Chapter 2
2
CADENCE
" O rder for the boss's table," I say, pushing the ticket through the window to the grizzled man on the other side. As always, he grunts as he takes it. He's going for grumpy, but the man looks like a younger Santa Claus, and he just can't pull it off.
"It's a good thing he upgraded the walk-in. I had to triple the wing order after they all came in the first time. Those big fuckers eat a lot."
Big fuckers is right. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was looking at a table full of rugby players. Big, muscular and yummy with thick thighs and– You’re working Cadence, focus.
Laughing, I leave him to it as I circulate again, taking a few more drink orders. All the while, I sneak glances at the table of big men in the back. I've met most of them at my rescue, but they were drunk and running amok like a bunch of kids.
Sober, they pack a punch. They ooze power and confidence enough to make little old me shy.
Nah. Who am I kidding? I don't have a shy bone left in my body. Haven't for years. And I'm woman enough to admit they're all yummy and I look forward to seeing them again.
Especially Maverick. My boss.
And isn't that just a bummer? The hottest guy I've seen in a year, maybe longer, and he's off-limits. It's so sad, because the second I spotted him, a whole list of very athletic activities I wanted to do with him ran through my brain.
God, the things I would do to that man…if he weren't my boss.
I drop off some beers to a table of guys in suits, then head back to the kitchen. I need help getting all the wings to the boss's table, but I make sure I put the plates I'm carrying right in front of him.
Sue me. I want a quick sniff.
I want another hit of that warm, musky smell. I love the way a man smells when his aftershave or cologne is only a memory, and all that's left on his skin is him. I've learned from very personal experience that if I like a man's natural smell over dinner, I'm really going to like it when he's sweaty from working me over.
And Maverick's smell? Addictive.
But nope, not going there. Not ever.
I need this job too much. The tips are fantastic, and the staff are kind and welcoming. Honestly, it's the best side hustle I've ever had, and I have had a lot of them.
A lot.
So I take care of my tables, and leave the boss alone. They all seem to be in the middle of a big conversation, and it doesn't seem like the moment to interrupt. Servers who ask how things are while your mouth is full have a special place in hell. That'll never be me.
I'm in a little alcove near the kitchen giving my feet a break from the high heels, the only downside to this job honestly, when that warm smooth voice sends a shiver up my spine.
"Cadence," he says.
What's a girl supposed to do? I smile up at him, and firmly move him into the do not fondle category in my head. "Hey Boss. What can I do for you?" Dammit Cady, stop batting your eyelashes. He is not for you. Those suckers have a mind of their own though, and it's a struggle to stop them.
He clears his throat, eyes dancing over my face. "Ah, we need a few more orders of wings."
"More? Wowzers. You guys sure can pack it away."
He grins, just a little one, and I have to lock my knees. He has dimples. Honest to god dimples.
Dammit. How badly do I really need this job?
It's the only thing keeping my head above water, so pretty damn bad.
"I'll put in the order for you, and bring it out as soon as it's ready."
Maverick nods slowly, eyes roaming around my face with what I like to think is appreciation. "I'll wait."
"Right. Okay." I move to the order window, and speak quietly to Benny the cook then circle the very large man standing in the middle of the servers prep area to scan my tables. All of them seem happy, most of them busy watching Jasmine's sexy hips sway on the stage. I don't blame them. She's mesmerizing.
I turn back to Maverick, who's still standing there, hands in his pockets. But he's not watching Jasmine and her spectacular hips. No, he's looking at me.
"You know, this is a really great club you have here," I say, hugging my tray to my chest.
His eyebrows raise, and he tilts his head. "Yeah?"
"I'll admit, when I first came in for the interview, I wasn't sure what to expect. But it's been fantastic so far. The staff is great, the customers are happy, and the atmosphere is just...fun." Hearing the way Bree talked about this place, I knew it wasn't the typical strip club, not that I know much about those, but I didn't really know what to expect.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and lord help me, those dimples pop again. "I'm glad to hear that. We've worked hard to make it a place people want to be."
