Chapter 1
EVE
“Bridezillas over there.” I informed Donette of the bachelorette party in the corner. Ever since she was left at the altar, my bestie couldn’t handle the brides to be who stormed the honky-tonk highway.
Donette let her rage show for a second with a primal grunt right in my ear. “Better than the bikers around the stage,” she retorted.
In the middle of Bootsies, not to be confused with the famous Tootsies, we hugged up like a couple. It was the only way for us to hear one another over the live bands. A cover of Hank Williams Jr.’s “Family Tradition” thundered, and the crowd sang along with their parts. It gave us a short break from slinging beer and Tennessee whisky.
“Trade me, okay?” Donette gave up the bikers for the brides. “You can handle bikers.”
I ignored her comment about me. “Are you sure?”“Yes,” she breathed in my ear. “I’m so over Dylan.”
Silent, I nodded. It was her loss. Those girls were about to blow chunks. In their pink matching cowboy hats, they were drunk before they stepped off the pedal tavern they took here. Bikers on the other hand tipped well. Donette and I separated, crossed paths, and I headed to the stage. She hadn’t been kidding. A huge pack of motorcycle men surrounded our fourth act. With their leather and chains, they stood out in the crowd of hillbilly hipsters.
An ice-cold hand landed on my shoulder. Whipping my head around, I glared at our head bartender, Ford. He bent down. Ford’s lips grazed my ear. “Eve, don’t bother. Let them come to the bar.”
“What? Are they good tippers? You want my tips, Ford?” I practically shouted.
“Those guys are the Royal Bastards. Real assholes. I wish Grady would kick them out.”
Rolling my eyes, I shrugged Ford’s hand off me. My boss had never kicked out bikers before.
“I’m warning you, Eve. Don’t get too close,” Ford snapped as I walked away.
Get too close? That was practically my job. Nightly, I had to weave through the crowd of partygoers to take folks their drink orders. I’d been rubbing booties with people all night. Hell, I popped up between a couple kissing earlier. They were happy to get their shots of Jack Daniels, and I was happy to shove their dollars in my pockets. Besides, Ford and his bartenders freaked if we barmaids didn’t keep everyone from crowding his bar where they also served the only dish we made, Nashville Hot Chicken.
Preparing myself, I tied my grey Jack Daniels t-shirt up a bit higher and yanked the cuffs of my daisy dukes down a hair, so they didn’t crawl up my ass again. I dove in. Swimming through the bikers, their beards tickled me as they bent to tell me their orders. Soon I was in front of my boss, Grady asking him to basically empty out a bottle of George Dickel.
“Why don’t you just take the bottle and some glasses?”
“Great idea.”
Balancing a slew of shot glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, I waded into the crowd again. In a sea of roughnecks, I poured more than a dozen double shots of whiskey and filled my apron with cash. Sure, my ass got pinched by a few bikers, the men and one woman, but I turned to leave feeling pretty pleased. That was before I bumped face first into a stray biker. He grabbed a hold of my shoulders to steady me.
Towering over me, he opened his mouth to talk, but a wild woman materialized at his side. His lips shut tight. A biker bitch in head-to-toe leather, huge hoop earrings with spiky fuchsia hair snarled at me. Everything she had was out on the showroom floor as her tits were about ready to pop out and slap me. She raised her glass fixing to drown me in her drink.
Flinching, I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to be doused in whiskey.
“Steph,” the biker barked at her over the music. His grip on me disappeared.
As soon as his hands left my shoulders, I crumbled to the floor to dodge the splash. Luckily, Steph tossed her drink at him, not me. But Lordalmighty, her glass crashed onto the wooden floor, shattering beside me. Scared the dickens out of me. I screeched, not that anyone could hear me. Steph lunged at me. Other biker bitches had rushed over to hold her back just in time. Regardless, she snipped at him like an angry dog. I watched their mouths argue from my seat on the floor but couldn’t make out a word over a country cover of some Bee Gees’ song complete with falsetto. Apparently, the seventies were all the rage now. I blamed the popularity of beards.
Speaking of beards, to my surprise, the biker’s focus turned to me as he offered his hand. Just to avoid the broken glass, I took it and let him haul me to my feet. At the sight of his dripping face, I automatically handed him the towel hanging off my apron. After all, that was my job. When he didn’t take it, I dabbed his wet cheek and chest myself. Standing, I could hear the bitch now.
