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He looked like the Devil in human form… if the Devil was a ruggedly handsome biker.
Luckily the Devil was in a good mood.
“Ahhh, you must be Fiona,” he drawled in that voice like smoke and bourbon.
“Mr. Shaw,” I said, suddenly a lot more intimidated than I had been with Jack.
“Call me Lou, not this Mr. Shaw bullshit,” he said, getting up from behind his desk and extending a powerful hand. It wasn’t overt, but he did a fair job of crushing me in his grip before letting go. “I understand we have a friend in common.”
I nodded. “Jack Pollari.”
Lou smiled, dangerous and sexy, and then noticed that Peanut was still standing at the door. “Get the fuck back out there,” he snapped.
Peanut hung his head and quickly retreated.
“So… Jack,” Lou said, back to his easy charm. “You two just met? At the diner where you work, so I understand?”
“He intervened when a trucker got a little handsy this morning.”
Lou smiled. “Well, I have to warn you, some of our customers like to get a little ‘handsy,’ too.”
That broke me free of his hypnotic, serpent-like charm. “Am I supposed to let them?” I asked coldly.
“Depends on how big you like your tips. If you don’t care, then a first-time warning should suffice. If the customer persists, call a bouncer.” His smile widened. “Although I hear you can take care of yourself.”
I didn’t know why Jack would have mentioned that, but I wasn’t going to undercut the impression. “I can, and usually do. Do I have to call a bouncer?”
His eyebrows raised in amusement. “No, not at all. Just don’t do any… permanent damage. Well… maybe just to the first one. It’s always good to make an example.”
“Um… okay…”
“Fifteen an hour. Normally there’s a quota for drinks, but we’ll waive that for the first couple of weeks. Friend of a friend and all that. When can you start?”
“Now, if you want.”
“Excellent. Go see Shelley behind the bar, she’ll set you up with a uniform and the paperwork, let you know your schedule. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I meant it. I had the uncomfortable feeling as I left his office that he was watching me like a rattler watches a baby mouse.
13
Shelley was a bubbly blonde a few years younger than myself. She got me my ‘uniform’ – a black, cropped bustier that showed off my midriff as much as my boobs.
“You can wear it with your jeans tonight, but tomorrow get some tight black pants and wear some black stilettos,” she said cheerily.
Things were mostly dead for a couple of hours. There was one other waitress, a fiery redhead named Arlene. It was clear she was pissed I was encroaching on her territory, so I mostly hung back and did nothing.
Then, around 10PM, the place exploded.
I went from nearly brain-dead with boredom to running my ass off and having to deal with leering insinuations and passes by the barrelful.
Whatever drawbacks there might have been to the job, though, it was a bonanza for reconnaissance.
Most of the explosion was due to a dozen Midnight Riders showing up. They were a motley crew, and not in a Nikki Sixx kind of way. There were a couple of young ones who looked like they’d just joined up out of high school; guys in their late twenties who looked hard and mean; and three or four long-haired old-timers in their 40’s who were louder and more obnoxious than all the others put together. The one thing they had in common, though, was the skull logo on the back of their jackets and kuttes.
One of them came over to the bar – a brown-haired twenty-something – and started flirting with Shelley. He wore a shy, goofy smile the whole time he did it.
“Hey, Shelly, how you doin’ tonight?”
