felicity
It’stwo in the morning when the last act of the night strums the final chord of their set; nearly two thirty by the time we manage to get everyone out the door so the staff can close up. We all work in silence, too exhausted to speak after eight straight hours of taking orders. Jay restocks the bar with bottles from the back room. Carly organizes the stage equipment and sound booth. Adam is in his office counting the cash and going over the schedule. Isaac floats from task to task like a shadow, silently overseeing everything. I sweep the floor, wipe down tables, and try not to think too much about a certain musician who’s been haunting my thoughts since I left him in the dark.
Frankly, I don’t have time to think about Ryder. Not his broad shoulders or the close-trimmed crop of facial hair that surrounds his smirking mouth. Not the way his voice rasped out in the night, smoother than silk against my skin. Not the distracting fact that he’s got two different colored irises: one blue, one brown, both capable of seeing straight through me.
I have far more important matters to dwell on, at the moment.
It’s only now, in the quiet aftermath of this chaotic first shift, that reality boils back to the surface. I’ve been too busy taking drink orders to spare any thought to trivial things… like the fact that I don’t know a soul in Nashville outside the four walls of this establishment… and the reality that I don’t even have a place to stay tonight.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I didn’t anticipate Isaac hiring me on the spot this afternoon. I thought I’d have a day or two to sort out my living situation before I started working here. But I couldn’t exactly say no when he offered. And now…
I’m totally screwed.
I’ll probably end up sleeping on a park bench, shivering in the darkness and hoping I don’t encounter anyone with nefarious intentions. True, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept outside, but I’m not exactly relishing the prospect of a muggy, mosquito-filled night in an unfamiliar city.
“You weren’t half bad tonight, kid.”
I jump at the sudden sound of Isaac’s voice, spilling a small pile of salt on the tabletop in the process.
“Oh, sugar!” I curse, sweeping my mess into the palm of my hand. “Sorry about that, I’m not usually such a klutz…”
Isaac’s brows are by his hairline. “You’re aware that’s salt… not sugar?”
“I know it’s salt. I meantoh, sugaras inoh, sh..oot.” I finish lamely, unable to bring myself to say the word even now. “Old habit, I guess. My Gran always replaces her swears with sweets.Donutsinstead ofdamn.Or, if she’s really revved up,fudgeinstead offu… Well, I’m sure you get the idea.”
He stares at me blankly.
“I’m not a priss or anything,” I say defensively. “I don’t mind if other people swear around me. But every time I try, I think of Gran saying, ‘If you talk like a sailor you’ll never marry one,’and I can’t seem to get the word past my lips.” I swallow hard. “Her first husband was a Navy man, you see.”
Isaac’s brows are so far up his forehead, they’re about to disappear.
“Not that I want to get married anytime soon. Or ever,” I say hurriedly, unsure how I even landed myself on this topic. I blame the lack of sleep. Lack of food. Lack of anything resembling a proper life plan.
I bite my lip so I’ll stop talking.
“So, it’s real then,” Isaac grunts.
“Wh-what?”
“The sweet-as-pie act. It’s not an act at all.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Course you don’t.” He sighs deeply. “Frankly, I didn’t expect you to last the night. But, sweet or not, you’re no pushover. You can handle yourself in a dense crowd, you’re fast on your feet, you messed up fewer orders than girls who’ve been here five times as long, and the staff likes you.”
My eyes dart toward the door to the back room, where Adam disappeared a few minutes ago. Seeing my expression, Isaac chuckles. “Ah, hell, don’t worry about Adam. He treats everyone like they’re gum stuck to his shoe.”
I laugh. “Oh, good. I won’t take it personally, then.”
“Point is, you surprised me. I think you’re a good fit here.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Isaac. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t have my newest employee sleeping on the streets.”
My cheeks flame with embarrassment. I’d forgotten that, while storming out of here earlier in a moment of high temper, I let slip my current housing situation.
“I’ll be fine,” I swallow. “I’ll use the tips I made tonight to rent a room. There’s nothing in my budget around here, but there’s a place a mile or so away— The Southern Comfort Inn? I looked it up before I booked my bus ticket.”