Page 34 of Blood of the Sirens
Javi dabbed a bit of highlight under my eye, then booped my nose with it. “Exactly. So smile, and let’s go.”
I didn’t seeMerrick much as Javi and I bustled around to get ready. I restocked condiments and set the tables, and he lit the candles and did a quick vacuuming, while ensuring the bar was properly stocked.
We finished with ten minutes to spare, and loitered by the main ramp.
“You look constipated. Smile.” Javi admonished me through his own cheesy grin. My own customer service smile stiffened, and twisted into more of a grimace.
“I’m worried,” I snarled back.
Then the first group of men arrived, looking like poster boys for snooty privilege in their button downs and khaki shorts. I shot Javi a look, but he was already bobbing forward to ask for drink orders.
Urgh.
There ended up being about two dozen of them, which wasn’t a lot, but it didn’t feel like it. They were loud, drunk, and very grabby. Javi seemed to think it a game to flirt with them without them picking up on it, so I let him to it and stayed away, mostly behind the bar and expedited food. I didn’t see Merrick, who was likely being kept outside by Mike, doing the harder physical stuff.
I felt better knowing he was at least nearby, though.
“This is an odd group for sure,” Javi remarked during a break, both of us leaning against the wall behind a bar to study them.
“Normal young idiots, but weird. They all have a mild accent that I can’t place. They’re drunk, but struggle to even hold the glasses and keep spilling everything. It’s bizarre.”
I frowned. That was … familiar.
“Diverse group for sure, but they all act like they know each other,” Javi huffed. “I get a bad vibe. I think you have the right idea staying here. They keep asking for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“As if,” I chastised him.
“They’re drunk enough that I don’t think they’d care whose ass they grab. Even if it isn’t mine.” Javi pouted, his lower lip hanging out.
I punched his shoulder. “Shut up. You love a challenge.”
He scowled. “Not this one. They’re practically babies. And stupid ones who can’t hold their drink, at that.”
I snorted and got to work on his orders. He took up the first few, wobbling dangerously with such a heavy tray as he went up the steps and faced the open air.
“Easy if you come up, it’s windy as fuck up here,” he called back.
I got the second tray ready and waited for him to come back. And waited.
And waited.
Perhaps Javi had found someone to chat up among the group. The thought made me grin, but it was quickly wiped away by the realization I’d have to take the second round up myself.
Boo.
Well, best to do it quickly and get it over with. I hefted the tray carefully and slowly made my way up the steps to the upper desk. I could hear the wind before I felt it and kept a firm hand on the tray. I ensured my footing before I took the next step.
When I reached the top, I scanned the crowd. Javi was indeed chatting up a dark-haired twenty-something. I took the last step up, spotting Merrick across the boat one level down near the prow, face screwed in concentration as he fumbled with some rope.
My foot caught the lip of the top step. I was too distracted as I watched the muscles in his forearm bunch and contract.
Fuck.
A strong gust of air aided my fall, catching the underside of my large tray and pushing me forward.
I smashed face first onto the floor of the deck, glass shattering all around me. Alcohol soaked me from head to toe, and every eye turned to me.