"Well, you've succeeded." I can't help but smile back at him. "I'm really enjoying working here."
"I'm glad," he says, voice a little rough. He clears his throat and glances away for a moment. "This is a strange coincidence, isn't it? You working here?"
"Not really. I heard about it from Bree. She came in, hungover, for her volunteer shift one weekend and told me all about it. I was curious and checked the website. When I saw you were hiring, I thought it might be worth applying." Thankfully, they were hiring for evening shifts, which don't interfere with my work at the shelter at all. That's my number one requirement for a side gig. The puppies come first.
He nods, brow furrowed. "I thought you worked at the rescue, though. Like Jonas said, we donated a bunch. What happened to the money?"
Ok, maybe this guy isn't so hot.
The hint of accusation in his voice rubs me the wrong way and a tide of defensiveness rises in me, but I force myself to answer calmly. "I used most of it to fix up the building, some of it to start a spay and neuter program, and a little bit of it for my paycheck."
His brow furrows. "So it's gone? That's why you're here?"
"No, not all of it. But it's not my money. It's the rescue's money. Taking more would be unethical."
"Unethical," he murmurs, absently running his fingers along his jaw.
"Why do I suddenly feel like a criminal for getting a job?" I ask, honestly a little baffled. "Do you not want me to work here?"
His eyes widen. "No. It's not that. I just…it seems like you have a lot on your plate already."
A lot? Try all the things.
"I do. But I'm a grown-up. And I handle my business. If that means taking on an extra job, then that's what I do. I've done it before, and I'm sure there will be something after this." This being the massive financial hole I'm in. To be fair, it's not really a hole. More like a puddle. The debt is nearly gone, but I'm nowhere close to secure.
I need secure.
"You're going to burn out," he says firmly, squinting at me.
I shrug because he's not the first to say that, but also, he's wrong. I am a tornado of energy when I put my mind to it. "You don't need to worry about that boss. If you talk to Trixie, she'll tell you I'm a great employee. I show up on time, I have a great attitude, and the customers love me. You should be jumping for joy that I'm working for you."
Those brows rise again. They're so expressive, I feel like I know exactly what he's going to say.
"Jumping for joy?"
Yep. Nailed it.
"Uh-huh. I'm a killer package. Any boss would be thrilled to have me."
"Right. Killer," he repeats, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans.
Hiding my smile at the high pitch of his voice, I peek over at my tables, then excuse myself to take payments, deliver more drinks, and harmlessly flirt with a few men, guaranteeing myself a nice tip. I think I've done almost every entry-level job there is, but this one is my favorite by far. The tips are incredible.
Thank you tiny outfit, DD breasts, and ass that exits a room a minute after I do.
He's still standing there when I get back, but thankfully, I don't have to make more small talk. The way he's questioning my employment here is a little weird. Why does he care so much? Is he afraid I blew the money they donated? Are they going to want an audit?
Not that there's anything nefarious to find. I spent the money exactly the way I needed to, and I don't regret it. But still, the hot guy inquisition is a bit of a downer.
Benny slides the wings into the pass, then, literally two feet from me, looks me dead in the eye and rings the bell. Laughing, I reach for a plate.
"Thanks, Chef," I say, winking at him. The boss takes a few, and I follow him to the table, noticing another man has joined them. He's dressed casually, but his clothes scream money, and damn he looks good. I put my plates down, and back away quickly. Maverick tips his chin in my direction, then sits down with his brothers. And I go back to my job.
Maybe I sneak a few glances at the table. Though maybe not sneaky enough since a few of them grin over at me when they catch me looking. Grinning back, I give them a wink, then push everything out of my mind and just work. I'm here for a reason, and that reason is never very far from my mind.
Those men can drink, so I'm kept busy for the next few hours. A couple of them are sticking to water or pop, and I'm thankful I won't need to try and take anyone's keys. I'm fast, and wily, but still, they're huge. I deliver another ginger ale to Jonas. He lifts the glass and tips it at me.
