Page 9 of Disturbed Lucidity

Getting up from the table, I walked over to the sink and dumped the rest of my coffee, before rinsing out my cup and placing it in the dishwasher.

Heading back to my room, I quickly dressed, putting on a black tank top that accentuated my full breasts. Showing just enough cleavage to keep guys intrigued, but not enough to seem slutty. The short leather mini skirt covered all my girly bits and hugged my ass beautifully. Stepping into my favorite pair of black combat boots, I quickly laced them up before reaching for a hair tie. Grabbing my wavy, long black hair, I secured the tie in a high pony, letting my hair fall down my back.

I didn’t bother with too much make-up, only stressing my eyes with a little smoky shadow and mascara that highlighted my sterling silver-gray eyes.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what I saw, I headed for the front door.

Grabbing my backpack, I made sure I had the twenty Slash gave me and left my apartment for my first day of work.

I could hear the music pumping when the cab rolled to a stop. After giving the man his fare, I climbed out and looked at the building before me. The same grumpy bastard was guarding the door, glaring at me, ready for round two.

Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I straightened my back and marched over to the big guy.

Standing his ground, legs spread, arms crossed over his massive chest, the big lug refused to look at me.

“Hannibal, right?”

The big guy huffed.

“I’m Ivy. I thought we could start over.”

He grumbled, still not looking at me.

“I’m going to be the new bartender. Isn’t that great?”

Still nothing.

“You know, I’m tenacious. I won’t stop.”

He frowned.

Smiling, I leaned closer and whispered, “Tenacious means stubborn. You may not like me now, but I’m gonna grow on ya, big guy. I promise.”

Scooting around him, I entered the club.

“Okay, Barbie, it’s simple. Brothers drink for free. If they are wearing a cut, they are Disturbed. Everyone else pays. Plain and simple. No fucking freebies. Drinks are priced accordingly. Anything on tap is six bucks, bottles are seven-fifty, shots are eight. Anyone orders anything else, it’s twelve dollars. Non-negotiable. All tips you make are yours. However, if the till is short, you will pay the difference. Got it?”

“Yep.”

“Good. You get two fifteen-minute breaks and thirty minutes for dinner. The kitchen closes at ten, so be sure to tell Elvis what you want before he turns off the burners or you will starve. You work here, you eat for free.”

“Got it. Place an order with Elvis before ten p.m. Anything else?”

“Please tell me you guys got me her for my birthday?”

I grinned when a young man in a leather cut, shaggy brown hair, and a goofy grin leaned against the bar, salivating like a dog in heat. Several brothers walked into the clubhouse behind him. He looked barely legal, but I knew looks could be deceiving.

“Hi. I’m Ivy.”

“And I’m in love,” the goofy man exclaimed, his head in his hands as he looked all starry-eyed at me like I was his dream come true.

“Damn, I want a piece of that,” another said, taking a seat next to the goofball.

“I called dibs first. She’s mine!” the goofy guy snipped. “It’s my birthday, after all.”

“Your birthday was two months ago.” An older man with a perfectly trimmed military cut walked by, shaking his head as he looked at his phone. “Puck, leave the girl alone before Slash hands you your ass.”

“But, Frost, she’s too pretty for Slash. She needs me.”

---