8. An Acquired Taste #2
Jesse clenches his jaw as he nods to the spirits on the top shelf. "Hey, princess, why don't you pour Miguel some Johnny, huh?" He taps Miguel's shoulder as I spin around, rising on my tiptoes and grabbing the bottle of premium scotch. "First round's on me."
"Why don't we all have a round?" Miguel suggests, gazing darting between Jesse and Yeti. "What do you say? "
"Fine. Pour three," Jesse agrees with a grunt, and I retrieve three old fashioned glasses. I pour the scotch and slide each tense man a drink. "To The Sons." He looks down at Miguel as he adds through gritted teeth, "And our partnership."
"To Los Caballero." Miguel grins, tapping his glass against Jesse and Yeti's before taking a slow sip. He releases a liquor-infused exhale. "Ah...it never gets old." He glances at me. "Savannah, have you ever tried scotch?"
"I don't really drink," I admit sheepishly with a shrug. "I've had some sangria before; that was pretty tasty. Kind of gave me a headache afterward, though."
"Sangria?" Jesse asks, snorting. "What are you? Twelve?"
"Twelve? Seriously? Is that when you started drinking?" I flash him a smug smirk. "Well, that sure does explain a lot."
Before Jesse can return a comeback, Miguel sniffs his drink, musing, "It takes a mature palate to appreciate a good scotch." He slides over the glass. "But I think you might enjoy it. Here." He taps the rim. "Taste it."
"No." Jesse wraps his hand around the top of the glass and pushes it back to Miguel. "She's working."
"And you're not?" Miguel lifts a brow as his cell phone rings.
"Double standards, no?" He pulls out his phone from his pocket, cursing in Spanish under his breath.
"Please excuse me; I need to take this." His rich brown eyes burrow into mine as he adds, "I'll be seeing you around, Savannah.
" Turning around, he pats Jesse on the chest. "Tell Billy that we're still waiting.
" Jesse swallows as Miguel leans in and whispers loud enough for me and Yeti to hear, "We don't like waiting. "
"Relax, Miguel, we're good for it.” Jesse clears his throat. "They should be back any day now."
"Better be," Miguel sings, answering his phone as he strides away.
"Fuck, man." Yeti lets out a long breath as if he had been holding it for hours . "Billy and Jim better get back soon. We don't need this shit right now."
I frown. What am I missing?
"Is something wrong?" I ask, wiping the counter. "Y'all are more tense than a couple of spooked cows."
"Nothing that concerns that pretty little head of yours," Jesse says, sipping the scotch in his hand. He sighs, closing his eyes. "Listen, princess, next time Miguel comes in here, let me know right away, okay?"
"Why?" I nibble on my bottom lip, curiosity piquing. "Who is he?"
"Trouble," Jesse says, taking a seat across from me. Yeti plops down, pointing to the draft beer. Freaking Neanderthal. Words? I don't know her. I roll my eyes and pour him a pint anyway.
"Jesus, man, I knew this was a bad idea." Jesse clicks his tongue, looking at Yeti. "First those fucking snakes, and now this? It's not worth it, brother. It's not."
"What is going on?" I cross my arms, trying to decipher his despondent tone. "What kind of trouble?" My heart drops. "Is something wrong? Is Beau gonna be okay?”
"Sure hope so," Yeti mumbles, chugging his beer. "'Else, we're fucked. "
"What do you mean hope so! " My eyes widen with fear. "What are you talking about?" I whip my head at Jesse. "What's he talking about?"
"Fuck, dude." Jesse sighs, shoving Yeti off the stool. "What are you trying to do? Give her a fucking heart attack? Go have a smoke or something," Jesse grumbles. "Jesus."
"Yeah, sure." Yeti scratches his head, mildly hurt, as he strides away. "Good idea."
"Ignore him. He's a fucking idiot," Jesse mutters, shoulders slumped as he twirls his scotch around. "All of 'em are."
"Why?" I ask, anxiety spiking. "What's going on? Tell me."
"Nothing." He snaps his defeated gaze up at me. "Relax, princess. Your brother's fine, okay? Nothing's gonna happen to him."
"Who was that guy?" I double down, lowering my voice. "Why is he trouble?"
"You should really stop trying to stick your nose where it doesn't belong," Jesse groans. "Drop it."
"Doesn't belong?" I scoff. "Whether you like it or not, your business is my business because Beau is my brother, so you better tell me who in the world that man was." I perk up an impatient brow. "Well? Who is he?"
"You're not gonna drop this, are you?"
"Nope," I state. "If you don't tell me, I'll just keep prying all night until you finally wave a silky white flag."
