Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
TALLY
T he next couple of days pass with little to report. At the same time, me doing nothing out of the ordinary is what needs to happen. It will help me become someone Walsh, and Walsh’s bosses, can trust. I need to blend in with everyone else working paycheck to paycheck.
Walsh and Johnny are often at the pub together. I haven’t done a complete shift yet when both of them aren’t there. And while there’s nothing obvious happening, there are too many surly looking Alphas visiting them for it to be considered normal.
“Tally,” Walsh calls from the customer side of the bar, which is where he usually sits when he’s working. And I say working lightly.
Waving, so he knows I heard, I finish serving two women and drop their food order into the kitchen before making my way over to him.
His eyes are on the women.
I twist around to check if it's them he’s staring at.
My job here is to serve customers, not judge them. And while I know not to judge a book by its cover, I also wouldn’t leave anything of value lying around. I make sure the cash drawer is properly shut, and I put the card machine out of reach.
“Is there an issue?” I grab a tea towel and start polishing glasses.
“Kick ’em out. Cancel their order and tell ’em to fuck off.”
I finish with the glass I’m doing, waiting for more of an explanation, but I don’t get one. All he gives me is a growing press of impatience which makes his eyes slit and adds an extra layer to his scent.
“Sure thing, boss.” I smile, flicking the tea towel over my shoulder. I stop at the kitchen first to pull their docket, and then I grab a tenner from the till before walking over to them.
They stop talking as I approach.
Sliding the money over the table, I say, “Sorry, ladies, management would like you to go.”
“Can’t kick us out,” the one closest to me says. The taunt in her expression becomes more evident the longer she stares at me in challenge.
Not breaking eye contact with her, I point over my shoulder to the sign hanging on the back wall, in a place no one can miss.
“Sign says different. Boss wants you to go.”
The woman on the other side of the table makes a move for the money, but instead of taking it, she flicks it off the table and it flutters to the floor.
I don’t go to pick it up, because she makes a show of lifting her T-shirt high enough for me to see the switchblade peeking out the pocket of her jeans.
“We’ll be staying.” She grins, and there’s nothing friendly about her smile.
I look all around me, feeling the eyes of everyone turning to watch.
“Nah, you won’t be. Management asked you to leave, and now I’m doin’ the same. Threatening me like you just did sealed your fate. Before, I would have stood here while you finish. Now, though, I’ll make it easy for you.” I reach over and grab both their glasses, taking them back to the bar.
I think I shock them because they’re slow in reacting, giving me time to come back to them empty-handed.
“Off we go, ladies, your time here is done.”
“We paid for them!” the one closest to me protests.
“And I gave you your money back. Which I didn’t have to do.”
Her friend comes closer, her hand hovering on her hip as they both stare me down.
The tension between us creeps higher the longer they don’t move or say anything.
People are unpredictable at the best of times, but I can see the next play happening before it does.
And since we’re in a crowded bar, and I have an aversion to knives, I take charge.
Before she can pull the knife on me, I shove her friend out of the way and position myself behind her.
Purposely making my movements more reflective of a civilian than the trained professional I am, I disarm her by dropping her flick knife to the floor before tipping her forward and frog marching her through the bar.
Of course it’s become a spectacle, and nearly every patron is standing on their feet, catcalling and making more noise than revelers on New Year’s.
We get to the door, and I don’t stop walking until we’re out on the footpath.
Talking loudly and clearly, I make sure there’s no way she can misinterpret anything I say.
“I asked you nicely to leave. I was just doing my job, so don’t dare turn this into a me situation when you’re the one who was armed.
Now, have a nice evening, ladies, and let’s not do this again. ”
Neither of them lashes out at me as I go to walk off. I mean, I keep watching them and don’t give them my back just in case. A quick check over my shoulder confirms Johnny is holding the door open for me, so maybe that’s the reason.
“You got a good look at them, right?” he asks as I duck under his arm.
“Cause I made new friends, and they’re going to want to catch up later?”
“Aye.”
“What’s the story with them?”
“Dirty sluts who roofie, then roll their marks. They know not to come here.”
“They work alone?”
“Does anyone work alone?”
