Page 27 of Made in Malice

“You ever work the bar? Wait, how old are you?” he questions.

“No, twenty.”

“You’re hired. You know how to pull a draft, don’t ya?”

“I think I can manage.” I smile.

“Hop on back here and give me something pretty to look at.”

“Hey!” someone gripes from farther down the bar, but I don’t know who.

I hesitate, unsure if he really means it, but when he glances over at me again, then at the bar, I know he’s not joking. I shove my sleeves up, noting I’m not dressed to be working behind a bar, but wash up anyway.

“I need two Blue Moons and four house pours,” Mickey shouts and resumes slinging bottles.

Finding the beer cooler for the bottles of Blue Moon is easy, but it takes me a second to read all the draft levers to find the right one.

As soon as I’m finished, Mickey lifts one of the glasses to his lips and drains the pint with a few gulps. “Perfect, I think you’ll do. Give these to the ugly bastard down at the end.”

My eyes immediately go to the end of the bar and scan the people sitting there. “Who?” I ask quietly, making Mickey chuckle.

“Jimmy!” he hollers, and a man turns his head to look in our direction. “That’d be him.”

The guy is not even close to ugly. His blond hair is thick and wavy on top but cut short on the sides, highlighting his dark eyes. His neatly kept short beard suits him well, he looks like he may be in his late twenties, but he could be a few years older. Now if Mickey would have said mean instead of ugly, he would have led me right to Jimmy. I gather the drinks up and walk them down to the end of the bar, placing them in front of the waiting man.

“Who are you?” he questions.

“Nova.”

“Only Nova I know is a 1969 two door.” His eyes roam over me without shame, and a flush colors my cheeks. I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered by his perusal, because his tone doesn’t give much away.

“You better not be giving her a hard time, Jimmy. I’ll boot your ass out of here.”

“I own the place, old man,” Jimmy snarls and shoves a bill across the counter for me to take.

“I don’t give a shit. Ignore him and come on down here and give me a hand, darlin’.” This place may be good for my wallet and self-esteem, but it might threaten my sanity. The next hour passes quickly. I spend most of that time being backup for Mickey, but we manage to discuss which days and hours work best for me before he sends me packing for the night with a thick wad of bills in my pocket.

I end up avoiding Jimmy for the most part. He was actually seated at a booth in the corner of the bar with a few other men, but I felt his eyes on me too often, or maybe it was my eyes that strayed to him too often.

Being in the packed bar made it easy to forget about all my issues at the house and school, but when I step out into the evening humidity, all those worries come flooding back. As I walk the few blocks to my car, I pull my phone out to check the time, only now realizing I have a few missed calls and texts.

The number is unknown, but it doesn’t take more than a glance to understand the demands to know where I am are coming from Alden. I send off a quick reply to the final message that only came about twenty minutes ago.

Me: Went into town to grab some supplies. On my way back now.

The return text bubble pops up almost as soon as I hit enter, but my phone starts ringing a second later. “Dang it. Hello?” I only let him hear the greeting.

“You’re supposed to tell me when you leave the island.” His voice is deep and deceptively calm.

“Really? I thought all that was squashed. Astrid agreed I didn’t need an escort.” I play dumb, then hit the unlock button for the car since I can see it parked at the curb a few cars down.

“Nova,” a masculine voice says from just over my shoulder. I turn on instinct and come face to chest with Jimmy.

“Yeah?” I’m a little breathless as I step back to look up at him, but he did startle me. I shouldn’t be talking on the phone while walking. I’m clearly too distracted.

“Whom are you talking to?” Alden demands.

“Mickey said he forgot to give you this for your shift.” Jimmy holds out a bundle of folded T-shirts for me to take.

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