"Did you notice the two bombshells over in the booth? They've been eyeing you since you walked in. The broads have more plastic on them than a Barbie doll, but man, are they hot! If it wasn't for my old lady, I might give 'em a wink or two. Not that I'm their type." Marlin cackled again at his own brand of wit.
"Yes, I noticed them right off. They're kind of hard to miss in the getups they're … 'wearing.' Keep an eye out, and if they get too inebriated, have security escort them upstairs. I don't need anything to happen to the double-D twins," he said with a wink.
"Why don't you just escort them on up yourself? I know how you like the girls with nothing but sex on their mind, and believe me, those women are looking to get laid."
"I think I'll pass, Marlin. They'll find their next victim soon enough." Even as he spoke, one of the girls had begun scanning the room for new prospects since it was obvious Crew wasn't interested. The other one wasn't giving up so easily. He had a bad feeling that if he stayed at the bar too long, she'd work up the energy to approach.
Women like her weren't used to making the first move. They normally had to fend guys off. Well, he wasn't just any guy.
"Yeah, that's what I thought, especially with the way you've been all googly-eyed over Ms. Sutherland," Marlin said as he put out his smoke, then moved down the bar quickly to replace a beer in front of one customer, and a gin and tonic in front of another.
Even if Marlin didn't seem to be paying attention, the man had eyes in the back of his head. He kept the drinks coming so customers never had the opportunity to think about leaving. It was why this lounge was making the most money in the resort, or the island for that matter, by a long shot.
"Speaking of Haley, have you seen her today?" Crew tried to ask casually, but by the triumphant look in Marlin's eyes, he hadn't succeeded in downplaying the way he felt.
That's why women were nothing but trouble, Crew warned himself.
"Yeah, she was in here about an hour ago. Had some soup and crackers, then said something about seeing the show tonight. I bet you're wanting to join her in that nice, dark theater." Marlin mocked him by making a kissing sound.
Seriously, the man was too old to be acting like a horny teenager.
"Maybe," Crew said noncommittally.
He couldn't give all his secrets away, after all.
Just as he got up to leave, his phone rang. With a frustrated groan, Crew picked it up, waved goodbye to Marlin, then headed toward his office. Perfect. A little longer until he got to meet up with Haley.
Chapter Eighteen
Crew's luck was out again, for things weren't going at all smoothly at his other lounge. The business there wasn't nearly as good as at Marlin's, and, worse, one of the employees had gotten into a fight with a patron and the manager had to fire the man on the spot. The guy was just lucky Crew hadn't been the one dealing with him.
Crew couldn't stand it when staff got unpleasant with their customers. Even if the customer was in the wrong, there were professional ways of handling it without making his resort look low-class.
Adding insult and injury, one of the cocktail waitresses got sick, and his other bartender slipped and sprained an ankle. This was certainly one of those nights in which Murphy's law ruled - anything that could go wrong, did.
So Crew did find himself behind the bar pouring drinks, and he wasn't happy about it. His manager was scrambling to call in replacement staff. This was all part of owning a resort, though. Everyone had to pitch in from time to time, even the owner - or sometimes the owner's family members. Crew would give anything, or almost anything, to have Ashton there with him. Hell, his younger brother had spent several years in Hawaii bartending while taking lessons in surfing, partying and being a jackass playboy. The kid was a pro, but he'd turned things around, thankfully.
Much to Crew's dismay, it didn't take long for the Double-Ds to hunt him down. He watched their eyes light up when they saw him trapped behind the counter. Twin feline grins spread across their faces as they nudged their way up to the bar. Two men eagerly jumped up to give them their stools and, on top of that, paid for their drinks.
Crew couldn't complain. The women had expensive tastes, and their swains' credit cards were racking up some serious income for him. If he ever wanted to sell the resort, the profit margins needed to stay well in the black. So, suppressing his shudders of disgust, he pasted on his most gracious and good-tempered smile as he leaned toward them. Surely a little light flirting couldn't get him into trouble.
"Are you ladies enjoying your stay here at the Catalina Couture?" he asked, keeping his voice low and warm.
"Mmm, well, the night sure has become a lot better now. We were in the film that won the 'Great Communicator' Award," one of them answered.