Page 10 of Sweet Whiskey
She steps closer, tugging at my collar so more of my cleavage is showing, then rolls the bottom of it until it’s resting right on my ribs. I suck in a breath, uncomfortable with how much skin I’m showing. Tracy raises an eyebrow, and I don’t say anything as she walks around me to stare at the jeans I have on.
“Can you squat in them? If they’re too tight to squat, you’ll have to change.”
Brielle scoffs. “You want her to give you a lap dance while she’s at it?”
Tracy smiles; it’s not a nice one as she turns to my best friend and pats her cheek. “Keep that spunk, girl. You’re gonna need it. Pretty thing like you, who reeks of money. The boys are gonna eat you alive and spit you right back out.”
Before Brielle can make another remark, I grab Tracy’s arm. “They’re tight, but stretchy. I can dance…if I need to.”
She stares back expectedly. “The bell rings, everyone dances. Them’s the rules, honey.”
I nod. “I’ll dance.”
Tracy smiles. “Good, because I promise the tips are worth it. People travel whole states to visit Sweet Whiskey.”
Brielle rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I bet they do, and not for the beer.”
She ignores Brielle’s comment, clapping her hands and telling us to follow her to the bar so she can show us the basics. “Anything with alcohol, leave for us. But if they want a pop or water,go ahead and pour it yourself. Ice is here. Stack the dirty cups here. Marley will usually piss me off by the end of the night and she’ll wash them.” Tracy looks at Brielle with a calculating gaze.
I lean toward my best friend. “I think you may be the new dishwasher if you don’t cool it with your sass.”
Brielle sniffs loudly, but doesn’t say anything as Tracy walks us through the table numbering. She points at some worn seats, describing which regulars usually occupy them. When she stops by the jukebox, she grins at us wickedly.
“As y’all saw last night, certain songs will set off the sweetheart dance.”
My eyebrows raise. “You mean when everyone was dancing on the bar top?”
She nods. “Yup. Way back when the owner opened this place, his sweetheart loved to dance, and every night put on a show for him specifically. We honor the tradition in a way.”
Brielle snorts. “I’m sure she wasn’t twerking back then.”
Tracy shakes her head. “You laugh now, but dance is a powerful tool for seduction and has been for centuries. Now we just do it for fun, letting loose.”
I smile. “More for ourselves instead of the men.”
She winks, snapping her fingers then pointing at me. “Exactly. Anywho, the songs change every night, so no one but me knows what will trigger the bells.”
“Can’t you just change the song at will then?” Brielle asks, her nose scrunching.
Tracy’s lips pull into a devilish grin, then she winks. “You get it. Maybe you’re not as bad as I assumed.”
My best friend barely refrains from rolling her eyes before Tracy continues, waving at us to show where the pool table chalk and racks are stored. “You’ll be able to pick out some regulars to avoid. The type of men whose leers are less than friendly. I tend to limit the dances those nights. My girls’ peace of mind is more important than tips, and while they enjoy dancing, they’re not to be touched inappropriately.”
Warmth spreads in my chest before I shift in place. “And it’s okay that we’re…omegas?” Besides the alpha at the front door, I noticed most of the staff are betas, at least from what I could tell. Heavy suppressants could have omegas mistaken as betas if they haven’t gone through heat recently.
Tracy pauses before facing us with a frown and her hands on her hips. “Look, we may be a small town, but we ain’t into all that shit, okay, honey? Omegas, betas, alphas…I don’t give a shit as long as you treat my staff and my customers with respect.”
Brielle crosses her arms, staring Tracy down defiantly. “Well, your bouncer sure had a lot to say.”
Tracy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jax has a history with omegas. Don’t mind him, but I’m sure his big mouth just vomited the wrong thing. He’s the biggest teddy bear.”
Wiping off the sweat gathering on the back of my neck, I turn to face the wall and give a small sniff to ensure my descentizer is stillworking. The scent-canceling spray is an extra precaution, given my suppressants should be enough, but better safe than sorry. I haven’t stopped moving since I started my shift, and I can feel how flushed my face is. Omegas can easily get overheated, but I don’t smell like distress, so I turn back to the bar, smiling widely as I walk past the men gathered around it, and head straight to my newly seated booth.
“What can I get for you?” I ask, a little breathless. I fan my face with my notepad for a second before glancing up and freezing. The men seated are some of the most gorgeous alphas I’ve ever seen. My stomach contracts and I pray I don’t slick at the sight of them. My eyes stray to Colt and stay there, the familiarity grounding me.
“Hi,” I say meekly.
His lips quirk in the corner. “Hi. I didn’t think tonight would be your first night.”