Her voice came like ice. “Tell me. This your whore now?”
“What’s it to you?” he yelled, seized my waist and drew me to him.
I held my hands out to stop the man from carting me into a full embrace. Stepping away from his control, I squawked as loud as I could, “Excuse me, but I’m not a whore. And I don’t dare date nasty bikers like you.” I gave him a once over while I said it and noticed he was drop dead gorgeous. Still, I jutted my chin out with attitude.
And you could hear a pin drop.
It just so happened my exclamation corresponded with the very second the music stopped. It was as if the whole crowd stirred to stare at me. In the spotlight, my face reddened. My chest felt tight. The biker’s mouth hung open. Steph laughed like a loon. Just as quick, the music resumed as a fiddle wailed. Overly embarrassed, I jetted back to the bar.
Ford was waiting for me. He leaned over. “You alright?”
Picking glass out of my hair, I bobbed my head. Now that everyone wasn’t staring at me, I felt okay. Realizing he’d witnessed that awful scene but didn’t come to my rescue, I plastered on a fake smile. “Just peachy,” I said in a normal tone, not caring if he heard me.
The other bartenders, Jasper, Greta and Viv joined Ford to stare at me. Then Celie came over and tackled me, hugged me to her. Twice my age, my supervisor had been working here for ages. She trained all us girls and guys to grow thick skin but wasn’t above lifting our chins when things got rough. I relaxed against her for a moment, taking the comfort she offered. Sucking in a breath, I smelled nothing but her heavy perfume. Oddly enough, she reminded me of my late mother, petite and thin, like me. However, where Celie was dark, I was pale with blonde hair. She had big blue eyes that stood out against her black hair, and I had brown eyes that blended in with my artificial lowlights. When she first met me, she said I was whiter than a frog’s belly. In the wintertime I was but right now I had a bit of a tan.
After Celie came Grady, her ex and our big boss, under the rarely seen owners. Sexier than socks on a rooster, he just stood there, arms crossed, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, for real,” I mouthed as I took off to find Donette to tell her what had happened.
For the rest of the evening, I avoided the bikers like the plague. The biker bitch had high tailed it out of here after my boss approached her. The guy, however, stuck around, but I refused to even look his way. I avoided him by stealing away to the breakroom as often as I could. Donette found me. We talked about tomorrow night which was Halloween when we’d be required to dress up. My bestie would be coming as Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice. I figured it was because she already looked like that actress, everyone said so. She claimed some guy always came as Beetlejuice but always came alone.
“There’s a guy who always comes as Beetlejuice?”
“Not the same guy. Somebody different every year dresses as Beetlejuice. You can bet your bottom dollar, but you never see Lydia.”
“Oh, gotcha.” Donette was hoping tomorrow’s Beetlejuice was hot underneath the makeup. I pictured Beetlejuice in my head and grimaced. “You’re in search of someone who’d dress as Beetlejuice?”
“That’s my type. I want a gothy geek like me. An Omega male.”
“What’s that?”
“Basically, the opposite of an Alpha male. I’ve had plenty of those. Men like my ex, Dylan.” At the mention of her ex-fiancé, we had our usual moment of silence as she took a deep breath. When she recovered, she explained, “I’m looking for an Omega male to settle down with, become an Alpha mom.” Donette was only two years older than me but was dying to get married and start a family. Since her ex-fiancé left her, I figured she’d been through every type of guy. But I wasn’t one to judge.
“I’ve not even thought about it,” I said, speaking of my costume though she hadn’t asked. Also, I hadn’t thought about what type of guy I liked. Donette and I didn’t have to be polite to one another and ask questions. We just told each other what we wanted to and that was that. Simple. That was why Donette was my best friend in Nashville. We were easy. I liked easy. More than that, I was horrible at being polite and making conversations happen.
Eventually business wound down, and Grady handed me my Gibson acoustic guitar like always. “It’s closing time, Eve.”
As always, my eager smile thanked him. I was mighty grateful for the opportunity and that it was indeed closing time. Our last gig had just packed up. The five of them counted their tips at the bar. The lead singer, Ray tipped his Stetson and winked as I walked by. His eyes followed me as I stepped up onto the stage, but frowning, he shook his head. Yeah, he knew about me.