"Fuck's sake..." Jesse sighs as the overpowering scent of Andy's perfume floats through the bar. Begrudgingly, he locks on my gaze, his tone bordering with contempt as he divulges, "Miguel works for the cartel, okay? You might want to be careful around him, Savannah."
"Cartel?" I whisper harshly, my heart sinking. Cartel?! Now there's a cartel in the mix? I need to get Beau out of here as soon as damn possible. "Like the Mexican cartel? Like the ones you see on TV? That cartel? "
"This ain't a TV show, princess," Jesse mutters. "You need to need to watch yourself around him, got it? This is my only warning."
"But..." I chew on my bottom lip, glancing at the door Miguel left through. He didn't look scary, though. He didn't give me the chills. I couldn't sense that he was...dangerous. "But he...he looked so... normal ."
"Miguel Mendoza is anything but normal ." Jesse snorts, polishing off his scotch as Andy appears behind the bar. Jesse gives me a tight-lipped smile. "Shift's over. Let's go."
"Uh-huh," I mumble, praying that Beau's alright. "Give me a second."
"How many have you had?" Andy asks Jesse in a sour tone as I scoot past her and drop my apron into the cubby under the register. Jesse ignores her, standing up and leaving. Andy snaps her diva attention at me. Great . "How many did he have?"
"I don't know," I say with a defeated shrug. "One?"
Andy scoffs. "Honey, it's never just one." She glances over her shoulder at Jesse. "You shouldn't let him ride if he's drunk . The last thing we need is another dead Paxton. "
"Savannah!" Jesse calls, strutting out the front doors. "Let's fucking go."
"Another one?" I ask, grabbing my sweater and draping it over my shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, he hasn't cried about his mommy yet?" Andy asks with a phony pout. "Awe, that's too bad."
"What?" A wave of sympathy washes over me. "His momma passed? When?"
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Andy shoots me daggers. "Since you're living together and shit."
"I've said it once, and I'll say it again, I'm just staying with him until my brother comes back; that's all, " I state, uncomfortable with what she's suggesting. "Nothing more."
Little does she know it's radio silence most of the time. We eat, we watch some TV, and we sleep. Not a lot of talking happening in the Paxton residence.
"Right," Andy sneers. "Whatever you say."
"I don't like what you're implying." I glower at Andy as Marlow stops in front of the register and observes us with an entertained gaze. "If you have a problem with me staying with Jesse, then say it. This whole passive-aggressive charade is getting old real quick."
"Problem?" She scoffs, flipping her thick raven hair.
"Honey, I don't have a problem with you shacking up with my ex.
" She shrugs. "I personally hate leftovers, but you're to free nibble on mine all you want.
" She tosses me a bitchy smile. "That man might look good, but he's damaged goods. Trust me."
My jaw drops. "That is quite rude. "
"But quite accurate, no?" She shoves past me, scoffing. "Nighty night, Goldilocks.”
"Mew, mew, mew, mew," I mimic under my breath, irritated. "Dang, she's annoying."
"Shit," Marlow chuckles as I round the bar. "Thank God I'm off soon. Poor Gina's gotta work with the wicked bitch of the east tonight."
"Yeah, good luck to her," I mumble as Marlow gives me a quick hug before I meander toward an agitated Jesse.
Now we're both pissed. Lovely. Another silent night. It might as well be Christmas.
"Night, Sav! Night JP!" Marlow hollers. "Drive safe."
"Let's go." I storm past Jesse in a huff, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him out of the bar. "Come on. Hurry up."
"Hey, I was ready to leave," Jesse notes. "You're the one taking her sweet ass time."
"Stop talking," I say, picking up my pace. "Shouldn't be an issue seeing as you've practically been mute these past two days."
"Wow..." Jesse scratches his head, shooting me an amused glance. "Who pissed in your cornflakes?"
"Your ex-girlfriend is a real bitch," I grumble. "Did you know that?"
"A bitch?" He genuinely looks taken aback as he grins. “Wow… What did she say to elicit a such a strong reaction from Miss Golly Gee?"
I study Jesse's features, the outer layer brimming with masked humor.
But if I look real close, then I can kind of see it.
I can see the forlorn glint of loss in his eyes.
It's hiding there, behind twigs and branches.
But it's there, like a trap hole. And if he's not careful, he might fall in and not be able to get back out.
"Nothing," I mumble, grabbing the helmet off the handlebars. "Let's go. I'm hungry."
"Okay..." Jesse rubs his chin in thought. "What do you want to eat tonight?"
I snort. "Leftovers would be just fine."