Chapter 19
Vee
The bass pounds through the building, the vibrations working their way up from the floor through my legs. The glass bottles on the shelves behind me rattle, and I wonder if the music was always this loud and I was just oblivious to it.
The inside of the bar glows with neon lights of various colors, sweat and perfume fill the air while men and some women drink, ogling the women on the stage. And I feel at home. I’ve missed the bar, more than I’d ever admit to anyone.
Christmas Eve and the place is packed. Fuckers should be at home with their families, setting out cookies and milk for Santa and filling stockings with goodies. Instead, they’re here, stuffing dollar bills in strippers’ g-strings. It doesn’t make sense.
I shake it off as I wipe down the counter for the third time in five minutes. My eyes drift over to the new bartender, Jennalyn. She’s worthless. In the time I’ve been here tonight, she hasn’t cleaned a thing, and the only men she helps are the ones who are, shall we say, more physically appealing.
Shaking my head, I move down to one of the patrons seated at the end of the bar, right on the curve so he can see the whole bar.
He’s been here for about an hour and is still nursing the same beer I gave him when he sat down.
He’s tall, broad shoulders that are barely hidden beneath a worn leather jacket.
His dark shoulder length hair shows the beginning of changing as silver strands are scattered throughout.
A pale raised scar cuts across his cheekbone.
His eyes follow me and a small shiver runs up my spine, but I shake it off.
The only words we’ve spoken to each other the whole night are when I asked him what he wanted to drink. Now that I think about it, I haven’t noticed him speaking to anyone. Not even the guy who sat down beside him.
I make way down to his end of the counter, continuing to wipe down the bar top. When I get closer to him, he clears his throat and my eyes shift to him.
“Can I get another one?” he asks. “And a shot of Jack.”
I nod. “Sure thing. Same beer?”
“Yeah.” A half-smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’s your name?”
I reach in the cooler, pulling out a bottle of Budweiser and pop the top off, setting it down on the counter in front of him. “Vee,” I tell him as I pour him another shot of whiskey since his is gone, then slide it across the bar top to him.
“Crowd’s wild for Christmas Eve,” he says, and I guess we’re making small talk now. “Thought this place would be empty.”
“Have to say I thought the same. But I guess people have different ideas of how to celebrate. Where some want to spend time with family, others want to see naked women on a pole,” I smile, taking my rag and cleaning up the bar where I spilled a little bit of liquor.
He cocks his head to the side, studying me for a minute. “Then what are you doing here?”
I hesitate for a second, wondering why this man is asking me, then shrug it off. All he’s doing is making conversation. “Working.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” He leans back slightly on the stool, and I have to hold my breath, prepared for him to fall backward off it.
But he doesn’t. “You should be home with your family.
Don't you have kids? Someone waiting for you?” He lifts the shot of Jack and downs it in one swallow, then slides it back over to me. “Another.”
“No kids. No family.” My voice goes soft, my heart clenching thinking about what I’m missing out on. I did have three men, if things had gone well, we could’ve been sharing our first holiday together.
“None?” His brows knit together.
“Just a brother.” I glance down the bar, checking if anyone needs me. “I’m working so other people can be with theirs.”
The man nods slowly. “That’s…noble. Or lonely.”
“Sometimes both,” I say not even thinking, sliding his newly replenished shot back over to him.
He taps his fingers against the glass of his beer bottle. “What about a boyfriend? Surely a looker like you has to have one.”
The question lands harder than I expect.
It shouldn’t hurt this bad to be asked if I have one.
But it does. My eyes drift, without meaning to, toward the door.
But now Hank is standing there and his eyes are looking my way.
When he sees me watching him, he gazes away and heads toward the stairs leading up to Bash’s office.
A subtle dismissal if I’ve ever seen one.
I look back at the man. “No.” Then, softer I add, “Not anymore.”
“His loss. A girl like you won’t be single long,” the man adds before taking a swallow of beer. “I’m Abraham by the way.”
I offer him a smile. “Nice to meet you. Time to get back to work,” I tell him before moving back down the bar. My eyes drift back up, seeking Hank. He’s at the foot of the stairs talking to Carlos.
The night continues on, and with each passing minute, the bitch Jennalyn pisses me off more. If she’s going to be working with me every night, then I’m going to have to find another job. Being here with Hank is bad, but having to deal with her is beyond any torture that his proximity is giving me.
I watch as Jennalyn grabs two bottles of beer from the cooler and steps from behind the counter, totally ignoring the two older men trying to get her attention.
My eyes follow her as she weaves through the crowd heading toward Hank.
He’s still standing at the bottom of the stairs with Carlos.
A small part of me wants to think she’s making her way over to flirt with Carlos.
