Sweet Dreams Read online

  After my shower, I fell straight to sleep.

  * * * * *

  The Saturday shift with Wendy was a revelation.

  Her energy didn’t come from sucking it out of the atmosphere. Instead, there was so much of it, it filled the air and jazzed Dalton (our bartender that day) and me right up with her.

  The three of us had a blast. I found Dalton had a dry wit and didn’t mind leaving the bar to help us collect empties. Wendy was hilarious and didn’t mind shouting across the bar any thought that came into her head and she did this often (thus her having the idea I join her at a boot camp from which ensued our shouting back and forth and her finally talking me into it). Usually, though, these were just wild ideas that made Dalton, me and all the patrons laugh (not that me doing a boot camp wasn’t a wild idea, I just didn’t know it at the time). She also didn’t have an issue with full on making fun of Tonia and Jonelle and even did an impersonation of both of them, each lasting at least ten minutes, which again had Dalton, me and all the customers in stitches.

  Krystal showed up at four thirty looking her usual angry that the earth was still rotating but Wendy didn’t change her behavior one bit and the great vibe continued regardless of Krystal imitating a wet blanket.

  Jonelle showed at a quarter after seven and Wendy agreed to stay on until Tonia waltzed in so I gratefully took off. Saturdays were very different than normal days and this included there being five times as many people in the bar. I was run off my feet and, as much fun as I had, I wanted to get home.

  I was walking back from the grocery store where I bought some deli meat, bread, diet pop and fruit when I saw Tate pull his Harley into Bubba’s.

  His head turned my way as he rode in so my head tipped down and I studiously examined my feet as I kept going.

  Thankfully, he was in the building by the time I walked passed Bubba’s (I peeked).

  I went to the hotel, made myself a sandwich, ate an apple and then took the champagne to the reception desk where Ned was sitting.

  “Betty still up?” I asked when I walked in, holding up the champagne and I saw his big grin light his face.

  “I’ll go get her,” he said.

  “And glasses!” I called after him as he walked away.

  “Glasses!” he called back.

  Then Betty, Ned and I sat in reception, drinking champagne and playing Harry Potter Clue. They were both big Harry Potter fans, each had read the books and seen the movies so many times they lost count (their words) and, being a fan myself, the Clue game was fabulous.

  Betty eventually had to hit the sack so I chatted with Ned for awhile, said my goodnight on a smile and then headed back to my room.

  * * * * *

  I woke in the middle of the night and since the swimming thing worked so well the night before, I did it again and pushed myself harder, doing fifty laps with only one rest.

  I was thinking about how pleased I was with my effort as I toweled off and went to my room. Therefore, I didn’t notice the silent man watching me on his silent Harley that was parked on the side street butting the hotel and couldn’t have known he’d been doing it for fifteen minutes.

  * * * * *

  Working with Tonia on Sunday was a lot less fun than working with Wendy. Krystal was on and Tonia was an hour and a half late. When she showed, Krystal surprised me by not saying a word, just giving her a glare that should have burned two precise laser holes through her head. Tonia ignored this totally and I soon noticed she was good at ignoring a lot of things, including me, who she didn’t say so much as “boo” to, and her customers, unless they were good-looking.

  The good-looking ones she spent a lot of time with but not bringing them drinks. No, standing by their tables flipping her hair around or leaning into her hands and pressing her breasts together and swinging her booty this way and that (I’d seen Wendy do that the day before and now that I saw it, live and in person, I thought Wendy’s impersonation was spot on and even more hilarious).

  Fortunately, Tonia ignoring her customers worked for me because all the rest of them eventually got fed up with it and moved to my section and since I wasn’t a crap waitress, I was very busy but I also got great tips.

  Wendy showed at ten to seven and I would have stayed until Jonelle showed at twenty past but when Tonia and I were both at the bar and Tonia said, “I’ll just cash out,” Krystal replied, “Yeah, you’ll cash out in an hour and a half, the time you owe me.” Then Krystal skewered her with a look, Tonia’s mouth got tight and Krystal finished, “Ass back out on the floor and, while you’re out there, do me a favor and sell some fuckin’ booze.”

