Page 2 of The Gentleness of Rage

“Ain’t we the lucky bastards,” Slate complained.

A brunette sitting on a stool cocked her head at their exchange, looking intrigued. Somehow, in this crush, she’d managed to get a seat, Slate noticed.

“Can’t even free Alexa up to help serve because she’s needed on the floor. Dulcie can’t cope on her own,” Slate grumbled.

“Those bitches are fired,” Shotgun griped.

Alexa strutted over and shoved through the crowd. “Four beers and two vodkas.”

“Gonna be ten minutes,” Slate replied, stressed.

The brunette faced Alexa and said something. Alexa looked surprised but nodded. The next thing, Alexa walked behind the bar and filled the order. The stranger grabbed the tray and headed out.

“What the fuck?” Shotgun muttered to Alexa.

“She offered to help, can’t say no. Look at this place,” Alexa retorted.

Slate lost sight of the pretty woman for a few minutes as he served drinks, and Alexa helped get the crush at the bar under control.

The girl popped back up. “I need two Jack Daniels, two beers, and four shots of tequila,” she announced.

“Who the hell are you?” Slate demanded, not getting her order.

“My name’s Jaelynn. I’ve done bartending in the past, but didn’t think you’d want me behind there. I thought I’d help you out with the orders and glass clearing,” she answered.

“In return for what?” Slate replied suspiciously.

“Nothing. Ain’t you heard of a helping hand? Can I have my order? Huh, your name’s Slate. That’s kind of funny,” she remarked and rattled her tray.

Slate kept an eye on her as he made the drinks and placed it on her tray. Why was his name amusing?

Jaelynn disappeared and returned on his left carrying a tray full of empties, which she took into the kitchen.

Slate hated to admit it, but thanks to Jaelynn, Alexa and Dulcie had managed to get a break. Jaelynn worked five hours and had her own fifteen-minute rest before Hunter began tossing patrons out at closing time.

Jaelynn grinned at the girls and then pulled out a wad of notes. To Slate’s surprise, she placed them in the tip jar and headed for the exit.

He hurried out after her, but by the time he reached the door where Hunter was tussling with a patron, Jaelynn had disappeared.

Had that really just happened? Jaelynn had worked a five-hour shift and not taken any sort of payment? And then handed over her tips for the girls? Slate searched the car lot for her, but she’d gone.

Shit, he’d not even said thanks. He looked around once more and palmed the back of his neck. Who the hell was she?

Saturday

Slate glared at the three women in front of him. None of them looked repentant, and Mac stood there with his arms folded. Pirate, Mac’s Macaw, sat on his shoulder, giving the ladies a beady eye too.

“We were sick!” Hailee insisted. Skylar and Ariel both nodded their heads, too.

“The same evening that concert happened, one that you’d all requested the day off for and had been denied?” Mac snapped.

“We had food poisoning,” Skylar replied.

“Do you really think we’re that stupid?” Slate demanded.

Hailee shrugged, and Slate’s temper rocketed. Not as quickly as Mac’s, though.

“Get your shit, you’re done,” he ordered.

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