But when she places her hand on Hank's chest, I see red. His eyes shift over to me, and instead of pushing her away, he steps into her. A sharp pain rips through my heart and I feel the last pieces of it breaking apart. He doesn’t care about me.
He’s moved on from me as if it were nothing.
I torture myself even more by stepping to the side so I can get a better look and that’s when I see his hand resting on her hip.
My eyes drop to the bar top, and I’m gripping the dishcloth so tightly that my knuckles are turning white.
I want to run over there screaming, ripping her hand off of him and remind him that he’s mine.
But he’s not because I won’t choose just him.
I can’t. Not when my heart belongs to three different men.
Work. I need to get back to work. I make my way down to the two men who were trying to flag down Jennalyn.
“What can I get you two?” I plaster a smile on my face.
“Two beers, and four shots of Tequila,” the one on the right tells me. “That other bartender just fucking ignored us,” he adds on.
“I’m sorry. She had an…um…emergency,” I say awkwardly, not wanting to call the bitch out for not doing her job. But my mind is firmly made up; Bash and I are having a talk. There is no way in hell I’m going to continue working with her.
“Yeah, right.” They both laugh. “But thankfully we have you.” They each give me a second look as they drag their tongues across their bottom lips hungrily.
Yeah, no thank you.
“That you do. I’ll be back to check on you.” I work my way back down, refilling a couple of shots and replacing some empty bottles of beer with new fresh ones.
When I make it back down to the end of the bar where my new friend Abraham is, he's holding up his empty bottle to let me know he’s ready for a refill.
“Someone should complain about your help. Seems she’s more interested in flirting than working.” His eyes drag over to Jennalyn.
“Well, we all have our idea of working.” It causes us both to laugh.
About ten minutes later, Jennalyn makes her way back over to the bar and comes to stand beside me.
“Make sure you take care of the customers before leaving. You had a couple guys trying to get some drinks before you left,” I tell her, trying my hardest not to sound like a bitch.
“Didn’t see anyone who needed help. Besides you were here and Hank and Carlos needed a beer.” Hearing Hank’s name on her tongue makes me want to rip it out.
“They’re big boys. They can handle getting their own beers. Make sure you’re taking care of the customers,” I tell her curtly.
“Had to take care of my man,” she says and her words sour my mood even more.
“You and Carlos are together?” I question praying she says yes.
“No,” she laughs. “He’s just a boy. Now Hank, he's a man, and he’s mine. I’m going to be his ol’ lady. Mark my words.” One of the waitresses steps up to the bar and gives us an order for shots, and I take the opportunity to walk away and make them..
Hank and Jennalyn. I feel sick. After hearing the news and seeing his obvious comfort with having her touch him, nothing could make the night worse.
Thirty minutes later, I’m eating my words when Luke and Josh make their way toward the bar. Jennalyn immediately rushes to them, resting her arms on the bar, close to her body, so that her breasts are pushed forward.
“What can I get you boys?” she says huskily, her tongue dragging over her bottom lip.
“Nothing,” Luke says coldly, stepping so that he’s standing right in front of me. “Hey Vee. Can I get a beer?”
“Can I get one too?” Josh asks.
Jennalyn takes it as her chance, quickly speaking up. “I can get it for you.” She’s already reaching into the cooler.
“No thanks. Veronica has it for me,” he tells her.
“Who’s Veronica?” she pouts.
“That’s me,” I tell her snidely, placing two beers on the counter in front of them.
Them being here in the bar isn’t odd in itself. Well, for Josh, completely. He never comes here. But Luke and him being here together has me curious.
I go to step away and Josh reaches out, putting his hand on mine. “How are you?” he asks.
“Just peachy.” My eyes gaze through the small space between their bodies as I see Hank moving back to the door and Carlos headed our way.
“I came by Luca’s—”
“I know. He told me.” I don’t give him a chance to finish what he’s saying.
“Can the three of us talk?” he asks, gesturing between him, Luke and me.
My eyebrow arches as I stare at them.
“Please Vee. Just talk to us.” Luke all but pleads and I’m taken aback. Begging isn’t in his character.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell them softly.
Luke just grins, one that’s so familiar. He’s given it to me a million times. “Yes there is. I’ve missed you.”
“We’ve both missed you,” Josh adds.
God I’ve missed them. But there’s no version of this story where it ends happily and I’m with the three men who consume me.
They’re both looking at me like they’re waiting for an answer and I don’t have one. I have no clue what to say.
“We just want to talk,” Josh adds. “No pressure.”
I shake my head. “Not tonight. Luca’s expecting me.”
I step away making my way back down to my new friend who greets me with a smile. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Luke and Josh still standing there, but now Carlos is with them.
All I want is to leave, but I stay where I am—watching, waiting—until the two men finally leave.