Grace for Drowning(6)

"Drunk grabby guys aside, I guess not," I replied.

She smiled sympathetically. "Hey, we've all been there. Security is pretty quick at making sure that stuff doesn't happen. I'll tell you though, get people drunk enough, and they all turn into animals. You wouldn't believe the stuff you see if you spend enough time in this gig." She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Two weeks ago, there was a couple sitting at that table in the corner. At first they seemed to be minding their own business, but eventually I noticed them acting kind of odd. The guy started jiggling around like he was having some kind of prolonged mini-seizure, while the woman sat perfectly still next to him with her hands below the table just staring ahead at the wall."

The implication was not lost on me. My eyes widened. "No way. In the middle of the bar?"

She nodded. "And this was a Friday night so we're talking full house."

"Jesus."

She grinned. "Wait, it gets better. So, once I worked out what was happening, I decided to wander over there and spoil the mood a little. I'm all for free love and what not, but we have to clean up enough grossness without adding some random guy's spunk to the equation. Anyway, I rocked up at the table and began making conversation, just asking them all sorts of questions, and generally making it abundantly clear that I knew what was up. The woman looked mortified and just got up and left, but you know what the guy said? 'Bitch, I was almost done.'"

We both burst out laughing.

"Jesus Christ," I said.

"I know, right? You can't make this stuff up. Anyway, the moral of the story is, you certainly won't be bored here, but you need to be prepared for anything."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The last of the patrons gave us a nod then disappeared through the door, leaving Joy and I alone. She moved out onto the floor and began to wipe down tables.

"Speaking of being prepared for anything," she said, glancing over at me with a twinkle in her eyes, "Logan certainly seemed to be taking an interest in you. Perhaps you do have something to worry about."

I felt a tingle of discomfort. "Wasn't that just him doing his job?"

She laughed. "Kicking the guy out, sure, but hanging around to chat afterwards? That's not his style at all. A man of few words, that one. Not that he really needs them. Women practically throw themselves at him. He could be mute and I bet he'd still get laid whenever he wanted."

"Bit of a manwhore is he?"

"Used to be, but he seems to have shut up shop recently. He had a string of girlfriends back when I was just starting here, including one or two of the other bar girls, but they all ended messily. I haven't seen him with anyone in the last year."

"So you two have never...?"

She laughed like I'd said something ridiculous. "No. I've thought about it — to be honest I'd be suspicious of any girl that hadn't — but he's a bit too brooding for my tastes. Besides, I have a rule about getting involved with co-workers." She grinned suggestively. "But that's not to say you can't take a shot. Maybe he's ready to end his sabbatical."

"There will be no shots here," I replied, a little too quickly. "Getting involved with anyone is the last thing on my mind right now."

Joy studied me with curiosity in her eyes for a few moments, but her expression quickly brightened once more. "Well, good. I'd hate to get to know you, only to have you quit a month later because some jackass ruined you."

Too late for that. I nearly said it out loud, but she seemed to get the message anyway. We cleaned in silence for the next few minutes.





Chapter Two





Grace





Over the coming days, I met the rest of the Charlie's team. Unsurprisingly, Logan wasn't the only guy on security. There were six men in total on the payroll. Louis was my favorite; a gigantic, dark-skinned Samoan man whose laugh was as big as his belly. Despite the extra meat on his bones, he somehow didn't come across as fat, just solid, like you could hit him with a car and just wind up with a dented fender. Unlike the others, he would talk your ear off if you gave him an opportunity.

Then there was Rafi in the kitchen, who was polite but a little cold. I got the sense he didn't like me. Perhaps he felt threatened having another chef on staff. Charlie had made it perfectly clear that he was hiring me for the bar not the kitchen, but the occasional narrow-eyed glance from Rafi said that maybe he didn't believe that.

The rest of the bar staff were all friendly, in that gregarious, insubstantial way that bartenders tend to be. They were pleasant company, but nothing more than that, as though everything that happened now was transient and thus not really worth the effort. To be honest, I felt a little like that myself. This was a stopover for me, the first port in rebuilding my life. But there was one exception. Joy. That bubbliness I'd felt the first day we met wasn't an act. That was her, twenty-four-seven. At first, I thought it would be annoying, but there was a charming relentlessness about her that just wore you down until you couldn't help but see things through the rose-colored glasses that she did. It was almost impossible not to like her. I could see us being friends for a long time.