Getting Rowdy
Page 7
But again, Rowdy had him beat. An air of danger sharpened everything about Rowdy: his appeal, his looks, his attitude and his capability.
His success with women.
It seemed to her that Rowdy either worked or indulged in female company. Overall he seemed tireless, and very determined to make the bar a success. He stayed after she left, and was almost always there when she arrived.
Today... Well, he’d been there, all right. Really early. Did he often stay the night at the bar? Had he indulged in other liaisons in his office?
Ella approached for a drink order. “Crisis averted,” she quipped, talking about how Rowdy had defused the situation. “He’s the whole package, isn’t he?”
“He does a great job,” Avery agreed.
At thirty-four, Ella was eight years older than her. Unlike Avery, the waitress wore heeled shoes and a low-cut top, and she never stopped smiling. Forever flirting, she called everyone “sweetie” or “sugar,” and she liked to touch. Nothing too intimate, at least not while working. But she did like to get close.
On some women, that barhop personality might seem clichéd, but not on Ella, who was too sincere and far too caring to be anything other than original.
Twining a long lock of her dark brown hair around a finger, Ella leaned on the bar while Avery filled three whiskey shots. “What do you think the meeting is about tonight?”
Avery shrugged. “Rowdy didn’t say, so who knows?”
“Jones was hoping he’d finally get some help in the back. That poor baby works up a sweat every night.”
While Avery would never call the midsixties, lean-and-mean cook a “baby,” she agreed that he had his hands full. Jones, like Ella, was a happy guy. He wore his long graying hair in a ponytail, had more tats than Avery could count, and cursed while cooking—especially during the busier nights.
When possible, one of the waitresses lent him a hand, but those times were few and far between. Rowdy had hoped to keep three waitresses full-time, but only Ella had accepted. The other two, who enjoyed the tips they’d made while dancing the pole, hadn’t appreciated Rowdy’s decision to remove it. They’d dropped to part-time, their schedules rotating so they could pick up work at a club.
“I doubt it has anything to do with the kitchen since we’re getting together late.” With some remodeling still underway, Rowdy often called meetings. If it involved the cook, he’d have collected them before work because the kitchen closed at eleven.
“Well, no matter. He always pays us well when he keeps us over, so I don’t mind.” Ella picked up her tray. “Rowdy sure is something.”
Yeah, he was something all right. Big. Macho.
Oversexed.
Sashaying with each step, Ella strolled away.
Even without the pole, Ella made a killing in tips. But then, it was a busy night, so Avery didn’t do so badly, either.
At 1:00 a.m., when Rowdy gave the last call, Avery was more than ready to call it a night. Twice Rowdy had given her a break, but she’d yet to see him off his feet.
Finally, when the last guest was out the door and Rowdy had locked up, they gathered in the break room. As soon as Avery and Ella took a seat at the round table, Rowdy said, “Sorry, Ella, but we’re switching to a uniform.”
“Why are you sorry, sugar?” Ella crossed her long legs. “I’ve worn uniforms before. Some of them are real cute.”
“Not this kind.” Rowdy laid out the black, unisex, crew neck T-shirt with the bar name on the front in neon yellow. “Nothing sexy, Ella. I want everyone wearing the shirt with jeans.” He shook an apron from a bag. “And one of these.”
Avery eyed the black utilitarian aprons with the same logo as the T-shirts. “I like them.”
Ella looked horrified.
“You get three each. If I could, I’d pony up one for each day of the week, but hopefully, for now, these’ll get you through.”
“You’ll look incredible, Ella,” Avery told her. “It’ll be like a tease. All the men will wonder what they’re not seeing.”
“It’s not the same.” She located her size, hesitated, then put the shirts back and took a size smaller. “I better not lose tips because of this.”
“I doubt you will,” Rowdy said, “because the customers love you. But all the same, I’m giving you a raise. Additional buck an hour.”
That got her smiling again. “Really?”
“We’re doing better than I’d expected, and you’ve really given a hundred percent.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest ever?” Ella dropped the shirts and left her seat to give Rowdy an enthusiastic hug.
Clearly thankful for that reaction, Rowdy hugged her off her feet and kissed the top of her head.
He looked so relieved that Avery assumed he must have been expecting more of an argument.
Over the top of Ella’s head he met her gaze, and slowly eased the other waitress away.
Did he think she’d be jealous of Ella? No. She knew Rowdy valued Ella as an employee, nothing more.
Ella beamed up at him. “Is there anything else, sugar?”
“Nope. That’s it.” He put her shirts and aprons in a bag for her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Ella gave him a loud kiss on the cheek, stroked his chest once and headed for the back door with her share of the new garments.
