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“I’m with you,” I whisper.
He is suspicious, and I don’t blame him. Everything about me is completely suspicious at this point.
“I know you’re on the run and you’re safe when you’re in my bar, but when you’re here, you’re at work,” he states.
“I understand. I’ve worked bars before,” I say.
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Biker bars?” he asks. “Because they’re a whole different fucking breed.”
Taking a step toward him, I let out my own laugh. “You have no idea,” I reply. “Not a single one.”
“Good,” he snaps. “Now, let me show you around.”
It doesn’t take long for Charley to show me the bar. It’s pretty standard. It’s not fancy. Everything is on paper and simple. There are bar appetizers for food and then beer and hard booze. No fancy drinks, just simple mixes. It makes for an easy job for me.
“This is the employees’ bathroom. Sorry, it’s not a lounge. You’re one of the few women we have here. No locker room or anything, either.”
Smiling, I dip my chin in a nod, thanking him before I slip into the bathroom to freshen up before my shift. I’m startled by my reflection.
I’m not used to my new look.
I wanted to dye my hair, but because it’s naturally black, I didn’t have the time to lighten it. Plus, I can’t do that kind of damage to my hair. I used to color it all the time, and it took a toll. I’ve just got it healthy again.
I do have new contacts, though, which are really startling to see staring back at me in the mirror. I’m not used to bright-blue eyes. I don’t know how much of a difference that will make. Changing my look seems to be what keeps him away longer.
My outfit isn’t a typical one for me either.
I have always dressed on the sexy side, but this is a bit much, even for me.
I’m wearing a black corset and a pair of pleather stretchy leggings, along with red high heels. I’ve also made sure to put on the reddest of red lipsticks. Styling my hair, I put it half up and half down but make sure to give it volume by twisting and pinning it.
I would never wear this normally, but I’m not here to benormal.I am here to be someone other than my actual self.
I am here to be someone else.
A dream.
A nightmare.
Anyone other than Reese, who lived in Casa Grande and used to do hair.
Thoughts of my salon flash through my mind. I miss it. It’s probably been closed, and that fucks with Kiplyn and Piper, too. I pushed Kiplyn into going into a career where we could work together. She worked her ass off, and I abandoned her.
I’m such a fucking bitch.
I doubt they’ll ever want to see me again anyway. I should just stay the fuck away. Forever. I inhale in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and turn away from my reflection. I don’t really like that girl. I know she’s here to do a job and to survive, but it’s not me.
It’s not Reese.
It’s a complete stranger.
The only thing that matters right now is that Douglas doesn’t know where to find me. Yet. Everything else is just whatever it has to be in order to keep it that way. Walking out into the bar, I plaster on a smile as Charley opens the doors.
There is already a line of people, and I can’t help but wonder just how busy this bar is and then wince at the high heels I have on my feet. This is going to be a very long night, and my feet are going to be completely trashed by the end of it.
Making my way over to the actual bar, I take the small apron and wrap it around my waist before I grab the order book. I don’t need one. I learned a long time ago how to memorize orders, but I could be rusty, so I take the blank book just in case.
“You the new girl?” a deep voice murmurs.
