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“Er, that’s Lexie,” stammers Ian, who is clearly out of his depth here. “Our barmaid.”
“I know who she is, thanks,” drawls Asher. “What I want to know is what she’s doing here? What idiot let her in?”
“That would be me,” says Maureen helpfully, raising her hand from the back of the room, where she’s been pretending to clear tables while blatantly staring at Jett and Violet as if they’re exhibits in a museum. “Well, me and Big Ian here. It was a joint decision. Ye see, Old Jimmy had upset the last barmaid and—”
“What the fuck is wrong with these people?” says Asher, raising his eyes to the heavens, and speaking as if to himself. “Why would they think we’d want Lexie Steele working the bar, when she’s justattackedone of my clients? You’re lucky you’re not being sued,” he says, turning to me, his eyes cold. (Well,colder. Asher’s never been exactly warm…) “Violet’s still terrified after your little stunt yesterday. I’ve a good mind to take out a restraining order on you, to keep you away from her. That’s what Violet suggested.”
“Oh, come on, it was a handful of cold chips,” I burst out, before I can stop myself. “If that’s all it takes to ‘terrify’ her, then—”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ian frantically gesturing for me to stop talking, and, for once in my life, I decide to do as I’m told.
“I’m very sorry if I caused any distress,” I say primly, painfully aware that every eye in the room is currently fixed on me. “I will, of course, pay for any damage.”
Iwont, of course, pay for any damage. Partly because I know there isn’t any (Seriously, though, how much “damage” can a handful of soggy chips really do?), but mostly because I couldn’t afford it even if there was. Nevertheless, I know I’m playing a part here, so I reach into my apron and pull out the £22 (I leave the 56p where it is. Let’s not get carried away here…) and hold it out to Asher, who looks at it as if it’s some kind of relic from a bygone age, and then whips it out of my hand before I can even blink.
“Well, that’s not going to go far,” he says, amused. “But I guess we can call it a down payment.”
I gape at him in horror. I only offered him that money because I was sure he wouldn’t take it, and I wanted to look like I was at leasttryingto make amends. Who takes £22 from abarmaid, for God’s sake?
My bottom lip starts to tremble. For some people, this would be a sign that they’re about to burst into tears. For me, though, it’s much more likely to mean I’m about to say something I will almost definitely regret, and I take a step backwards in panic, wondering if I could try to make a run for it before the words on the tip of my tongue come bursting out of me, to predictably disastrous effect.
“That’s enough, Asher. Give her the money back.”
Jett’s voice stops me in my tracks.
He’s standing behind Asher: he must have gotten up while I was too busy panicking to notice. I look up at him, wondering what he’s doing.
“Come on,” he says, speaking to his manager. “Give it back. This isn’t cool, Asher. You know that.”
“Thisisn’t cool?” Asher says, eyebrows raised. “What about the little stuntshe’strying to pull?” he goes on, nodding at me. “Turning up here when she knows she isn’t wanted?”
“I don’t think she’s trying to pull any kind of stunt,” Jett says mildly. “It looks to me like she’s just trying to do her job. So why don’t we leave her to it, hey? She’s not bothering anyone, Asher. All she’s been doing is collecting glasses. Hardly the crime of the century, is it?”
I blink in surprise.
Does this mean he did notice me, after all? Has he been watching me this whole time?
Asher’s eyebrows are so close to his hairline now I’m starting to hope they’ll stick like that, and he’ll have to walk around with a permanently surprised look on his face for the rest of his life. That would serve him right.
“She shouldn’t be here at all,” he snaps, shooting a look of disgust at Ian, who looks like he might disintegrate under the force of it. “And she might not be doing any harm by collectingglasses, but that’s not what you said yesterday, when she was attacking your girlfriend, was it?”
His girlfriend. He referred to Violet as Jett’s girlfriend. I think this might be the thing that kills me.
I look at Jett hopefully, but he doesn’t bother to deny it, or even to argue with Asher about what he said yesterday, whatever it was.
Whatwasit, though? What did you say about me yesterday, Jett?
Instead he just stands there, his presence creating a kind of invisible barrier between me and Asher, but not doing much to make me feel any better about everything that’s just gone down here. Especially the bit where Asher said I wasn’t wanted, and no one bothered to disagree.
I’mnotwanted, though. Not by anyone, really, but particularly not by Jett, who might have come to my defense, just like he did during our very first meeting, when some drunk guy was hassling me in a bar (A different bar from this one, but… notthatdifferent, now I come to think of it.), but who hasn’t so much as glanced at me while he did it.
I swallow hard, wishing I had some of Ian’s watered-down whiskey to give me a tiny bit of Dutch courage here.
I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to work this shift. The debtor’s jail is sounding like a much better option by the second.
I don’t know how long we might have all stood there, in this awkward, three-way standoff, if someone in the bar hadn’t chosen this exact second to turn the volume on the TV up. It blares out suddenly, breaking the tense silence of the room, and making everyone turn to look at it accusingly.
It’s tuned to a news station; whoever is in control of the remote must not have been able to find the Dodgers game, or whatever weird sport they were looking for. Instead, they’ve found the local news station, on which the same reporter who brought usthe breaking news that Jett and Violet had landed in Scotland, is standing in front of…