From her chair, Avery could see out the break room, through the kitchen to the back door. She watched Rowdy lock the door and then return to her. He dropped into a chair. “One down,” he muttered.
His success with women.
It seemed to her that Rowdy either worked or indulged in female company. Overall he seemed tireless, and very determined to make the bar a success. He stayed after she left, and was almost always there when she arrived.
Today... Well, he’d been there, all right. Really early. Did he often stay the night at the bar? Had he indulged in other liaisons in his office?
Ella approached for a drink order. “Crisis averted,” she quipped, talking about how Rowdy had defused the situation. “He’s the whole package, isn’t he?”
“He does a great job,” Avery agreed.
At thirty-four, Ella was eight years older than her. Unlike Avery, the waitress wore heeled shoes and a low-cut top, and she never stopped smiling. Forever flirting, she called everyone “sweetie” or “sugar,” and she liked to touch. Nothing too intimate, at least not while working. But she did like to get close.
On some women, that barhop personality might seem clichéd, but not on Ella, who was too sincere and far too caring to be anything other than original.
Twining a long lock of her dark brown hair around a finger, Ella leaned on the bar while Avery filled three whiskey shots. “What do you think the meeting is about tonight?”
Avery shrugged. “Rowdy didn’t say, so who knows?”
“Jones was hoping he’d finally get some help in the back. That poor baby works up a sweat every night.”
While Avery would never call the midsixties, lean-and-mean cook a “baby,” she agreed that he had his hands full. Jones, like Ella, was a happy guy. He wore his long graying hair in a ponytail, had more tats than Avery could count, and cursed while cooking—especially during the busier nights.
When possible, one of the waitresses lent him a hand, but those times were few and far between. Rowdy had hoped to keep three waitresses full-time, but only Ella had accepted. The other two, who enjoyed the tips they’d made while dancing the pole, hadn’t appreciated Rowdy’s decision to remove it. They’d dropped to part-time, their schedules rotating so they could pick up work at a club.
“I doubt it has anything to do with the kitchen since we’re getting together late.” With some remodeling still underway, Rowdy often called meetings. If it involved the cook, he’d have collected them before work because the kitchen closed at eleven.
“Well, no matter. He always pays us well when he keeps us over, so I don’t mind.” Ella picked up her tray. “Rowdy sure is something.”
Yeah, he was something all right. Big. Macho.
Oversexed.
Sashaying with each step, Ella strolled away.
Even without the pole, Ella made a killing in tips. But then, it was a busy night, so Avery didn’t do so badly, either.
At 1:00 a.m., when Rowdy gave the last call, Avery was more than ready to call it a night. Twice Rowdy had given her a break, but she’d yet to see him off his feet.
Finally, when the last guest was out the door and Rowdy had locked up, they gathered in the break room. As soon as Avery and Ella took a seat at the round table, Rowdy said, “Sorry, Ella, but we’re switching to a uniform.”
“Why are you sorry, sugar?” Ella crossed her long legs. “I’ve worn uniforms before. Some of them are real cute.”
“Not this kind.” Rowdy laid out the black, unisex, crew neck T-shirt with the bar name on the front in neon yellow. “Nothing sexy, Ella. I want everyone wearing the shirt with jeans.” He shook an apron from a bag. “And one of these.”
Avery eyed the black utilitarian aprons with the same logo as the T-shirts. “I like them.”
Ella looked horrified.
“You get three each. If I could, I’d pony up one for each day of the week, but hopefully, for now, these’ll get you through.”
“You’ll look incredible, Ella,” Avery told her. “It’ll be like a tease. All the men will wonder what they’re not seeing.”
“It’s not the same.” She located her size, hesitated, then put the shirts back and took a size smaller. “I better not lose tips because of this.”
“I doubt you will,” Rowdy said, “because the customers love you. But all the same, I’m giving you a raise. Additional buck an hour.”
That got her smiling again. “Really?”
“We’re doing better than I’d expected, and you’ve really given a hundred percent.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest ever?” Ella dropped the shirts and left her seat to give Rowdy an enthusiastic hug.
Clearly thankful for that reaction, Rowdy hugged her off her feet and kissed the top of her head.
He looked so relieved that Avery assumed he must have been expecting more of an argument.
Over the top of Ella’s head he met her gaze, and slowly eased the other waitress away.
Did he think she’d be jealous of Ella? No. She knew Rowdy valued Ella as an employee, nothing more.
Ella beamed up at him. “Is there anything else, sugar?”
“Nope. That’s it.” He put her shirts and aprons in a bag for her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Ella gave him a loud kiss on the cheek, stroked his chest once and headed for the back door with her share of the new garments.
From her chair, Avery could see out the break room, through the kitchen to the back door. She watched Rowdy lock the door and then return to her. He dropped into a chair. “One down,” he muttered.
