Page 5 of Forgotten Pieces

Trace shakes his head at me. “You are the worst kind of trouble, Calloway.”

“I ain’t sayin’ they’re all for me,” I say with a southern flourish, hand coming to my chest.

“Well now that your southern accent has made a reappearance, I don’t think I can serve you. How many of those martinis have you had? Also, who the hell served you a martini at my bar?”

“Why that cute, young gentleman over there,” I point to the bartender at the other end of the bar who looks to be around my age. He looks up at me and I give him a little wave with my fingers.

Laney laughs next to me as Trace answers, “You stay away from Johnnie. He is new. And he is a hard worker. I know how you are, Calloway, and I can’t deal with any brokenhearted bartenders.”

I laugh and lean over the bar a bit. “Well then, I guess you will just need to pour me those shots.”

Trace shakes his head as he lines up six shot glasses and pours top shelf tequila into them. “One of these better be for me since I know you plan on causin’ trouble tonight.”

“She started it,” I say as I point to Laney.

“Girl, don’t drag me into this. You were the one askin’ ‘bout trouble.”

I grab the shots from Trace and put two in front of Laney and two in front of me. “Those are for you Trace.”

“Now you’re tryin’ to get me into trouble. Ivy ain’t gonna be too happy.”

“Your wife will be thanking me when you get home buzzed and horny.”

He laughs at me. “You know I don’t need to be buzzed and horny to have my pregnant wife want to jump me.”

“Good to know at your old age you can still get it up for her without a blue pill.”

He throws a wet rag at me, hitting me right in the face, then holds up the two shot glasses. “Double trouble!”

I laugh as he uses my old cheers slogan from high school. The three of us knock all six shot glasses together and down them one after the other.

“Well, I think it’s time to get this party started!” I yell.

Laney jumps out of her seat. “I’ll go put all the good songs on the jukebox.”

Trace rolls his eyes. “Why do I let the two of you hang out in my bar together?”

“Because you love us like annoying little sisters.”

“Unfortunately,” he mumbles and starts to turn away.

“Oh Tracey,” I sing-song. He hates when I call him that.

“What do you want Calloway?”

I smirk at him, knowing he’s going to hate this. But I also know he won’t say no. “A job.”

“Hell no.”

“Oh come on. You know I’m the best bartender. And I was a bar manager in a high scale piano bar back in New York. And I have a hospitality management degree.”

He just stares at me with dead eyes. “No.”

“Please, I won’t be here long. It’ll be temporary. And you know you’re always busy in the summer.”

“Why does this sound like a bad idea?”

I turn on the puppy dog eyes. “Please, Dick Tracey?”

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