Grady set out the big glass tip jar, now empty, for me as I stood in front of our vintage style microphone. Looking out over the Thursday night stragglers, I reminded myself it was Friday morning. That the dozen or so folks left were all too drunk to notice me. As usual, I glanced around out over the long room, searching for someone to sing to. Portraits of so many stars who started their careers here on Lower Broad hung above the bar. Willie, black and white, in his Grand Ole Opry days tempted me, but my eyes locked with the flat painted ones of our mechanical bull. Taco had been out of order for months. This one was for him. I hoped he liked Lyle Lovett. But moreover, I knew Grady would get a kick out of it. After all, he was the one who hired the bands.
As I sang “Closing Time”, I changed up the lyrics. “Grady’s been mixing drinks all evening… I know that man ain’t right…. Celie’s always giggling…”
Celie’s laugh sounded, making my eyes travel to her as she flipped on the overhead lights. The neon glow disappeared to reveal a dirty bar. Squinting, I glanced around with a bit more confidence. As I strummed and got into a rhythm, I noticed folks doing just what I was singing. Ford arranged chairs and Donette loaded empty beer bottles onto the bar. The last band was still counting their money and Grady was sending folk’s home. As more people left, I sang even better. My whole body relaxed as my bundle of nerves unwound. A real smile overtook my features as I belted out the last part of the song. I spied the biker from earlier exiting the building, Grady holding the door for him. My smile widened. When I sang the last notes, the place had cleared.
The singer in his Stetson stood and clapped first. He was joined by the rest of his band and our crew that was left. Blushing, I bowed a little before leaving the stage. I had a floor to mop.
“Where’s Donette,” I asked Grady when I was fixing to leave. We always walked to the parking garage together.
“She said to tell you, Goodnight, Irene.”
I crossed my arms. “Again?” That was our code to let each other know we were leaving with a guy. I’d never gotten to use it. Meanwhile, Donette had done worn it out.
“Don’t worry. Ford can walk you.”
I didn’t let my discomfort show on my face. “What about Celie?”
“She’s already gone. Greta and Viv, too.”
“The other girls?” I asked but knew only a few of the newbies, Donette and I had been closing. It was horrible, but I barely knew the new girls’ names. Turnover was that high.
“Sent Shandra and Tinessa home before close. If you can wait for me, I’ll walk you myself.” Grady smirked and got a funny look in his eye. “Maybe we can get some coffee.”
My nerves prickled, winding back up again. Grady had his eye on me, I knew, but he was more than twice my age, even older than his ex-wife Celie. Sure, he was a silver fox, but I didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count all the reasons I shouldn’t have coffee with him. For one thing, he had a set of twins in high school. “Oh, I’ve got to be on my way home. I’m worn out.” I yawned and stretched for good measure. “I’ll find Ford.”
“Titan up!” a man hollered from the second floor of the honky-tonk next door as Ford and I stepped out of Bootsies. I rolled my eyes as Ford echoed him. He was wearing his Tennessee Titan’s jersey. Ford might pass for a kicker, but he was no football player. Just a rabid fan. There was likely some big win tonight that I knew nothing about. I’d never been big on sports.
“It’s good you’re having me walk you with those bikers out and about,” Ford said right off.
“I’m more worried about the homeless trying to rob me,” I muttered. There was a wad of cash in mainly ones shoved into my purse. Most of the time the vagrants on these streets were harmless, but at three a.m. with such easy pickings, a girl had to be careful.
“Weren’t you the one?” Ford started to ask a question I got all too often.
“Yes, I’m the one. I kicked old man Henry in the groin. I thought he was going to attack me.” Henry had been shining shoes on Broadway here in Nashville for nearly forty years. It happened when I was new. How was I to know the old man approaching me so quickly this early in the morning wasn’t trying anything? Come to find out, Henry was only trying to give me something I dropped when I passed him. I don’t even remember what but hauling off and kicking that sweet old man in his nutsack, I’d never live it down.
Ford laughed for a good while as we passed the other honky-tonks. They were all bigger than Bootsies with their multiple floors and rooftop bars. But at night, they were all the same. Dark inside and silent. You could hear a pin drop if Ford quit laughing. His chuckles echoed on the noiseless street. A chill ran over me, and I rubbed my arms to settle it. I glanced up to see the Batman building hovering over Broadway, lit up as always. That gave me some comfort. Usually, Donette and I would be rehashing the evening. Ford was full of questions since we didn’t know each other well.
