“Hey!” Jay’s gaze shot to the man seated at the bar and followed his gaze to the overflowing drink in front of him. Crap.
Bart would call that alcohol abuse and dock his pay if he saw it. Quickly, dropping the bottle of vodka back into its slot in the display, Jay grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess.
“Come on, pretty.” Jay’s attention shot back to the table across the room where one of the guys was now waving Em over. “My friend has something he wants to ask you.”
Em took a single cautious step closer, chewing her lower lip and Jay’s hands fisted at his sides. “What can I do for you?”
“Are you going to give me that drink or not?” Jay glanced at the older man at the bar and slid him the slightly sticky glass, mumbling something about it being ‘on the house’. He’d deal with Bart later.
“So many things,” one of the assholes answered, causing a round of snickers from the rest. “Would you like me to make you a list? Or maybe after you get off work we could . . .”
That was it. He’d heard enough. Jay headed for the end of the bar at the same moment Bart stepped out of the kitchen and a man in a dark suit called out a drink order. Dammit. He was trapped. Powerless behind the goddamn bar. If he walked away from a customer it would likely cost him his job. He growled as his hands tightened around the wooden edge of the surface until his knuckles went white.
“Oh, don’t be that way.” The bastard harassing Em reached for her.
Screw the job. Jay’s blood boiled as he stormed toward the end of the bar, hell bent on putting an end to it. Just as he reached the hinged counter that served as the bars entrance/exit, another voice cut through the red haze clouding his vision.
“That’s enough! If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I think it’s time for you to leave.” Mason had inserted himself into the role of Em’s knight-in-shining-freaking-armor.
Dammit all to hell. Jay couldn’t decide if he wanted to thank him or pummel him bloody. When the group left the restaurant amid a chorus of complaints and catcalls and Mason’s arm went around Em to lead her away, it was decided. The jackass was going to bleed.
“Are you going to get me that whiskey sour?” The business suit looked restless, probably running out of time for his liquid lunch.
“Yeah, sure.”
Jay got busy mixing drinks and was sucked under a tidal wave of customers that lasted a solid four hours. Between screwdrivers, martinis, and the bottomless Long Island iced tea at the far end of the bar, he caught glimpses of Em flitting back and forth from the kitchen, taking orders and delivering food. She seemed fine, but it was killing him not to know. Not to look her in the eye, past the walls, and be sure that she was okay.
“Got time for a break?” Sahara was standing beside the bar wearing a shirt that looked like she outgrew when she was about five and batting her overly large baby blues.
Jay let his gaze slide pointedly over the packed bar in response.
“You work too hard. Tell Bart you need a bathroom break.”
God only knew what the girl thought they could do in a bathroom. “I’m good, actually.”
She pouted at him before turning and sashaying her way across the dining room, shaking her tail feather at him the entire way. That girl had some serious issues.
Barstools emptied and another round of customers filled them again. Over the next hour, Sahara made an inordinate number of trips to the ladies room, eyeing him each time like she expected the exaggerated sway of her hips to hypnotize him into following her.
“How’s it going?” Em looked dead on her feet, apron folded over her arm, dark shadows under her eyes, and hair all a mess. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Crazy.”
An older woman called out an order and Jay started mixing.
“Guess there’s no time for dinner, then?”
He hated having to tell her no, but—like age restrictions—Bart didn’t exactly believe in breaks. “I can’t tonight, baby.”
“No worries.” Mason swooped down on them with a broad grin. “I was going to grab some pizza. Why don’t you come with me and then I can drop you off at home? That way you won’t have to come back later to pick up Jay. You guys share that old truck, right?”
“I’ll get a ride—” Jay started at the same time Em asked, “Do you mind?”
She smiled at him and what was he supposed to do? Jay was forced to shake his head because his teeth were clenched so tightly he wasn’t certain he could get any words through.
“Great.” Mason looked too damn happy for his own good. “Let’s go. Later, Jay.”