"You are doing an excellent job. You are not chatty at all."
If I were a different kind of woman, I might find that insulting. Coming from him? Seems like a simple statement of fact. "You don't really seem like a chatty kind of guy."
"I'm not. Not with strangers."
"Ah. Well, technically, we're not strangers. Plus, I know your wife, and I gotta say, you're a lucky man. Janey is one of the sweetest people I've ever met. You must be pretty great to have snagged her." I don't know a ton about her, other than she's the head of HR for the company these guys own, and that her presence is the equivalent of a warm blanket on a cold day.
His ears redden, then his cheeks. He splutters and pushes his glasses up his nose. "I'm just me," he mumbles. His eyes shift, warmth and love filling them. "My Janey is great. She makes me want to be better for her."
I press my hand to my chest and sigh. "Oh lordy, my heart. Give me a moment while I process my jealousy." I make a show of taking a few deep breaths, then grin down at him. "Okay, I'm good."
He laughs, and graces me with a smile that makes me jealous all over again. Well, maybe it's not jealousy. It's more envy. Because I think Janey deserves every bit of good she has. But man, what I wouldn't give for a man to call me 'My Cady' the way Jonas says 'My Janey'. The absolute love and awe when he speaks about her makes my heart twist in my chest.
"I think I'm gonna puke. Too much spinning." The big scarred guy is looking a little green.
I slide in front of the big guy, blocking his view of the spinning woman on the pole. "How about we get you all out to the cars? I think you've had enough fun for tonight."
He grunts, but nods, and the rest of the men gather their things. I'm surprised to see Maverick help the big guy up, supporting his weight easily. He looks strong, but obviously he's even stronger than I thought. He catches my eye and grins. "Thanks for your help tonight, Cadence. We'll get out of your hair."
As they slowly make their way out, the guy who arrived last approaches me, his voice low. "Can I get the bill, please?" He passes me a credit card made of real metal. I don't think I've ever held one of these. Ransom Kyle . Cool name.
"Of course." I hurry to the register, run his card, and bring it back. When I return, he's the only one left at the table.
He signs the receipt, then hands it back to me with a smile. I glance down at the bill and my eyes widen. He's left a $1,000 tip. "Woah, dude, this is too much. I can't accept this."
He shakes his head, standing up. "You earned every penny. We took up the VIP spot for hours, and you took great care of us."
"But still, a thousand dollars? That's crazy."
Ransom shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Not to me. Honestly, I don't even think about money anymore. It's just...there."
I tilt my head, studying him. "Must be nice. I can't even imagine what that's like."
"It's a blessing, for sure. But it doesn't solve everything." He looks around the club, then back at me. "Money can't buy happiness, Cadence. It can make life easier, but it can't fill the holes inside you. I'm guessing you know that, since you spend most of your time trying to save the world."
I nod slowly, considering his words. "I guess I always thought if I had enough money, all my problems would disappear."
Ransom chuckles. "If only it were that simple. Trust me, even rich people have problems. They're just different problems."
"Like what?"
He shrugs again. "Like figuring out what really matters in life. When you can have anything you want, things start to lose their shine pretty quickly. So you end up having to learn what drives you."
I bite my lip, turning his words over in my mind. "I never thought about it that way."
"Most people don't. But I've learned that money is just a tool. It's what you do with it that counts." He glances at the doors, then back at me. "Anyway, I need to get going. I’m pretty sure John’s going to be a handful in the car. Thanks again for everything tonight."
"You're welcome. And thank you for the tip. It means a lot."
He nods, then turns and walks out of the club, leaving me standing there a thousand dollars richer.
The sound of the door clicking shut behind me is quickly drowned out by the excited barking of the dogs. They heard me, as they always do, no matter how quiet I try to be. I hurry to the back, my running shoes making squeaking noises on the linoleum.