  Wendy came back out while this was going on, she gave me a wide-eyed look and grabbed her apron.

  After my shift, I decided to stay in order to give Wendy moral support and have a beer with Jim-Billy who, I found, showed on weekends much later.

  “Like the quiet of the days,” he told me as we drank beer.

  “It isn’t quiet now,” I told him and it wasn’t. The bar was jammed.

  Jim-Billy grinned at me. “Also like the crazy nights,” he took a sip, swallowed then finished, “balance.”

  “Right,” I grinned back.

  Tate showed at eight thirty and I figured that was my cue to go, though I didn’t want him to think I was leaving because of him so I hung out for long enough to make that statement. This lasted a full twenty-five minutes all of which I avoided even looking at him.

  Then I slid a bill on the bar, kissed Jim-Billy’s cheek, called good-bye to Wendy and Krystal and headed out.

  * * * * *

  Monday I was on days and would be for that week but, Krystal told me, I’d graduate to nights the week after.

  Upon arrival at Bubba’s with my La-La Land coffee in one hand and carrot cinnamon muffin in the other, I saw Tate was also on.

  His eyes came to me the minute I walked through the door.

  Before he could say a word, I asked, “You want me to re-stock?”

  I watched his jaw clench as I walked to the bar, sipping my coffee.

  When I hit the bar, Tate asked, “You ever say hello?”

  “Hello,” I replied. “Now, do you want me to re-stock?”

  He shook his head a couple of times, his eyes not leaving me and he said, “Yeah, Ace, re-stock.”

  He tossed me his keys and I waited until I was through the mouth of the hall to mutter, “Don’t call me Ace.”

  * * * * *

  Considering ten bikers didn’t come in that day, I found it harder to avoid Tate because I didn’t have much to do.

  Therefore, I avoided him at lunch by running to the deli and buying him, Jim-Billy and myself a sandwich and taking a detour to La-La Land on the way back to get all of us a huge oatmeal cinnamon cookie, even Tate.

  “I’m in a cinnamon mood!” Shambles had yelled when I questioned him on his cinnamon theme.

  The sandwiches were good, the cookies orgasmic and even Tate said so (though he didn’t use the word “orgasmic” he used the words “the shit” as in, “These cookies are…”).

  After we ate, I took the spritz cleaner and wiped down all the tables and the chairs. That done, I braved going behind the bar with Tate and cleaning all the glass shelves the liquor sat on and the mirror behind it, moving bottles down and putting them back when I was done. Part of it was too high for me so I moved the bottles down, then I climbed up on the back bar and, on my knees, kept going.

  As I was reaching in and wiping, I heard Tate ask, “You want me to get closed down?”

  “No,” I answered the shelves.

  “Then you wanna not commit a health and safety violation while the bar’s open for business?”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” I told the shelves then I let out a little scream. I did this because two hands curled around my hips and I suddenly found my body in motion for two seconds before I found myself on my feet in front of Tate.

  “You wanna pretend I don’t exist, Ace, do it without breaking your neck. Yea
h?” he asked but didn’t wait for me to answer. He turned and started moving the bottles back to the high shelves (something, considering his height that was no problem for him).

  Jim-Billy chuckled. I glared at him.

  Jim-Billy audibly and visibly swallowed his chuckle but didn’t stop smiling.

  The door opened and Nadine walked in.

  “Hey Nadine,” I shouted so enthusiastically, her body jolted with surprise at my exuberant greeting.

  Jim-Billy burst out laughing.

  Nadine approached the bar. “Uh, hey there, Lauren.”

  Jim-Billy turned to her and announced, “Sam and Diane here are having a tiff.”

  Nadine’s face registered understanding and she grinned.

  “I’m not Diane,” I snapped at Jim-Billy and then poked a thumb at Tate. “And he’s not Sam.”

  “Got more hair,” Tate muttered and that was funny but I didn’t laugh even though both Nadine and Jim-Billy did.

  I was also out of things to do to avoid Tate because Nadine sat on a barstool and Tate was already done with the liquor and pulling out her usual bottle of Bud Light. Once he popped off the cap, threw a mat in front of her and put it there, he moved to lean beside me where I was leaning against the back bar.

  I couldn’t move because I’d been made with my avoidance tactics so I had to pretend Tate’s existence didn’t annoy me.

  Everyone was silent.

  Finally, Tate spoke. To me.

  “You get a cell phone yet?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered.

  “You gonna get one on your day off tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Mm,” he murmured.

  This was a mysterious response and I didn’t like the idea of a mysterious Tate so I asked, “What?”

  “Nothin’, babe.”

  I turned to him. “Please, can you stop calling me babe?”

  “No,” he answered.

  I rolled my eyes and lifted a hand, palm up, to him. “Can I have your keys?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to go do a stock take in the back.”

  His eyebrows went up even as he blinked. “You’re gonna do what?”

  “A stock take. Count what you have and see if it’s the same as what’s on the stock sheet.”

  “Bubba and Krystal do that,” Tate told me.

  “Well, I’m saving them the trouble,” I told him back.

  “Why?” he asked.

  I swung my arm out to the bar. “No one’s here. There’s nothing to do.”

  “So get a soda, take a break,” Tate suggested.

  “I can’t not be busy,” I replied.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “I’m working, you’re paying me. I can’t drink a soda and chitchat. That’s not right. I need to be doing something.”

  “Maybe you should get her to do a trainin’ course for Tonia and Jonelle,” Nadine put in and Tate’s head swung in her direction in order to grin at her.

  We were close but even when we weren’t close I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him smile.

  He looked good smiling.

  I straightened my spine and lifted my hand up again.

  “Captain, can you just give me your keys?” I asked, sounding as exasperated as I was.

  He looked down at me, still grinning, I did my best to ignore how good that looked pointed in my direction and he dug in his front jeans pocket, came out with the keys and dropped them in my hand.

  “Knock yourself out,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I returned and hightailed it to the hall.

  * * * * *

  My stock take took awhile because it was a big job and I kept going out to check if there were more customers. Around five thirty, I made note of where I stopped and headed out as the after work crowd was rolling in.

  At six thirty, the after work crowd suddenly included Wood.

  As I was waiting for Dalton, who’d showed a half an hour earlier, to fill my order, Wood slid onto the stool beside me. I looked at him and smiled.

  “Hey there,” I said.

  “Hey Lauren,” he smiled back. “Car’s done.”

  “Find anything I need to know about?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “All good.”

  That would be the case. Brad had been obsessive about taking care of our cars even though I thought this was nuts considering he got rid of them to upgrade every two years. On a stringent schedule, he had the oil checks done, the tires rotated, the engine tuned and both our cars regularly detailed. Not cleaned, detailed. He spent a fortune on it. Crazy.

  “Wanna drink, Wood?” Dalton asked him.

  “Yeah,” Wood said on a chin lift, “Coors.”

  “Gotcha,” Dalton replied and turned to the fridges.

  “When’re you off?” Wood asked.

  “Sorry?” I was hefting up the tray that Dalton loaded and concentrating on balancing it on my hand.

  “Tonight, baby, when’re you off?” he repeated and his voice had gone gentle and he’d called me baby so my eyes shot to his just as my heart started beating faster.

  “Seven, depending on when one of the girls shows.”

  “Ridin’ out tonight,” he told me then went on. “You wanna be on the back of my bike?”

  “Sorry?” I repeated, a thrill going through my belly at the thought of riding on a bike. I’d never done it but always wanted to, always. I figured that thrill was a bit more thrilling because Wood would be the one in front of me on that bike.

  “You get done, I’ll take you to your car, follow you to the hotel and you and me can ride out.”

  “I need to get dinner,” I said to him and he smiled.

  “Then you and me’ll ride out and get dinner,” he amended.