“You’re from Alabama?”
“Arkansas,” I answered and paused for a good while before I realized I should ask him where he was from. “You?”
“Volunteer, born and raised. You’re here to play music. Hit it big, right?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t know Ford well enough to tell him I wasn’t all I thought I’d be here in Nashville. That I could sing like an angel in the choir back home, actually in the choir of the Flipping First Baptist Church but froze on stage under the bright neon lights. “I make way more money serving nights than I would playing a morning gig.” I shrugged. It was a truer fact than any. And a morning gig would be all I could hope for if I could manage it. As it was, I’d given up even finding a band to play with until I got over my crippling nerves.
“Don’t let the musicians fool you. They get base pay along with those tips.”
“I know, but it ain’t much.” Some got as little as twenty-five dollars a day.
“Grady has to know you want to sing since he has you get up at closing time…”
Ford was on his way to finding out my secret. That I was too chicken shit to sing in front of a real crowd. Yeah, Grady knew all too well I couldn’t sing in front of a big audience. We’d found that out my first week at Bootsies. That was why he let me sing at night when everyone had gone home. I needed to change the subject but blurted out, “I don’t want to take advantage of Grady.”
Ford caught onto that. “I thought Grady had a thing for you. Are you two…?”
“No way.”
Ford fell silent. “You heard about tomorrow night?”
“The costume party?”
“Yeah, that but there’s more. Some big surprise.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t know. Celie mentioned Grady had something big planned.”
“Well.” That in itself was surprising. Grady was nothing but consistent, and he’s never had a surprise before.
“I’m thinking maybe it’s an after party. Just for the employees, ya know?”
“That’d be nice since we won’t really get to party tomorrow night on Halloween.” Last year’s Halloween was a letdown. I for one had been so eager to dress up but nothing exciting happened. Halloween had just been busier than a normal night which just meant I worked harder in clothes not meant for working.
“And since you and Grady aren’t a thing, maybe you’ll party with me?” Ford didn’t miss a beat.
Ford was cute as a button but not at all my type. I thought to earlier when I told Donette I didn’t know my type. It sure wasn’t Ford. I’d go out with Grady before I would a pretty boy like Ford. Party with him? Had that even been a question? I didn’t know, so I didn’t answer. We’d just made it to the entrance to the parking garage anyway. While I tried to remember what level I parked on, I heard a motorcycle roar in the distance. “About those bikers?” I started as my thoughts shifted back to Ford not even attempting to help me out of that stressful situation earlier. I didn’t quite know how to approach the topic, but I was seriously put off.
“The Royal Bastards MC? Got our boss Grady to thank for them hanging around. He’s been buddying up to them. Before we know it, he’ll be one of them.”
“Really? Grady, a biker?”
“We’ll be a biker bar before you know it. I’ll quit if it comes to that.”
I sputtered a laugh. Grady didn’t own Bootsies, so I doubted that would ever happen. “You really don’t like these guys?” In my experience bikers were generally harmless no matter how tough they put on. And I knew for a fact most people assumed all bikers were bad people.
“I got a sister who runs with them. She keeps a black eye. Nuff said. Seriously though, a girl like you, pretty girl like you.” Ford paused and cleared his throat. “Could get abducted out here alone on the streets at night.”
“That’s why Donette and I walk together.” Just as I said it, Ford hit the ground. Someone had hit him in the back of the head. A man in a ski mask emerged from the dark holding a black sack like he was trick-or-treating. Lordalmighty. It dawned on me that I was the treat. He planned to put a hood over my head and abduct me. Just like with old man Henry, I lifted my knee and kicked hard. Hitting him square in the balls with the pointed toe of my cowboy boot, I watched the man fall forward. Taking off like a deer, I darted through the garage, up the levels to my Gran’s vintage orange 84’ El Camino, climbed inside and locked the door before I tried to start her up. As usual it took a couple attempts. When she purred to life, like a bat out of hell, I sped through the parking garage to the exit. Luckily, the bar was up, and I didn’t have to pay to leave. I was on the highway before I thought of poor Ford. I called Grady. He didn’t answer.
As I drove, I texted him real quick. “I need you now.” I called again and got an answer. I relayed what had happened and where to find Ford.
Grady said he was on it. “You want to come back and file a police report?”
“No.” All I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed.