From This Moment On - By Debbi Rawlins Page 0,37
voice rising above the boisterous laughter from the back room crowd, and saw her boss motioning that she needed her. Nikki had been idly chatting with Chip and another cowboy while she cleared off a table, so she grabbed the last two dirty glasses and headed to the far end of the bar where Sadie waited for her.
“I can’t figure out why it’s so slow tonight,” Sadie said, glancing around the room.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Huh. Most of the hands got paid two days ago. Can’t tell me they’ve already gone through their paychecks.”
Nikki leaned on the bar, studying Sadie. Her comment was odd enough, but to call Nikki over for that? Maybe the phone call she’d gotten a while ago had something to do with her strange mood. On the first ring Sadie started grumbling like she always did, swearing to disconnect service because it was a waste of money and she was tired of passing on messages from angry wives. But she hadn’t yelled for anyone to get home before they had to sleep in the barn.
Maybe she’d heard from her daughter. They didn’t speak often, but the one time Mariah had called while Nikki was working, Sadie had gotten depressed after hanging up. Part of her wanted to ask if Sadie needed to talk, but the gesture didn’t come naturally. Nikki hated people butting into her life so she tried to stay out of theirs.
And today probably wasn’t the time to change her ways.
Turned out everything had sucked, from getting up early to the reminder that Trace was exactly the kind of guy she’d feared. He was a player. Guys like him used to be exciting to her, a challenge she couldn’t resist. No more.
Okay, the thrill hadn’t disappeared, but she needed to work at tamping down her attraction. She’d been bitten twice already by hooking up with guys who had more charm than substance. That was enough. At least she’d had the sense to cancel her riding lesson. The consolation was so tiny she wanted to scream.
“Um, Sadie, did you want something?” she asked when it seemed as if nothing more would be said. “You know, when you called me over?”
“Oh, right.” Sadie waved an acknowledgment when a customer yelled they needed beer in the back. “Why don’t you go on home? No need to stick around when it’s this slow.”
“It’s really not that bad. Everyone’s drinking steady.” Nikki didn’t get it. What was going on? They’d been less busy quite a few nights and Sadie had never suggested she go home. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Sadie reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ve been a godsend. Don’t go thinking that way. I just don’t see the point in us both hanging around on a night when it’s a one-person job.”
“But I don’t mind. I—”
“I don’t wanna hear any more about it,” Sadie said, shaking her head and coming out from behind the bar.
“I can check the back first, see who needs beer.”
“Would you just go on?” Sadie could be impatient and irritable with customers, but she’d never used that annoyed tone with Nikki.
“I have five open tabs sitting beside the register. I can close them out before I leave if you—”
“We’re getting thirsty back here,” one of the pool players yelled loud enough to be heard at Abe’s Variety down the street.
Sadie craned her neck to see who it was, then hollered, “Keep your pants on, Leo.” She turned back to Nikki. “I’ve been doing this a long time, honey, I’ll figure it out. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to set aside your tips.”
“I’m not worried about that.” Feeling like a kid who’d just been suspended from school, Nikki watched her amble toward the back. Except she hadn’t done anything bad. If there had been a complaint about her...
A sudden thought struck as Nikki crouched to grab her keys from the shelf under the cash register. Maybe Sadie needed the money. The tips weren’t great tonight, but working alone could amount to a nice chunk of change. If that was the case, Nikki was glad to leave the business to Sadie. She dug into her pocket for the tips she’d collected earlier. It was only twenty bucks or so, but it could help. She made sure Sadie wasn’t in view, then stuffed the bills into the older woman’s tip jar sitting on the rear counter.
On the way out, customers ragged on her about leaving, asking if she had a hot date. She sent wisecracks