Page 8 of Ky
CHAPTER FOUR
Chris
I had to be honest, I loved running the club bar. Maybe it was just that I was meant to do something like this. Hell, who was I to argue? It wasn’t necessarily an easy job, but I wasn’t looking for easy. The thing that I loved the most was that I got to hang out with guys that were my friends every single fucking time I worked. And even I had to admit that most of them weren’t hard to look at. Yes, maybe I did have a few that I thought of when I wasn’t working. More like, when I was hard and in my shower. But a boy never tells, so don’t even think of asking.
Sure there were times like right now, when things proved to be difficult. But I just rolled with it and handled it the best that I could.
“What is this?” I asked the delivery guy as he looked like he was packing up and pulling out the slip for me to sign.
“Um, that’s it. See right here. Twelve cases,” he said pointing with his pen to the individualized invoice.
I looked over it, brows furrowed and a frown tugging at my lips. This was not the order. I knew that because I was the one that had put it in. But it was clear right there in black and white that I was only getting what was in front of me.
“I need to check the order, because there should be about triple this,” I said not making a move to grab the pen and sign off on the thing.
I motioned for him to follow me. Once we were in the office, I pulled up the order and showed him that what I had received was indeed wrong.
“Sorry, man. This is what my paper says and that’s all I’ve got for you. If there’s a problem, you need to call.” He didn’t sound at all sympathetic or sorry.
As much as this put a crick in my day, I couldn’t take it out on the guy, it wasn’t his fault. But there was no way I was going to sign the okay on that invoice and I told him so.
“Look, can you just sign it and make a note at the bottom that it was wrong from your order? I just need proof that you receivedthesecases.”
“Fucking hell,” I mumbled under my breath and grabbed the pen from him and scribbled something that was halfway legible.
“Thanks, man,” he said then headed out the back.
Forty-five minutes later, I was finally hanging up the phone and had it all taken care of. It’d be another two days before I got the rest of the shipment but I figured that we had enough to get through until then. If we didn’t, I knew the clubhouse was always stocked. I was sure that Iron would let me borrow from there if I needed. I figured now was a good time as any to let him know what was going on. He left me alone to run the place for the most part but out of respect to him and the club, I always let him know when there was something going on.
Noting the time, I figured I’d find him at the garage, so I headed over there first. Since my shift was minutes from being over and there was someone out handling the bar, I didn’t worry about taking off a few minutes early. I mean, technically I was still dealing with work stuff.
“Hey, Ky,” I said as I ducked under the half-open bay door at the far end. The one that was pretty much Ky’s for his restorations.
“Oh, fuck, man. You scared me,” he said barely making eye contact with me.
My eyes narrowed at him. I studied him for a long moment trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him.
Something was definitely still up, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out. It had been over two weeks since the strip and I hadn’t seen much of him. He seemed to have been hiding away, or at least not coming out when I was around. I was sure it was me that he was keeping his distance from. Whatever was going on with him had something to do with me because though I hadn’t seen much of him, he’d been around enough for me to notice that he didn’t clam up around anyone else.
But whatever, I didn’t have time to deal with it right then. So I had no choice but to shrug it off and focus on why I’d come over here.
“Iron around?” I asked, pinning him with a hard stare. Yeah, clearly the whole thing bugged the fuck out of me. I wanted to fix whatever it was but I didn’t even know where to begin.
“He just headed to the clubhouse. He’s probably up in his office.” He didn’t stop working as he spoke. I knew I could go back there, so I didn’t really need to say anything else.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and made my way back out of the garage and through the line of trees to the clubhouse.
I made it up to Iron’s office on the top floor with hesitant, but heavy steps. If there was club stuff going on up there then I didn’t want to be part of it, so I figured it was best to be cautious and loud.
“Iron,” I called out as a way of announcing my presence and not have it be awkward.
“In the office, Chris,” he yelled back.
“Hey,” I said stepping into the room. He sat there, papers spread out in front of him, a pen tucked behind his ear and his hair a little messed up around the rolled up bandanna he had tied around his head. “Just wanted to give you a heads up that the delivery was short today. I called and took care of it, but it’s going to take a few days to get the rest of the order here.”
“Shit,” he said as his hand came up to tuck his long hair behind his ear. “Alright. There should be enough downstairs to cover if you need it. If it looks like you’re getting low, let me know. I’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks, Iron.”
