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I was hungry and tired by the time I got to St. Roses, but I was determined to find a job before I got back to Horseshoe Ranch. I wanted to be able to make a way for myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on the Hamiltons for anything. As much as I loved being with them and as much as I appreciated everything they’d done for me, I didn’t want to take advantage of them.
And now that Chet and I had been intimate, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.
I parked and looked down the street. It definitely was a lot busier here in St. Roses. It didn’t have the quaint, tranquil feel of Horseshoe Valley, but Horseshoe Valley didn’t have people. St. Roses definitely did. I watched three middle-aged guys head inside a building, laughing. The sign above the door said St. Roses Exclusive Club.
“A bar,” I thought to myself. Well, I’d gotten a job at a bar once before, maybe I’d be able to get one now. I reapplied my lipstick and headed inside. It was crowded, which I thought was a good sign.
I headed over to the side and stopped next to the countertop. “Hi,” I said to the bartender.
The bartender was missing a front tooth. He nodded. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Um, I was actually wondering if you were hiring.”
He looked me up and down. “Saw the ad in the paper?”
“No, but I heard that—”
“Hold on,” he cut me off. “Hey, Jimmy!” he shouted towards the back.
“Yeah?” a deep voice shouted back.
“There’s a girl come about the ad.”
“She good looking?” the voice shouted back, and I blushed.
He glanced at me. “Yeah, pretty fine.”
“Okay. I’m coming,” Jimmy responded.
“You stand right there,” the bartender told me. “He’ll be out to interview you.”
“Thank you,”
I waited for the guy, Jimmy, to come out, and I tried not to shudder when I saw him. He was about six foot four and three hundred pounds with a long gray beard. He wore dark sunglasses and a black leather jacket on top of a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans.
“You here about the job?”
I gave him my best smile. “Yeah, I am.”
“You ever done this kind of work before?”
“No, I don’t have much experience. But I’m a fast learner.”
“Okay. And you like music?”
“Sure,” I said nodding.
“You can dance?”
“Um, I’m no Gene Kelly, but I can hold my own.”
“Okay. You want to come to the back with me?
“Um. To the back?” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean to fill out paperwork?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “And you know, for the interview portion.”
“Okay, sure.” I looked around the bar to see if anyone was paying attention to our conversation, but no one was looking at us.
