Her Dirty Bartenders (Men at Work #5) - Mika Lane Page 0,27

can see you’re a nice person. And I appreciate how hard you’ve been working for Tableau. This bar has never been so spick-and-span. I feel like calling the health inspectors just to show the place off.”

I produced a small laugh.

She did not respond.

I reached into my pocket. “So, I’m just going to give you cash for the car repair. If insurance pays up, fine, but at least for now, you’re whole.” I placed a wad of hundreds in her hand.

“I hope three grand is enough. If it’s not, please let me know. And again, I apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused you.”

There, I’d done it. And it felt good.

Closed chapter.

But you’d think she’d just won the damn lottery.

She looked down at her open palm, holding thirty rolled up Benjamins wrapped with a thick rubber band.

“Uh…” She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Damn. I knew she’d appreciate it but hadn’t anticipated how much.

Guess I’d done a good thing.

“Uh…” she tried again. Her bottom lip quivered, followed by her upper lip. Then her whole mouth distorted and she covered her face with both hands.

“Oh my god,” she wailed.

We caught the attention of only a couple customers, who smiled and returned to their drinks.

“Stell,” I whispered. “Pull yourself together.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been going through,” she wept. “It’s… it’s all been so haaard.”

She looked up at me, her beautiful brown eyes bloodshot, her nose running. She hiccupped and reached for a napkin to wipe her nose, bawling for another five minutes while I rubbed her arm.

Sniffling, she cleared her throat and shook her shoulders. “Okay. I’m fine now. Thank you, Robbie. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I am shocked. Completely.”

Jesus, was I that big of an asshole?

“It’s going to be all right, Stell.”

That was the only thing I could think to say.

“Thank you, Robbie. I appreciate it. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to show you were a nice person earlier.”

She had good reason not to.

The place was getting busy, and psycho Annabel waited at the end of the bar to pick up some drinks.

“Let’s get back to work now, okay?”

“Just one more thing, Robbie,” she said, taking a step toward me.

“What?”

“Can we keep this between us?” she asked quietly. “The money thing?”

“Um, sure, I guess. I wasn’t going to broadcast it anyway.”

She held up a finger. “Thanks. I don’t want anyone to know you paid me. Then they’ll expect me to continue on toward LA. And I don’t want to leave Denver yet.”

Is that all she wanted? Something about that news made me happy. Very happy.

“Well, I know we’d like for you to stay on as long as you can.”

She smiled. She actually smiled. “So this can be our secret?”

Now that we were both in better moods, I was ready to try having a little fun.

I shrugged. “Depends. What’s it worth to you?”

19

Robbie

What a relief it was to know that Stell no longer wanted to chop me into pieces. And even better, we worked in perfect unison all evening. I didn't have to ask her for a thing. She anticipated every need, and took care of things before I’d even noticed something needed to be done.

If only every barback could be like that. But I knew better. Like she’d told me, eventually, she’d hit the road and we’d be back to hiring mediocre slackers who half the time didn’t bother showing up.

I glanced over at her, polishing glasses. She often hummed when she did, but for some reason she was staring into the crowd, frowning.

I followed her gaze to see what she was looking at.

Shit. Jax’s baby momma was headed right for me at full speed.

“Here,” she said, thrusting Jax at me over the bar. I set a glass and cocktail shaker down just in time to catch him.

What the?

There I was, behind the bar at Tableau, holding my baby.

Not only was that all kinds of inappropriate, it was also all kinds of illegal.

“Elise, what is going on?” I asked as Jax began to wail.

She stuck her chin out. “I’m going out with the girls tonight. You can watch Jax.”

And she was gone.

Holy hell. She must have completely lost her marbles.

I looked around in a panic, half my customers wrinkling their noses in distaste and the other half cooing over a cute baby.

“Stell. Help,” I called.

But she was already on her way over. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him up to the office. Can you manage without me?”

Dear god, she was an angel. “Yes. Here’s