“Are you guys always this busy on a Tuesday night?” Harper asked as she pulled off her helmet, looking around the full parking lot.
I had picked her up at her apartment, taking her to Wheelz. She had been slightly hesitant at first, as I knew she was still embarrassed about her drunkenness the last time she was here. I assured her it was no big deal, definitely not anything we hadn’t seen before. It had taken a little convincing, but I shared a couple of stories about some of the most outrageous drunken escapades of the club members, including the time Numbers, our Treasurer, had gotten trashed during a club meeting on the second floor and fallen down the stairs, breaking his collarbone. He hadn’t been able to ride his bike for two months and complained about it the whole time. I also shared a story about the time that Smoke had gotten so drunk that he forgot the woman he was hitting on in the bar was actually Gunner’s wife. That hadn’t ended well, but they made up the next day, despite the black eye Smoke was sporting.
“Usually weeknights are slow, but we have a band playing tonight. They’re a local rock cover band that has a hell of a following. So much so that they’re kind of hard to pin down on a weekend, and pricey. I figured, what the hell, let’s try a Tuesday.”
I already felt glad that I’d done it. For the weeknight, the band cost six hundred dollars and I was sure it would be more than worth it with this many customers. I could already hear the music playing, the bass drum thumping at a fast beat I could feel vibrating my sternum as we drew close. There wouldn’t be much chance of conversation tonight, but I didn’t mind that. Harper and I had the ability to enjoy each other’s company even if we weren’t constantly talking. Something I never really had with a woman before.
I held her hand as I opened the door of the bar, correctly anticipating it would be crowded and not wanting to lose her among my customers.
On a typical night at Wheelz, there weren’t a lot of tourists. We got the occasional biker that was traveling, especially since we were just south of the Natchez Trace Parkway, which was a popular route for riders that wanted to enjoy over four hundred miles of a historic forest trail. But most tourists that came to the region were more interested in the coast than anything else.
But tonight, I was sure many of the people in the bar were from out-of-town. There were certain signs, such as a midwestern accent or sunburns that indicated a person wasn’t used to this kind of weather. I even caught sight of a middle-aged woman wearing an honest-to-God fanny pack. Who knew they still made those?
Personally, on a night like this, I didn’t care who was in the bar as long as I made decent money. Wheelz was a business first and foremost and a clubhouse second. But the second floor – which was comprised of my small office and a large, open space with a conference table for the club’s meetings – was only open to Rebel Saints.
I worked my way through the crowd with my arm extended behind me to keep a hold of Harper until we reached the bar. Charlie was working and I had to admit our prospect had picked up bartending quickly for someone with no prior experience. I also had two women who worked for me on the weekends come in to help behind the bar and one waitress. They were all beautiful women, but none of them were single. I hadn’t intentionally hired unavailable women, but it worked out well for me because the club members all knew they were off-limits. The last thing I needed was one of my employees sleeping with a club member. If it didn’t work out, it was sure to make things awkward around the bar, and that would be bad news all around.
Charlie that spotted me first as I came up to the bar, and he came over with a bottle of my favorite beer already in his hand.
“How are you doing tonight?” I asked, shouting to be heard over the music. I took the beer from him after he popped the top. “Need anything?”
“Nope. Me and the girls have got it covered,” he said, leaning over the bar and also shouting. The band was playing a Queen song and it was loud enough to fill the entire space and then some, but the customers seemed to love it. I’d never seen the dance floor so full. I turned to Harper and couldn’t help smiling as I saw she was singing along to the music. “What do you want to drink?” I asked her.
Her eyes landed on the beer in my hand. “I’ll take one of those.”
I handed mine over to her and got another one from Charlie. As I looked around, I saw all the stools were occupied and there were people at every table. I knew Harper got along well with Chalk, so when I spotted him playing against a man wearing a black leather jacket and a red bandana tied around his head, I took her over in that direction.
Money sat on the edge of the pool table, so I knew Chalk was probably hustling this guy to win his money. He was good at that, which was how he got his nickname.
A ledge running along the wall was where we placed our drinks, and I leaned close to Harper so I could speak into her ear. The smell of lavender in her hair filled my nostrils. “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, and I walked away, going up the stairs to my office. I had a barstool in there, and grabbed it, making sure to lock up before heading back downstairs. It was harder to make my way through the crowd carrying the seat and I got a few covetous looks as I went, but I ignored them and made it back to Harper’s side.
She was watching Chalk kick his opponent’s ass.
The man looked angry as he stood off to the side, his face red and his knuckles white where he was holding onto the pool cue.
I placed the stool down beside her and gestured for her to sit.
“What about you?” She leaned in close to ask into my ear, her breath tickling my neck.
“Don’t worry about me,” I told her. No way I would sit while my girl had to stand.
No, not my girl.
That implied the kind of commitment I was uncomfortable with.
“Please, sit,” I said.
She complied, flashing me a bright smile.
We drank and watched the band for a while and I was impressed by their talent. I could tell they put a lot of work into practice because it paid off on the stage. The time period of the songs they played ranged over the last forty years and I recognized many of them. They sounded just like they did on the original recordings.
I kept watching Harper as she sang along to the songs and bobbed her head to the beat. She took her time drinking her beer, and I had two while she was working on the one. I decided to cut myself off after that since I needed to be able to ride my bike later.
The band took a break after three songs, promising to return in fifteen minutes. I took the opportunity to go to the bar and let Charlie know to give the band members free drinks during their break. They were bringing in the business after all.
I didn’t see trouble coming until I was walking back toward the pool table area, where I’d left Harper.