“That’s easy,” she said. “On two legs.”
“Then what keeps you here?”
They stared at each other. He didn’t look as though he expected an answer, and that was good. She wasn’t going to give him one—it was none of his business.
“You think you have me figured out in ten minutes?” Lola asked.
“That’s ten minutes longer than it takes me for most people.” Beau kept his eyes on her face. “And that has my attention.”
“Is it hard to get your attention?”
“It’s harder to keep it,” he said, without even a threat in his voice that he might take his attention away. Even though neither of them moved, it was as if they were getting closer and closer. “But you, Lola, you’re—”
“We’re low on change,” Johnny said, turning the corner from the back office. “Can you do a bank run Monday?”
Lola plunged her hands deeper into the hot water and fumbled for the sponge. “Sure,” she said and wiped her brow with her forearm. “Yeah. I have to make the deposit anyway.”
Johnny looked from Lola to Beau.
“This is Beau,” she said. “Apparently my little show out front made him thirsty.”
Johnny nodded once and shook Beau’s hand. “Johnny. Welcome.”
“This your bar?”
“Nah. I just manage it with Lola.”
“She’s modest,” he said. “She didn’t say she was a manager.”
“Assistant manager to my boyfriend.” She looked at Beau’s empty glass. “Guess you needed that drink. Another?”
Beau reached inside his jacket and took out his wallet. “Looks like it’ll be one of those nights. Let me guess…cash only?”
Lola nodded and refilled his drink.
He put some bills on the bar and gestured toward the men he’d arrived with. “For our first round. Everything they order goes on my tab.”
Johnny blatantly stared at the cash-stuffed, dark leather wallet in Beau’s hand.
“Do they work for you?” Lola asked.
“Not yet. But I want to show them a good time.”
“So you brought them here?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Hey Joe could definitely be a good time, but it was a lot of other things too, like rough around the edges.
“This is the type of place where they’re comfortable,” Beau said. “Which is what I’m after. A colleague suggested it, said it’s been around a while.”
“Only fifty-three years,” Johnny said. “It’s practically a landmark.”
“Longer than I realized,” Beau said. “What makes it a landmark?”
“It was the place to be in the sixties and seventies,” Johnny said. “Live music drew everyone from bikers and hipsters to actors and movie producers.”
“I guess that’s why the Hendrix reference.”
Johnny nodded. “The owner’s dad saw him perform ‘Hey Joe’ here on the Strip late one night for a small crowd. Apparently it was so magical he named the bar after it. Man, I would’ve fucking loved to have seen that. Not that I was even born yet, but still.”
Beau looked at the microphone on the empty stage. “What happened to the music?”
Johnny shrugged and leaned his hip against the counter. “The club went pay for play in the eighties when Mitch took over. Bands didn’t like that, and we lost our cred. Fans followed the music elsewhere.”
“How’s business now?” Beau asked.
“It’s all right. We get acts in here some weekends, but nothing to write home about.”
Beau shrugged. “You never know. These days, it’s all about the comeback.”
“That would be great, but it’s not pulling in half of what it used to,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “Can’t afford to keep the doors open.”
Beau glanced up around the bar. “Well, considering its history, and if it’s still got some name recognition, he should have no problem selling the place.”
“That’s the plan. Sell or shut it down.”
“Johnny,” Lola warned.
“Secret’s practically out, babe.” Johnny looked at Quartz and the other guys. “It’s just those dummies down there who know nothing about anything.”
“I take it they won’t be too thrilled,” Beau said.
“Some of them have been coming here since opening day,” Johnny said. “No, they won’t like it.”
“That’s a shame.” Beau picked up his drink. “I should get back to work. If you’ll excuse me.”
He left Johnny and Lola to get a table with the other two men.
“What’re you thinking?” Johnny asked, nudging Lola’s shin with his shoe.
She looked from Beau’s table back to Johnny. “Just that it’s been a while since I heard you talk about music like that. When’s the last time you and I went to a real concert?”
Johnny closed one eye as he thought. “Years. Concerts usually happen at night. We don’t get a lot of nights off together.”
“We should ask Mitch for one soon. They can survive one night without either of us.”
Johnny kissed Lola on the forehead. “I would, but he’s got a lot on his plate right now. Let’s see how things work out these next few weeks.”
“Oh, I remember the last time we went to a show that wasn’t here,” Lola said. “Beastie Boys, Hollywood Bowl.” She smiled as the memory played out on Johnny’s face. “And then…”
“That’s right.” He paused. “The night we had that huge argument.”
Lola nodded and leaned toward him. “Which then became the night of the drunken angry sex.” Her heart kicked up a notch. “What would you say to an encore? A bottle of tequila, a show and you getting lucky?”
“An encore? We must not be thinking of the same night,” Johnny said. “We both drank way too much. I don’t even remember what we fought about, just that a table lamp paid the price.”
“Me neither, but I do remember one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” Lola said. Her ass throbbed. It wasn’t the only time Johnny had spanked her, but it was the first and last time he’d done it like he’d meant it. It’d been like sleeping with a stranger after having the same partner for years.
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t understand. You want us to have another blowout fight?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Not fight. I just think a night out could be good for us.”
“That’s not something I want to recreate,” he said, turning away. “But I promise, once things get sorted here, we’ll do something for ourselves.”
Lola frowned. That night had always stuck with her in a deranged, inexplicable way. There’d been something crackling in the air. She’d assumed the same was true for Johnny, but apparently he’d experienced something else—something entirely different.
Beau was heading back toward the bar, a slight swagger in his step. He didn’t look as though he’d hesitate a moment before delivering a hard slap on her rear end. Lola’s breath caught.
“We’ll take another round,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bar. “Might as well keep them coming.”
Lola grabbed a glass before Johnny could, eager for the distraction.
“You guys play?” Beau asked. He gestured to a cup of darts against the back wall.
“Yep,” Johnny said. “My girl’s queen of the bull’s eye.”
“Is she?” Beau grinned. “Up for a game, Lola?”
“Why don’t you play with one of your friends?” she asked. She handed Beau his drink and pointed at the end of the bar. “Or the locals will take anyone on. When they’re drunk enough, you can clean them out.”
Beau lifted his glass to his mouth, shaking his head. “No challenge in that. I only go up against those who play to win.”
Johnny wiped his hands on a rag and nodded over at Lola. “Then you want this one. Got a bit of a competitive streak.”
Lola was wary about spending too much time around Beau. They were already hedging on dangerous territory. “Sorry, but I’ve got customers.”
“It’s all right, go ahead,” Johnny said, taking the drink in Lola’s hand. “I’ll get these to the table.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Why not? Go. Have fun.”