The twinge of sadness in my soul reverberated with the lyrics. It was a sad kind of song, and my chest swelled with longing. I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself live there for just a little while.
I stopped back by Baz’s table, and Ash and Lyrik ordered another round of drinks, the two of them getting rowdy and unruly. Baz and Zee looked on them with a soft affection that seemed almost out of character for their harsh outward appearance, and again I didn’t know how to make sense of Baz. There were so many facets to his personality.
Did I even know him at all?
He cast me a slow smile when I walked by, one that wrapped me up in comfort.
When Carolina George finished up, Derrick took over, playing some dance music to keep in step with the carefree atmosphere. Ash and Lyrik took to the dance floor, their moves a little on the goofy side, as if they didn’t have a care in the world—completely uninhibited, cutting loose. As I was passing him by, Ash grabbed me and spun me around. I squealed in surprise, enjoying myself far too much when I danced around with him for a few beats, before he released me and turned to take the hand of another girl who’d slid up to grab his attention.
Laughing and trying to catch my breath, I peeked over at Baz who was relaxed back in the high-backed stool, taking me in like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he was supposed to be looking at me because he couldn’t see anything else. Just like my eyes were continually drawn to his gaze.
A shiver of pleasure rolled through me.
It felt amazing to have someone looking at me that way, because it’d been a long, long time since anyone had. And even when they did, it’d never been real.
Now?
I craved it.
Craved it, but only if it was him.
I tore my attention away and focused on the rest of my tables. When I made my way back from the kitchen with an order of appetizers for some women sitting in one of my booths, Baz’s table had been vacated. Glasses drained. Stools empty. A short stack of large bills sat like a consolation prize in place of the face I wanted to see.
Disappointment slammed me like a full body blow.
Damn it, Shea. You can’t afford to do this.
Couldn’t allow myself this type of foolishness.
I knew better.
I forced myself to get back to work, convincing myself it was for the best. Slowly the bar cleared out, and at three a.m. Charlie clicked off the blinking “Open” sign in the front window while the rest of us quickly cleaned up.
Charlie tugged at a lock of my hair while I wiped down my last table. “I’m just about ready, Shea Bear. Let me drop tomorrow’s deposit in the safe and we can get out of here.”
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you out back as I’m going to walk Tamar out. She’s antsy to get out of here.” Tamar, Charlie, and I were always the last to leave, and Charlie gave me a ride home every night, dropped me safely at my front door, something he’d insisted on doing since I began working here.
“All right, sweetheart.”
I grabbed my bag from behind the counter and stuffed the huge wad of money inside. One of the perks of working at this place? The tips always paid my bills. No. It didn’t come close to touching the wealth I’d been promised, the goals and aspirations my parents had grilled into my brain from when I was just a little girl.
But I didn’t care.
Never would I forget the day I’d been back visiting, in the kitchen baking with my grandma, the woman I’d loved more than anyone else in the world. I could still smell the cinnamon rolls in the oven, the overwhelming comfort I’d felt standing beside her at the counter like it was exactly where I was supposed to be. From the side, she’d smiled at me, softly, almost like she felt sorry for me, and she’d voiced what most would believe to be one the worst clichés that had ever existed.
Money doesn’t bring happiness, sweet girl. You remember that, now.
It remained one of the most impactful statements anyone had ever said to me.
Because it’d been the truest.
The most important.
“You ready?” I asked Tamar who slung her purse over her shoulder.
“Absolutely. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Thought you said you loved it here?” I teased.
“Ha. After eight hours? Not so much. My feet are killing me.”
“That’s what you get for wearing five-inch heels.”
Dark blue eyes gleamed back at me as we made our way down the long hall toward the back door. “I wouldn’t be able to see over the top of the bar if I didn’t wear them.”
She pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped into the night, the small parking lot empty except for Tamar’s car and Charlie’s truck. Her super-high boots crunched against the loose gravel as we walked toward her car. She gave me a quick hug. “Night, Shea. See you Tuesday.”