Part One
Mystomachturns,inhaling the scent of something black and sticky inside the fridge. It’s so disgusting, even the bleach doesn’t help cover the smell of the tarnished shelving. It’s gotta be mold. On my hands and knees, I scrub the bottom shelf, gagging as I stand to toss away the rubber gloves I’m wearing.
Fuck this.
The department provided me this shit hole apartment to help maintain a believable cover. It’s fucking atrocious. From the living room, with its chipped walls, to the shitty bathroom with cracked green tiles. There are coatings of different colors of paint peeling from the walls. Layers of white cover blue and yellow. I don’t even want to know how many times an animal has pissed on this nasty blue carpeting. They definitely haven’t replaced it in at least a decade. It’s a flashback to my college days, only worse.
I need a drink to relax because I’m so fucking close to calling my commanding officer. He can fuck right the hell off if he thinks this is a suitable living condition. Grabbing my jacket, I leave my apartment to head for my bike. I remember seeing a bar a few blocks from here that intrigued me. Mac’s would be the perfect spot outside of the biker gang territory, where I won’t have to stress about someone I know running into me and blowing my cover.
The ride to Mac’s is quick. Being so late, there isn’t much traffic. When I enter the bar, there is a group of men sitting at the far end near the restrooms. To the right there are tall tables with chairs, and to the left, dining tables.
I head for an opening at the end of the bar, away from the larger group, and catch the bartender’s attention. I smile at her across the way. Her dark brown hair flows behind her back as she gives me a smile and waves. Wiping her hands on her black jeans, she heads my way.
“Hey there.” Her voice is bubbly as her golden brown eyes flash a warm sparkle.
“Hey.” A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. In a normal situation, I would tell her she has a great smile, or ask for her name. I’m not selfish enough to drag her into my illegal drama, no matter how much I want to flirt with this beautiful bartender. My gaze stays with her as she places a coaster in front of me and fills an empty glass of water.
“Do you know what you’d like?” She asks, a bit too eagerly. She dances on the balls of her feet.
I can’t help but to return a grin. She’s wearing a black t-shirt, clingy in the chest, loose around her stomach, and dark jeans, squeezing her curves in all the right places. I can tell she is tall, too. I prefer tall, so I’m not breaking my back for a kiss.
“Coors is fine.” I pull from my thoughts and place my order.
Groaning, her smile disappears. “Oh, come on!”
I stifle a chuckle at her disappointment. Her lips form into a perfect little pout. My shit mood has already been lifted in just a few moments. This will be my spot every night for the next year, if it means I get to have this little bit of sunshine on my darkest days.
“Sorry?” My eyebrow arches.
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, waving her hand to dismiss herself. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. That was very rude.” She laughs at herself and turns around, pulling a bottle of beer from the fridge, and popping the top off. “Sorry. It’s my first week. I was hopeful when my brother got me the job that I would, I don’t know, be mixing drinks. Not a single person has ordered anything other than beer or vodka and club soda.”
The way she rambles is extremely cute. She isn’t talking too much, just trying to dig herself out of a customer service hole. I should probably put her out of her misery, but her smooth voice draws me in like a damn bug to fire. I take my beer, pressing it to my lips and sip the cool liquid.
I want to keep her here, talking to me, and not let her return to any of the other customers. So, I entice her with an offer I know she will happily accept. “Okay. I’ll take a mixed drink. Go ahead. Surprise me.”
The sparkle in her brown eyes returns as she smiles brightly at her victory, and my heart flutters, knowing that I’m the reason for her beautiful smile. “Oh my God! Thank you. You won’t be disappointed.” She hurries down the bar, grabbing the items she needs, then runs back.
“Okay.” She smiles, placing a bowl of peanuts in front of me. “Dinner and a show?”
I stifle a smirk, watching her eagerly pour various liquids into the shaker, twirling her arms and dancing as she does. It’s obvious that she is putting on a spectacle for me, and I don’t mind it one bit. She finishes, pouring the contents into a tall, curvy glass and adding lemon and blueberry garnishes to the rim and she sets it in front of me.
She stands patiently, eyes wide and arms crossed as I take a sip. Smacking my lips, I finally nod. “Wow. That’s really great. What is it?”
“Nothing fancy. It’s a hurricane. Sweet with a sassy name.” She wiggles her eyebrows, then holds her hand out for me to shake. “I’m Andrea. Thank you for being my first actual customer.”
“Colby.” The name slips out so easily. I take Andrea’s hand and we shake. Her skin is warm and soft, and I don’t want to let go.
“Nice to meet you, Colby.” Andrea side steps as another bartender brushes behind her, brooding as he walks past. “Oh, Mac, look! My first mixed drink, isn’t she beautiful?”
The bartender looks up from the ice bin and glances at the drink. He turns to glance at me. “So she suckered you into a drink, huh? Sorry to hear that,” he grumbles, turning back to the ice bin, and dumping another bucket into it.
“He likes it. Don’t be an ass,” Andrea says, rolling her eyes at Mac. “So are you new in town?” She turns back to me.
“Yeah.” I nod, sipping my beer. “New job starts tomorrow.”
“Andrea. Leave the guy alone. Let him drink in peace.” The grumpy bartender warns as he walks by again. He towers over her, the top of her head just barely coming to his chin. He brushes past her, his hand grazing her elbow, which tells me they are close.
“Not everyone is in a shit mood, like you!” Andrea calls after him. She grabs a rag, wiping the counter in front of me.