  “I’d like –” I started to accept but suddenly Tate was there and he had Wood’s Coors.

  “Need you to stay tonight,” Tate said, planting the Coors in front of Wood and not looking at him because he was looking at me.

  “What?” I asked Tate.

  “Place is packed, babe, you need to stay until both Wendy and Tonia show,” Tate answered and I looked around the bar seeing he was right. It was even more packed than it usually was with after work drinkers.

  Still, hopeful, I suggested, “Wendy can handle this crowd with two of you behind the bar.”

  “I’m leavin’ soon, got somethin’ to see to,” Tate replied.

  “But –”

  He interrupted me. “Need you to stay.”

  “Um…” I started but he walked away.

  I turned to Wood and saw he was watching Tate and he didn’t look very happy.

  “I’m sorry Wood, I’ve got to stay,” I said softly and his head turned to me and he still didn’t look very happy.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “Tonia can be pretty late. On Sunday, she was an hour and a half late. I don’t know –”

  I stopped speaking because I watched Wood’s face gentle and it looked so good, I had to concentrate on keeping my tray aloft and not swooning.

  “’Nother time, baby,” Wood said softly.

  “Okay,” I whispered and didn’t move.

  When I didn’t move for awhile, Wood smiled at me and tipped his head to my tray. “You might wanna serve your drinks, Lauren.”

  “Oh!” I cried. “Right. I’ll come and get my car tomorrow.”

  He nodded his head.

  “Later,” he said as I turned away.

  “Later, Wood,” I called over my shoulder.

  * * * * *

  Tonia was forty-five minutes late and by the time she showed, Wood was gone.

  She sauntered in wearing a tank top cut off just below her breasts and a mini-skirt that was almost non-existent hanging on her hips and it was hanging in a way that it looked like it was valiantly trying not to give up the ghost but was about to fall off. She also had on sky-high stilettos that had crisscross straps that crissed and crossed all the way up he
r calves.

  When she came in, I breathed a sigh of relief because I’d been on awhile and it might have been a slow day but it was a hectic night.

  “Hey Tate,” she breathed, her eyes dewy as she hit the bar right next to me without even glancing in my direction.

  “You’re forty-five minutes late,” Tate replied.

  “Yeah, I –”

  “You’re also dressed like a whore,” Tate went on and I sucked in breath and my eyes shot to Dalton who was close but edging back.

  “What?” Tonia asked.

  “You’re forty-five minutes late, you’re dressed like a whore and when you start workin’, you don’t sell shit. Tell me, Tonia, why do I pay you?”

  “Um…” she flipped her hair because she always flipped her hair but this time I noticed it was also to hide the fact that she was nervous, “to serve drinks.”

  “Your shift started nearly an hour ago. You serve any of those drinks in that hour?”

  “I wasn’t here, Tate, I had a situ –” Tonia began.

  “Woman, you always got a situation and I don’t give a fuck,” Tate cut her off. “Strut your ass right back out that door. I’m done.”

  Wendy slid in beside me and stayed but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the scene in front of me.

  “Are you firing me?” Tonia whispered, her eyes growing big and her body getting tight.

  “Yeah,” Tate replied.

  “But Krystal –”

  “Bubba’s back, he never liked you, Krystal never liked you and I sure as fuck never liked you. You’re always late and when you’re here you act like you’re in a singles club. Don’t need that shit. Go.”

  “But –”

  Tate leaned in and clipped, “Bitch, go.”

  She stared at him frozen like a deer in headlights for a second then she turned and hurried out the door.

  Tate’s eyes sliced to me and I braced.

  “You’re off. I’ll delay my shit a-fuckin’-gain and stay on.”

  “I’m fine to stay on, help Wendy,” I offered.

  He leaned in and he looked beyond his usual angry, so far beyond it I had to force my body to stay where it was rather than take a step back.

  “Babe –” he started.

  I threw up my hands. “Right, Captain, I’m off.”

  He extended a hand to me. “Give me your apron, I’ll cash you out.”