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“Uh – hi,” I said.
“You don’t mind if I take Fiona off your hands a bit early, do you, Lou,” Jack smirked.
“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” Lou said.
Suddenly I realized there was more here than met the eye. Jack wasn’t asking; Lou wasn’t pleased, and wasn’t shy about showing it. There was some sort of underlying tension between the two that was on a low simmer.
Jack Pollari was the President of the Midnight Riders.
Lou Shaw was the VP – but he wasn’t a particularly happy subordinate. And Jack wasn’t going out of his way to soothe any ruffled feathers.
I made a mental note to find out more, but right now, I really didn’t want to get caught in the middle.
“I could just close out my tabs, if you want,” I said to Lou.
“Why don’t you go do that,” Lou suggested. “Me and Jack, we need to talk for a minute.”
“Do we,” Jack said, his jaw setting like he was irritated.
“Just a minute of your time,” Lou smiled, then turned to me. “Go on, darlin’, get your tips.”
I gave Jack an apologetic wince, which he returned with a wink – but no smile.
I got the tab totals from Shelley and walked over to my customers – the paying ones, the guys without motorcycle jackets. “I’m closing out,” I announced.
They coughed up their cash and credit cards, which I dropped off with Shelley at the bar.
Mop-head was last. I made a mistake when I gave him his bill: I turned around to look back at Jack and Lou. They were deep in conversation, about what I had no idea –
And then I felt a hand cupping my ass again, with the fingers very inappropriately close to another part of my anatomy.
I wheeled around and slapped him across the face.
SMACK!
“Asshole!” I yelled.
Mop-head bellowed and stood up, now angry as a pissed-off bull.
Which made him about half as pissed-off as me.
“You stupid bitch!” the big dirtbag shouted, putting his hand on his cheek.
“You need anything?” a voice asked behind me.
I turned around to see Jack. “No, I got this one.”
He went from staring daggers at the dumbass to watching me in amusement. “Okay, then.”
“Hey – you! This your club?!” Mop-head yelled.
“No,” Jack said coldly.
“It’s mine. What’s the problem?” Lou asked as he walked up beside Jack.
“Your fuckin’ bitch hit me!” Mop-head roared.
“She ain’t my fuckin’ bitch,” Lou said mildly. “She’s just my employee.”
