Page 3 of Happy Endings

“Speaking of crying over something delicious, there’s a tall drink of water working the bar tonight.” Reina looked past Trixie and cocked her head. “Boy, am I thirsty.”

“Reina,” Trixie warned as she fought the urge to turn around. “I’m supposed to be working. Not checking out bartenders.”

“Doesn’t hurt to admire the scenery.” Reina grinned. “Hot damn, his biceps are spectacular. I wanna lick every inch of his dark brown—”

Trixie couldn’t stand it. She shot a glance behind her, trying not to be too obvious.

“Oh my God!” She turned back around. The hair elastic shot out of her hand and hula-hooped around the Glo-Man. She hunched over her plate of chicken and waffles, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Trixie, are you all right? I’m sorry. I’m messing up your flow before your presentation.” Reina gently touched Trixie’s arm. “I’ll behave.”

“He’s not just any bartender.” Trixie’s chest tightened and her heart raced. She’d never expected to see him again. Not after he ghosted her in New Orleans two years earlier.

“Hey, do you know him? Spill the beans.”

“Andre,” Trixie whispered. “That’s Andre Walker.”

“The jerk from New Orleans who dumped you with a Post-it note?”

“After almost two years together,” Trixie scoffed. She wasn’t just mad because of how he broke up with her. He’d left her after her family had kicked her out. He’d abandoned her when she had nowhere else to turn. When she needed his strength the most.

Wait, Keisha’s last name was also Walker. She didn’t talk about her sibling much except to say that he’d become a helicopter brother since their mother died. Her brother “Tre” must have been Andre. They had the same eyes. How could Trixie be so clueless?

“No one dumps a Boss Babe with a note. Especially a Post-it.” Reina’s green eyes flared with anger. She set down her fork and pushed back her chair. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t cause a scene,” Trixie hissed. “Please? I’m working.”

She didn’t need Reina to start an argument with the co-owner of the restaurant, especially when he was her ex-boyfriend. Trixie had bachelorette party guests to entertain and vibrators to sell.

“Fine. Once the party is over, I’m headed straight to the bar.” Reina tilted her head. “Do you think knocking him in the head with the Glo-Man counts as assault with a deadly weapon?”

“You are not allowed to break him!” Trixie’s lips pressed together as she snuck another glance at Andre, who looked even more handsome than she remembered. “Glo-Man’s one of my top sellers.”

Chapter 2

There are dildos on the table?” Andre glared at his sister.

“Ding, ding! My big bro is so smart.” Keisha grinned. “I had no idea they came in so many colors. I mean, besides the obvious skin tones.”

“Keisha,” he growled, keeping his voice low so the customers couldn’t hear him. “You said bachelorette party. Not...sexparty!”

“Relax, Tre. It’s a sextoyparty. Any sex will happen off premises—after the party.”

He grimaced.

“Sorry, I meant to say ‘Andre.’ I know you’re not going by ‘Tre’ anymore.”

“It’s fine.” Andre had given up on his sister and the neighborhood seeing him as anything besides little Tre, the third in his family to carry his name. What he didn’t want to do was talk about sex with his sister. “A heads-up would have been nice.”

“If I’d told you, would you have turned down thirty-five dollars a head plus a cash bar?” She waved her arm toward the thirty or so women sitting in the dining room.

Andre did the mental math. With the per-person rate and all the cocktails he had already served, they were going to pull in more than any recent Friday night service. Though their inheritance was the restaurant itself, his mom had left them with enough savings to reinvest into Mama Hazel’s. Installing a bar and fighting the city’s red tape for a liquor license had been worth the hassle.

He hated when his sister was right. At least it meant her accounting classes at the community college were paying off.

“Pay attention. Might learn a thing or two.” Keisha picked up the tray of buttery nipple shots that he had made and stepped back from the bar.

Before he could respond, she walked off to deliver the drinks to table five. Andre wiped down the perfectly clean counter where Keisha had set down her serving tray. He wasn’t naïve enough to think his sister didn’t have sex. She was twenty-six and never lacked for a date. If only he could wipe the sex toy conversation from his brain. Which was not going to happen for the next two hours.

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