Page 7 of Filthy Hot

Well… then, I suppose I’m sold.

“There’s a bakery downtown. They have had a couple part-time positions…” His words trail off.

He knows I’m desperate, but he just doesn’t know why. I need money to live on. But a bakery job isn’t going to cut it. There’s no question about that. He also knows that working at a bar is going to be the most bang for my time. As long as your top is just a little too low-cut and your jeans are a little too tight, tips are usually abundant in places like this.

“I’ll be here.”

He winks. “Thought that’s what you’d say. Wine’s on the house. Consider it a sign-on bonus.”

I thank him, and he nods again, reminds me to be here at noon, and then turns and walks away to focus on his other patrons. Spinning around in my seat, I look out at the bar. There is a lot of movement for such a small area.

Not just movement around the floor itself, but men seem to keep going to the back hallway, and then different men come out of the same hallway, and what I notice the most… there are no women here.

Not a single one.

That’s odd.

I know that bars are usually frequented by men, but to not have a single woman at all… odd. Shaking my head, I decide to finish my wine, then ask where a motel is so I can get a room there with the little money I have left.

Hopefully, I can start working tomorrow and make enough tip money to pay for my room every night. That is the least I can hope for. The most I can hope for is that I’m able to stay here long enough to save for an apartment to rent.

It would be nice to have a home again. I once had an apartment in Arkansas. It took Xavier a little longer to find me there. I even had some secondhand furniture and everything. I loved it, and I cried when I was taken from there for several reasons, the biggest being that I was ripped from my first home.

Once I’m finished with my wine, I stand and walk over to the other side of the bar, where Sal is leaning and chatting with a man around his age. They’re laughing as I approach. Sal jerks his chin toward me, his eyes catching mine.

“Here’s the new girl who’s brave enough to be working the floor,” he says with a laugh.

The other gentleman lifts his hand and gives me a wave but doesn’t say anything. I smile and dip my chin toward him. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” I say, “but is there a motel within walking distance?”

Sal frowns. “Walking distance?” he asks.

“My car ran out of gas a few miles down the road. I was planning to get some in the morning and take it out there when it’s light. But for tonight, I thought I’d just walk to a motel.”

There is a moment of silence. Then Sal shakes his head a couple of times. “I’m sure you wouldn’t accept a ride from me, but I don’t want you walking out there alone. Pineville is safe, but still.”

“Maybe there’s an Uber or something?” I ask.

He snorts. “New age, shit,” Sal grumbles. “I’ll have one of the girls drive you. And while you wait, I’ll get the kitchen to make you something to eat.”

I open my mouth to ask him whatgirlbecause I’ve seen zero women, but I decide not to. Walking back to my seat at the bar, Isink down on the stool and set my duffel at my feet again. A few moments later, a plate of fried deliciousness is sitting in front of me.

“No salad’s here at Sal’s,” he announces. Then he chuckles. “That should be my slogan.”

“Thank you. It looks amazing,” I whisper.

He turns from me and goes about his business again. Tears well in the backs of my eyes. I try to blink them away, but a few escape. In all my years of life, a mere thirty, I’ve encountered kindness on the run, but nothing like this.

I feel, dare I even think…at home.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this sensation before, but it’s here, and I don’t want it to ever go away. I hope I don’t have to run from here. I think I’m really going to like it. I should have come to a small town all those years ago. Four years ago, when I ran.

Reaching for a French fry, I bring it to my lips and take a bite. It’s good, damn good. The chicken strips look amazing, too. I eat it all, every single bite. And by the time I’m finished, I am so full that all I want to do is take a nap.

“It’s fried in beef tallow. It’s what makes it so good,” Sal announces as he passes by me.

Beef tallow. My eyes widen. I didn’t know that was a thing. But I understand why they do it, because that was the best fried food I’ve ever had in my life, and I don’t usually eat much of it.

What feels like just seconds later, there is a tap on my shoulder. Looking behind me, I see a girl who can’t be more than twenty. She’s got bleached blonde hair, heavy makeup, and is wearing an oversized T-shirt with tight exercise shorts. She’s beautiful.

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