Her Dirty Bartenders (Men at Work #5) - Mika Lane Page 0,11

ya,” she called, running for the door.

“Well if it isn’t Denver’s Most Eligible Bachelor,” I called to Maze, knowing it would bug the shit out of him.

He scowled like I knew he would. “Keep it down, Rob. The last thing I need is for everyone to find out about that stupid shit.”

Laughing, I clapped him on the back. “Dude, everyone already knows. What’s the problem? Think of all the pussy you’re gonna get. And it’s great for the club.”

“Well. There is that.”

He started making a nasty looking muddled cocktail that a girl at the end of the bar had ordered. And that wasn’t all she wanted.

She was practically drooling watching him make it.

“I hate making these drinks,” he muttered.

Seriously. You’d think charging twenty-plus dollars for them would put people off. But when something was ‘in,’ people would pay whatever it took.

“So who is the private party for tonight?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s being hosted by that Grant guy. But I don’t like it. He’s bad news. Fights always break out when he and his posse are here. I’m just waiting to hear gunfire someday. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He walked to the end of the bar to deliver the muddled cocktail, and while he was getting the woman’s credit card, she ran her hand up his arm, muttering something about his tattoos.

Maze was not a fan of that shit. He could be pretty cranky. Actually, he was cranky most every day of his life.

“Why does Deb keep letting them book the Playroom if they’re nothing but trouble?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I think she’s afraid to say no.”

“Hey, don’t look now, but Annabel is working tonight,” I said, gesturing discreetly.

Maze slammed the cash drawer, catching his finger, and responding with a loud fuck. “Yeah. I know. I saw the schedule.”

Keeping her eyes on Maze from across the room, Annabel tied on her waiter’s apron and twisted her hair into a high ponytail. I had to hand it to her. She might be a psycho, but she was beautiful.

And she sure did have a thing for Maze.

It bordered on obsession. And I don’t know if she was aware or not, but she was inches away from getting fired. She’d harassed him too many times.

“She still bothering you, man?” I asked.

He avoided looking in her direction. “Yeah. When I came out of the gym the other day, there was another note on my car.”

Shit.

Maze wiped his hands on a bar towel and looked around. “You know what? It’s not too busy yet. Let me go up to the office to continue working on the schedule. Buzz me if you need anything.”

“Sure thing, man. Hey, one thing before you go.”

He turned to face me. “What’s up?”

“I may have to leave early tomorrow to get Jax. His mother is doing everything she can to make my life as difficult as possible.”

“No problem. How’s all that going?”

My mood brightened again. The little bugger had that effect on me. “The baby is awesome. His mother is not.”

That about summed it up.

Jax’s mother Elise had arranged for her mother to babysit most days when she and I had to work. But every now and then, Elise’s mom was unavailable, and I would take him since I had the more flexible schedule. But it always happened at the last minute, and on the club’s busiest days of the week.

A coincidence?

Doubt it.

“Well good luck with that drama,” Maze said.

Yeah, thanks.

8

Robbie

Contrary to expectations, the night had not been busy, and as a result, it just crept by. I preferred being swamped. It made the time go by faster. And it was more lucrative.

And because it had been on the slow side, Maze spent the entire night up in the office, doing paperwork. I couldn’t blame him. He needed to steer clear of Annabel.

And, less than twelve hours later, I was back at the helm, having come in early so I could leave early to get my kid.

“Excuse me. I’m here about a job. As a barback.”

Awesome. I turned around to welcome the person I figured was Marni’s friend—

Holy shit.

Was this a joke?

“Oh my god,” she said.

Oh my god was right. Shit, shit, shit.

Narrowing her eyes, she pointed a finger at me. “You’re the guy who smashed my car the other day. And if that’s not bad enough, now you’re denying it was your fault.”

“Are… are you Marni’s friend?”

No way. There was just no way Marni’s friend was the woman whose car I’d rear-ended.

“I sure am. And