“Sorry!” I hollered, waving my hand out the window in apology.
I’d started my day behind from the start. I slept through my alarm and barely made it to my kickboxing class. Now I was running late for work.
Annoying, yes. Unusual? Not so much. Punctuality had never been my strong suit.
Now, as for my driving skills, personally, I didn’t see the problem. I always drove with determination and perhaps a bit of a lead foot. Why my friends were always white knuckling it whenever they were forced to ride with me was beyond me.
It was a sweltering day and because the AC in my trusty Corolla had long since gone kaput, I had all the windows down, treating all those around me to my girl Dolly Parton crooning. I blasted her as loud as my poor speakers could handle.
My music tastes had always been what some might call eclectic and others might deem slightly schizophrenic. I’d always loved everything from country to heavy metal to pop. It all depended on my mood.
“I know, I know, I’m late,” I said apologetically as I swept into the bar, throwing my bag down and sweeping my dark hair out of my face. Even after months of growing it out, it was still an adjustment after having short hair almost all my life. But, change could be good, and I liked the side-swept bangs and longer layers I’d been rocking as of late.
It was still early evening and only a few regulars sat at the bar. They raised their glasses in a brief salute before turning back to the TV.
Pete, my boss, rolled his eyes. “When are you not late?” he muttered under his breath.
“I heard that,” I hollered to his back as he headed for the stockroom. I set to work slicing limes, prepping for what I hoped would be a busy night ahead.
When Pete had offered me the job at his bar, aptly named Pete’s, I’d jumped at the chance. He also owned Jupiter, the brewery I’d waitressed at for several years alongside my best friend, Scarlet. I hadn’t enjoyed working at Jupiter as much since Scar left to start nursing school and to prepare for impending motherhood. Pete’s was a nice change and offered me autonomy. Pete let me manage myself and I liked the patrons, for the most part.
The bar was small and dimly lit, as any good dive bar had to be. The worn leather stools looked well-loved with their nicks and tears from frequent use. The booths alongside the windows were equally worn but comfortable and relatively private. There was enough room toward the back for a pool table, which was almost always in use.
Cole had fought hard to get me to work at one of the bars the club owned, but I’d firmly declined. Being affiliated with the club meant I already had a band of badass, overly protective big brothers whether I liked it or not. I didn’t need to work with them, too.
The Lumineers sang soothingly through the speakers as I wiped down the bar, preparing for last call. Mike, one of my regulars, continued to prattle on about his ex-wife, a common occurrence. I nodded my head indicating I was listening as I continued going about my tasks.
I was a good listener and having an open ear seemed to be a cure of sorts for most of my regulars. I got along with them just fine. They came in to share a laugh, a beer, and some conversation. I probably knew more about some of these people than their families did.
The door swung open and I rolled my eyes good naturedly as Wes strode into the bar as if he owned the place. I’d been telling the guys every night for six months they didn’t need to escort me home, but so far, my requests had fallen on deaf ears. I knew they felt it was their responsibility to look out for me now that Sal was gone.
I was touched by how, even though he was gone, the guys still cared about me. But, there were downsides, too. For instance, when they found out I’d agreed, albeit reluctantly, to go out on a date, it would be interesting to say the least. Scarlet was determined for me to go out with one of her doctor friends. She swore up and down that Gavin was the perfect guy to reintroduce myself to the dating pool.
The truth was I’d sooner shave my eyebrows off than date. And my heart wasn’t ready. No one would ever measure up to Sal.
But Scarlet was pushy on a good day. A nine-month pregnant Scarlet? You might as well roll over and say “uncle,” which is basically what I was doing.
“Kat, it’s not even that I want you to date,” she’d said when we’d talked about it for the thousandth time the previous week. “I just want you to go out. Have somefun. Remember fun?”
I’d rolled my eyes in response. “Vaguely.”
I’d always been a bit of a wild child. I liked to burn the candle at both ends so to speak; go out late, dance, drink entirely too much at times, socialize. All that.
But I’d been somewhat of a hermit since becoming involuntarily single. I’d already mellowed my ways a bit when I’d started dating Sal. He was more of a few beers at home; throw in a movie type of guy. And I found I wanted to spend the majority of my time with him anyway. The late night parties and bars didn’t hold the same allure when I could be snuggling with my man.
“Hey, Kat,” Wes said with a grin, sitting casually at the bar as I prepared to close things down.
“Wes,” I said as I smiled back at my friend, Connie’s fiancé and one of Cole’s right-hand men. Like all the guys, Wes was intimidating until you got to know him. He was solidly built and carried himself in a way that demanded respect.
“See you next time, Kat,” Mike stated as he patted the bar and gathered his coat.
“See ya, Mike,” I replied. “Hey guys, time to call it a night,” I said firmly, turning to the two guys at the end of the bar who’d been tying one on for the past few hours. They grumbled in response, but rose unsteadily to head home.
“You comin’ to the club for the barbeque?” Wes asked conversationally as I locked the doors.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I still avoided the club to some extent. It reminded me so much of Sal.
“Hot date?” he asked, teasing me.