getting a job. All week, he’d been entirely against me working, making me so busy with his sibling bonding agenda that I didn’t even have time to fill out applications. I worried that his determination to keep me at home was some sort of power play. Some men didn’t like an independent woman, they wanted the people in their lives to rely so heavily on them that they didn’t have a choice but to stay. I didn’t want to believe that about Lance, but the thought still crossed my mind any chance it got.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Decker was the one to convince Lance to let me work. Although he was an asshole, he understood my thought processes. Decker might have called me lazy at breakfast, but something told me he was just saying that to press the wound in my chest. Decker wanted to make it bleed so he could examine it, not to actually inflict any damage. I also got the sense that he understood my need for independence—my need to not rely on anyone else—and I liked that.
There was something about Decker Harris that got under my skin. He was persistent and observant. I didn’t understand if it was out of some duty to his best friend or if he took on projects like me regularly. Regardless, my life leading up to this point made me chronically suspicious. It would take more than a handsome face and a job before I trusted him. He might have been determined to figure me out, but I was just as determined to shy away. I rarely trusted people, and I had no intention of putting my faith in him until I figured out his intentions.
The restaurant looked more like a bar than a barbecue place. When I walked up to the front door, loud music was reverberating from the inside, making the windows shake. It was only noon on a Saturday, but already the career alcoholics lined the bar, joking and watching the flat screens.
The name Huck-a-poos BBQ in bold red letters was painted on the brick near the front entrance. I took a moment to stare through the window, noting the short shorts and tight tank tops that the waitresses wore. Looking down at my own outfit, I realized that this place wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Did Decker regularly go here? Did he know what I’d be wearing? A couple of guys speaking loudly and patting each other on the back shoved past me before opening the door to go inside. I decided to swallow my reservations and follow behind them.
The location was ideal, and waitressing jobs typically had good tips. Not to mention the place was busy, which meant lots of opportunity for work.
Clasping my fingers in front of me, I walked up to the hostess station where a blonde with smeared black eyeliner was standing. She was beautiful. Her tight tank top, which boasted the restaurant’s name, looked stretched thin across her large breasts. Smacking her gum, she looked me up and down before speaking. “Table for one?” she asked, albeit condescendingly. “We also have open seating at the bar, though I’ll need to see your ID.”
I started fishing around my pockets, trying to find the scrap of paper with the woman’s name that Decker said would give me the job. Pulling it out, I read the scrawled script, then spoke. “I’m here to see Rose?” I hated how uncertain I sounded. Usually, any jobs I got were based on my own merits. I never had anyone else do the initial leg work for me. “A friend of mine said she had a job for me?”
The girl looked me up and down once more, her eyes lingering on my breasts and face. “I’ll take you back to see Rose. But you should probably put on some makeup first. Pretty girls get pretty good tips if you know what I’m saying.” She accentuated her point with a wink before nodding at someone else to take over the hostess stand. “Follow me,” she added before walking down the hall.
Rows of tables with tourists lined either side as a football game played on the flat screens lining the wall. The lunch crowd was cheering for their favorite teams while waitresses sauntered around them. The decor of the place was rustic and warm, with oxidized signs filling every wall, carved initials in the tables, and spilled beer on the floor. The place was loud, and waitresses carrying