Page 18 of Bone Dust

“Mac done quit on me. He’s following true love and moving across the country with his girlfriend.”

My brows knit together. “You gonna hire someone new?”

“I guess. That’s the only thing I hate about owning my own place. It’s a pain in the ass sifting through bullshitters to find someone reliable but, I can’t do it all myself.” He glances over his shoulder. “As you can see, I’m the only one behind the bar tonight.”

He dumps the contents of the ice buckets into the stainless steel cooler. It’s always hotter in Mad Dog than it should be, and sweat beads quickly sprout on the metal sides.

Sam brushes his hands together then swipes them down the side of his jeans. “Mine ain’t the only place where good help is a priority. Rock Hills is growin’ but it ain’t Nashville.”He pauses, cocks his head, and his eyes meet mine. A sly grin creeps into his lips. “Not yet anyway.” He juts his chin.“What about you? You wanna make some extra money till I find some muscle-bound kid for the job.”

“You can keep your money,” I scoff, “but I’ll help you out ‘till you find somebody. I owe you.”

He waves off my comment. “You don’t owe me shit. I’d be glad for the help, though, and you’ll take the money. If you don’t want it, give it away—or use it to hire somebody to help at your place. You did great on the inside but you’ve a shitload of work on the grounds.”

I look down at the cooler and the sinks. “I never worked in a bar. You’ll have to show me what to do.”

He grabs some glasses from one basin of water and dips them in another. “It ain’t rocket science but it’s hard work. A lotta lifting. It’s a good workout, though. Keeps my ass in shape.” He flexes both arms to show off his guns.

Amused, I roll my eyes. “I’ll take it. Hard work keeps me out of trouble.”

Sam acknowledges with a nod. “Start tomorrow?”

“Give me a time and I’ll be here.”

His lips curve into a smile.“Thanks, Ian. I appreciate it.”

As Sam goes into the back once more, I go back to my seat. Savannah’s noticed my frequent visits here and she’s been civil to me. I can’t help but wonder how she’s going to take me working here. Somehow, I’ve got to find a way to forge a truce. It’s possible, though it might be uncomfortable, but I think she and I can get along for Sam’s sake. We’ve moved from open hostility to polite tolerance. I get the feeling it isn’t the level of friendship Sam would like us to have, but I think we can make it work so it’s easier on us all.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Savannah

When Sam told me Ian would temporarily be working at the bar, I bit my tongue. It isn’t like I hate the man. I don’t. I just have too little in common with him to forge a friendship. He’s single and handsome. I’m a working mom. His life revolves around him, and Gigi is the center of my world. I think Sam’s noted the tension. He waited to tell me till the end of my night. It just so happened I had a few days off and those days away from Mad Dog gave me some time to think and clear my head. Once you’ve lived through burying someone you love, there isn’t much that’ll rattle you.

“Momma, I help you knock?” Gigi’s question catches me with my knuckles about to kiss the wood of Sam’s front door. I give her a nod of approval as my hand drifts down to my side but, instead of her copying my gingerly touch, she pounds on the wood with a tiny, mallet-like fist.

The door opens, the entrance barely breached, and my daughter summons all her strength to rush through it. Sam jumps back but is completely unfazed. This is a natural occurrence for Gigi. She launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his legs in a vice grip as her head drops back. “I missed you soooo much!”

“I missed you, too, Chickadee!”

My heart melts at the sight of the two of them together. She scrunches her nose and her eyes pinch as she hugs him, while his eyes crinkle at the corners from a face-splitting smile.

Gigi’s face lights up as Sam reaches down, hooks both hands under her arms, and swings her high in the air. He lets go and, once she’s airborne, she squeals. Gravity finds her back in his arms and the result is gut-busting giggles. He repeats the aerobatics a few times then lowers her onto his hip. Now at his eye level, she busses his cheek and makes a disapproving face.

“You’s got sticky whispers.”

“Whiskers, honey,” I softly interject.

“Yeah, Momma.” She rubs her face. “Dem whispers is really pokey.”

Sam’s lip puckers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t normally shave on the weekend but, for you, I’ll go right in there and take them off.” He lowers her to the floor. “Be right back. You go get something to drink for both of you,” he says to me and then winks at Gigi. “I gotta make myself pretty for my best girl.”

It’s obvious Sam adores her and delights in the simplicity she brings to his life. Everything they do together is an adventure. It’s like, through her eyes, Sam sees everything for the first time.

“Bandit’s lying in the family room,” he calls out. I’m surprised she didn’t mosey in when she heard your voice.”

“Bye, Momma.”

All Sam had to say was Bandit’s name and Gigi tears off. Sam’s old Retriever is half-deaf and doesn’t see as well as she used to, but she has a gentle soul, and Gigi’s love for her surpasses almost everything else. The two of them return together, Bandit’s toenails making clickity-clack sounds on the floor as she walks beside her girl. Gigi hooks her fingers beneath the dog’s frayed, nylon collar, holding onto it like it’s a bridle. I watch as they go over to, what’s affectionately known as “Gigi’s Corner”. Once there, my daughter plops down on her butt, and the dog lowers herself to the floor beside her.

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