Page 68 of A Ryan Recollection

“Fourth of July,” he finishes for her, smacking her on the ass before he walks to the dinner table.

ChapterThree

JESSIE

4 days to Christmas

Conor frowns as he listens to whoever is talking on the other end of his cell phone.

“You’ve tried everyone?” he asks with a sigh. “For fuck’s sake, isn’t this why I pay you, Bianca? To manage?”

A few seconds later, he says. “Leave it with me,” before ending the call.

“Problem?” Shane asks.

“Apparently half of the bar staff have some kind of stomach bug meaning we are seriously short staffed. It’s Christmas week and the place is going to be busting at the seams with no fucker to serve them.”

“I could work the bar,” I suggest.

“No,” Conor snaps.

“What?” I ask with a frown. “I’ve worked in bars for years. I know what I’m doing. At least it’s one more body down there.”

“Maybe I don’t want your body down there,” Conor says making Shane chuckle.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be perfectly safe. It’s your club. One of you can even come be my bodyguard for the night.”

“I’ll watch her,” Shane offers.

“If she’s going to work in our club, don’t you think I should watch her?”

“No, because you will snarl at every guy she serves and end up throat punching half of them,” Shane replies.

“True,” I say with a smile.

“And you won’t?” Conor challenges him.

“Anyone makes a pass at her and they’ll get a punch in the mouth, but asking her for a drink I can handle.”

“So, it’s settled then. Tell Bianca I’ll help out. I’ll start at ten and stay until they need me.”

Conor frowns as he considers my request.

“All hell will break loose down there if people can’t get their beer,” Shane says. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Fine,” Conor grunts as he calls the manager of our nightclub back.

“Thank you,” I whisper to Shane who winks at me.

I’m actually looking forward to a night behind the bar. I always loved working in them when I was younger. I love drunk people. I love the club. I love Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Closing the cash register,I turn back to the sea of faces waiting to be served at the bar. I’ve been down here for three hours now and the club just keeps getting busier and busier. I, along with the other bar staff, have been working flat out to keep up with the rush.

I love it though. The music. The buzz of it all.

“Jessie? Jessie Heaton is that you?” A voice that sounds vaguely familiar shouts loudly. Turning to face the direction of the noise, I see a guy with a dark goatee wearing a Santa hat.

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