“I can take a look at it.”
“Um—”
“I know cars, Olivia. Rebuilt this one myself.”
“It’s just…” She pauses.
“Just?”
“It got towed,” she blurts out.
I pull up in front of her building, stop, and then throw the car in park before turning toward her. Her face is red from either shame or embarrassment as she takes a deep breath.
“It got impounded, and I used all the money I had to get it towed to my building’s parking lot. So, I don’t have the money to get it fixed yet. That’s why I applied for the bartending position. I’ll figure it out. It’s just gonna take me a little time.”
“I can look at it.”
“I’m not asking for a handout.” She looks up at me, scowling a little. “Just an opportunity to make the money I need to get caught up.”
I stare back at her, a little floored. She is a little worker. Bat shit crazy, but in a world full of entitled fucks, Olivia is a breath of fresh air. Not only that, she is hot as hell. Her pale skin contrasts with the deep brown locks of her hair. Her curves are tighter than I’m used to, but like an hourglass I wouldn’t mind tipping her over and shaking her in a little less invasive manner than I’m used to.
“Not gonna allow you to walk home from my bar.”
“I’ll take a cab.” As her eyes narrow, I can see the wheels churning in her head.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
Her features slowly start to soften. “I’ll pay for gas.”
I don’t accept. “Tuesday nights are slow. Thursday nights are no place for a lady behind the bar; I think you see why.”
“It’s ladies’ night.” She smiles and looks down again, hiding her face from me.
“Did you see any ladies in there tonight?” I laugh.
“I made fifty dollars.” She is bargaining with me.
“On a Friday night, you can make three times that in tips. On a Saturday, when we have entertainment, four or five times that.”
“Shut. Up!”
Holy shit, I haven’t heard her voice that loud before or seen her face bust out into a bright as hell smile like the one she has now. It makes my still heart beat.
“You wanna give up Thursday nights for Friday and Saturday?” I can’t help smiling back at her. I also can’t believe I’m giving her my busiest nights when tonight was far from smooth. Hell, I guess it’s because I wouldn’t mind seeing her smile more often. It feels good.
“And Tuesday.”
My jaw drops a bit. “Three nights on top of a full-time job? What will your boyfriend say?”
She looks down once again and shakes her head. “I don’t have time for boys.”
Good answer, Olivia, I think to myself.
“But I may meet someone now since I work for you.”
“Not at work you won’t,” I reply gruffer than I intended. I tell myself I don’t want to see her hitting on someone because watching crazy Livi crash and burn might piss me off. In reality, I’m thinking it might be something more.
She looks at me and nods quickly. “Of course not.”
Friday night is hopping. The facelift the bar got brought in a lot of curious neighborhood customers, and I am serving Prime Rib since hiring Olivia has freed me up to cook. She fucks up a little—okay, a lot—but she is seriously trying. I’m sure she will figure it out eventually.
While closing up, I notice her checking me out. “You good?”
“Yep, I was just curious. The tattoos, did they hurt?”
“Like a bee stinging. No big deal.”
“You have a lot of them.”
“Sure do. You have any?”
“No.” She starts cleaning the glasses that are still piled up. “I guess nothing ever meant enough to me to have permanently put on my body.” She laughs nervously.
“What’s so funny?” I walk a little closer, hoping that it’s me that put that smile on her face.
She shrugs. “I used to love Hello Kitty.”
“Hello Kitty?” I have no idea what the hell that is.
This chick is so random. Wow, everything comes and goes quickly, catch it while can with her.
“A little white cartoon kitten. I was just thinking…” She stops and laughs. Damn, I like that laugh.
“What were you just thinking?” And why the hell did I really want to know? I need to know, but why? I keep asking myself why. Crazy Livi is making me crazy.
“Well, there was a time I would have probably had a tattoo of Tinkerbelle put on me. Then the Hello Kitty phase. If I were brave enough, I may have had her put on as well.” She looks over at me and smiles big again. I fucking love that smile. “I would have been a walking cartoon character.”
I laugh with her. “I assume that’s why the law is eighteen years old to get inked.”
“What was your first time like?”
I take in a deep breath and sit down on the stool as I throw the clean bar rag at her so she can dry her hands. “Awkward. You know, pretty normal. I was glad she had experience. She took charge of my gear, made it easier on me. You wonder what it’s gonna be like, and once you start, you realize you could never have even dreamed of how good it actually felt. You close your eyes and try to be the man, but when it starts, you lose control.” I look at her, seeing she looks confused. I laugh. “What was your first time like?”