"Shh, shh, it's okay. I'm here," I whisper, reaching through the bars of the kennels to pet and scratch each one. They wiggle and whine, tails wagging furiously as if I'm the best thing they've seen all day. I get this greeting every time I come back here, and it never gets old.
"How was work, bunny?"
I scream, automatically clenching my butt cheeks. Nan, standing innocently in the doorway screams, crosses her legs and grips the doorway.
"Oh, Nan, you scared me!" I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart race.
"No shit sherlock. Fuck. I gotta change my underwear. Why the hell did you scream?" she yells.
"You were supposed to be asleep!" I yell back.
"The dogs woke me up. Christ on a cracker." She sighs and carefully uncrosses her legs. "Well, at least I won't have to get up to pee later. So how was work?"
Maybe other people would find it weird that we're going to stand here after she's peed her pants and chat, but honestly, it's barely a blip in our way too intimate relationship. Once you nurse a person through chemo, a little thing like peeing your pants is nothing. "It was...interesting. Remember those guys I told you about? The ones who donated all that money to the rescue?"
"The rich fellas, yeah?"
"That's them. Well, they came into the club tonight, stayed for hours, drank a ton, and left me a thousand-dollar tip."
She lets out a low whistle. "A thousand dollars? For serving some drinks and bar food?"
I nod, still in disbelief myself. "Crazy, right? I tried to give it back, but the guy insisted."
Nan shakes her head. "Young lady, if someone offers to give you that much money, you take it. As long as there aren't any strings attached, I mean. If someone asks you to get naked for it, you run." She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "A thousand dollars. Lordy, men and their money. They'll spend it on the stupidest things. Reminds me of your grandpa and all those stupid fishing lures he had."
I grin, remembering the tackle box that always seemed to be overflowing. "He did love his lures."
"Love? That man was obsessed! Every time we went into town, he'd come out of the bait shop with a handful of new ones. Shiny things, feathery things, things that made noise. Said they were gonna help him catch the big one." Nan chuckles, her eyes distant with memory.
"Did they ever work?" I ask, curious. "I don't remember eating much fish."
"Hell if I know. I think he just liked collecting them. He'd spend hours out there on the lake, just casting and reeling, casting and reeling. Drove me nuts sometimes. He'd spread the damn things on the coffee table and work on them, but it made him happy."
I smile, imagining Grandpa out on the water, content in his little fishing world. "I miss him," I say softly.
Nan’s expression softens, and she reaches out to pat my cheek. "Me too, Bunny. Me too."
We stand there for a moment, lost in our memories until a particularly loud bark breaks the spell.
"Alright, alright, I hear you," I say to the dogs, turning back to the kennels. "Go to bed you stinkers. It's the middle of the damn night. You too Nan. Back to bed. Go change your panties."
She flips me the bird with a cackle then turns and shuffles out of the kennels.
I don't bother stifling my yawns as I make my rounds, checking water bowls and doling out a few nighttime treats. The club job is great, but damn, the hours are tough. I'm more of a rise with the sun kind of girl. These 2:00 AM's are kicking my butt.
I finish up with the dogs, turn the lights off, and head to my little office at the back of the rescue. The little lamp on my desk gives the room a warm glow. Nan is already asleep on the cot, head snuggled into her favorite red satin pillowcase.
I rub my chest, staring at her short gray hair, wishing she were back in her own bedroom, in her queen-size bed, surrounded by everything she loves. It's foolish to wish. The house and pretty much everything that was in it are gone.
But it could be worse. So much worse.
I could have lost her.
I'll take a camping mat and sleeping bag on the floor for the rest of my life if it means she's still with me. It's just stuff. I'll replace it all someday. But for right now, she's all that matters. We're warm, we're safe, and that's a lot more than some other people have.
But it's not forever. Because things will turn around. They always do. I believe that with everything in me, even if right now it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Maybe that's why I love mornings so much. Everything feels so much brighter, and I feel so much stronger, in the morning.
Yeah, good things are coming for us. I know it.