“Not sure. You’re the one telling the story,” I offer, making my way back to where they were sitting.
Someone’s already taken the tenner and the knife they left.
Reaching over the bar, I grab the cleaning spray and a rag to wipe the table before going back to serving the customers waiting for a drink.
The general lack of concern from those waiting suggests what happened today isn’t the first time they’ve seen people pulling weapons or being walked out.
Once everyone has fresh pints, and I’ve delivered plates of hot chips, Walsh flicks his head, calling me over again. “Handled yourself alright.”
I smile instead of remarking at his lack of heroics. Though I suspect today was a test for me too.
“I’ve taken the tenner off your wages since you were being so generous.”
“Of course.”
As if that wasn’t coming. But if I’m told to do dirty work, it’s on my terms, plus I was hoping they’d take their money and leave. It’s the pacifist in me.
“Maybe got something for you, if you’re interested.”
Wow, color me surprised—it was a test. Which, of course, I passed. I’ll pass each and every one set, too, because I need an in to where the real action happens.
I lean against the side wall so I can watch the bar but also so I can listen to Walsh.
“A friend needs a couple of bar staff for a private function.”
“Does this impact my shifts here, because I need money.” I overemphasis needing money, and he falls for it hook, line, and sinker.
His smile shifts from boss to something else. Like we share something outside of here now. “Well, lucky for you, I do the roster here, and I’m sure I can make it so you’re not working. The other job is cash in hand, and they like to reward staff that do good by them with hefty bonuses.”
I’m nodding my head before he finishes speaking.
“Let’s see how you do this week. All going well, next Wednesday night at eight, you’ll be busy, if you get me.”
I’d much rather know the details now and make my own way, but that’s not going to happen. Not until I have his trust, anyway.
I lean close, conspiratorially. “Do I have to take precautions beforehand?”
He shakes his head, already guessing what I mean. “If you’re talking blockers or that scent shit, don’t do it. You’ll get paid extra for your effort and all.”
“Interesting. What would I have to wear?” There’s no way I’m getting my tits out for any job. Evidence, be damned.
He looks me up and down, like he’s the king of It. Flicking his eyebrows up suggestively, he asks, “You trust me to get something together for you?”
I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove. “As long as I’m not exposing myself, go for it.”
He pretends to look offended. “What kind of establishment do you think I’m talking about?”
“One that pays cash, apparently.” I smile, acting coy and a little dopey in case he’s rethinking himself.
“So, I take it lots of Alphas will be there? I’m not packed, and because I’m not, I don’t want to be put in a shitty situation.
I mean, I trust you wouldn’t do that to me, but at the same time, you know what Alphas are like sometimes. ”
“Look, how about if it all works out, and you do the job, I’ll keep an eye out for you. It’s not a given you got the work, though. Let me think it out.”
“Yeah, no worries. I completely understand. But I really appreciate you even considering me, Walsh. And that thing about watching over me, perhaps I could split some of what I earn with you—if I do the job, of course. Seems only fair.”
Sometimes I truly astound myself. I manage to schmooze him without pulling a face because of the rising bile in my throat. I know his type. Opportunistic predator. Luckily, I'm somewhat of an opportunistic person too.
Our conversation gets stalled by a group entering the pub.
Which is good. I don’t want to appear too eager, just enough.
By the time I’ve finished pulling their pints, putting their food order in with the kitchen, and I’ve done a walk through the main room to clean tables and collect glasses, Walsh has left.
The lunchtime rush abruptly comes to an end, and Johnny, as stand-in manager, finishes me up early with a promise to find a couple of extra hours for me.
I manage to drop into our chat another complaint about not having enough money, only adding to my story, since he knows I got stitched on my accommodation.
He just doesn’t know my accommodation is lush with the capital L. And the discreet entrance helps keep my secret just that, a secret.
Leaving work early is a bonus, and it gives me a chance to find out if there’s a gym close by.
Working at a bar is not going to be great for my workout regime, especially when everyone seems to stand around and eat the extras from the kitchen.
Though fried food isn’t my favorite, I’m trying to wiggle my way into the team using any means possible. Even eating bad food.