. “I’ll try to find a spot with Rosie to see some of it. I won’t be that mom with a screaming child trying to hang out with the singles, but I’d like to at least take a peek.” She scoops up the teething ring. “Time for your nap, missy.”
She leaves with Rosie, and I consider the ensemble. The red, flowered shirt is cute, tied at the waist, cap sleeves. The denim skirt fits well. All in all, a good choice.
So now that I’ve chosen the outfit, I have to get my head wrapped around Gabe, his mother, and this crazy event I’m about to take part in.
Only one couple sits at the bar when I show up an hour ahead of the official start of the booze brawl.
When Gabe looks up and sees me, his face brightens from serious concentration to something lighter, happier.
A glow blossoms in my chest. We might argue like an old married couple, but he’s glad to see me. He can’t hide it.
He’s changed into a yellow shirt with red flowers. It’s a good pairing for mine, like we did it on purpose. I don’t think he notices this, though. He gestures to the back and opens his counter for me to enter.
I was right. Gabe is barefoot in his bar. The smooth wood floor is well worn, but I have a feeling that my tender city feet will get awfully sore if I try to match him. I miss my bar boots.
He’s brought in a small rolling cart stacked with the bottles we’ll need on the top tray. The lower one is filled with hollowed coconut husks.
“I brought this from home to organize the liquors. This first row is for our two layered drinks. Then your high-end whiskey with whatever you’re doing for the second drink.” His palms brush the tops of the bottles in a caress that makes parts of my body tighten.
“I like it. And when things get busy, we can always wheel it to the side to be out of our way.”
“Or I can have Anya or Mendo take it out of here if things get crazy afterward.” He quirks a smile. “Given that you will be here all night working for me.”
“You’re sure you’re going to win?”
He washes his hands, a chuckle escaping as he dries them on the bar towel. “I have no idea what to expect from this. We have the least impartial judges in the history of judging. Flyers all over town might draw an outrageous crowd, or potentially no one at all.” He shakes his head. “I’m winging it in a way that I never wing anything.”
I pull the glassware I’ll need. “Same. I like my bar neat and orderly. But you never can plan for how a night goes, like a van full of jerks showing up, already drunk.”
