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I hadn’t decided how big of a dick I wanted to be yet.
The woman with the silly hat slipped behind the bar as I was pouring a beer with a thick, foamy head that was making my mouth water. Swallowing hard, I turned my attention to the small trespasser.
Her hat had this black netting that draped over her heavy, dark brown bangs, and she had a tray hanging from a velvet strap around her neck.
Interesting. Confusing, but definitely interesting.
She went straight for the pink box, sweeping open the lid. Had she dropped it off in the wrong place? In that case, the rightful recipient was going to be a few cupcakes shy of a full delivery.
“What the fuck?” she muttered.
I sidled closer as her head jerked up. Her eyes narrowed beneath her veil then quickly landed on me with a flare before dropping back to suspicious slits.
“Did you eat cupcakes from this box?”
For such a small person, she loaded a lot of threat into one question.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not normally a stickler for rules, but in this case, I’m going to have to be. If you need something, hang out on the other side of the bar, and I’ll be more than happy to serve you.”
Her red lips formed an O as she blinked at me. A girl who looked like she did, even in her funny hat, probably wasn’t used to being put in her place. To be fair, if this were my bar, I’d let her fuck around back here all she wanted just because she was nice to look at and I liked her cupcakes. But this was Nick’s place. Rules were rules unless he said otherwise.
“Where’s Nick?” she asked.
“Not here tonight.” I made a sweeping gesture. “Move a couple feet and park yourself on the opposite side of the bar and we can talk about whatever you need.”
She rolled her eyes with a huff. “Okay, new guy. Obviously, you don’t know how things work. Call Nick. He’ll explain.” Propping her tray on the bar, she started loading cupcakes onto half, next to cups with…meat in them?
“Excuse me. I don’t have time to argue right now. I have cupcakes and charcuterie cups to sell.”
“Sell?” I spluttered. “What makes you think you can come in here and sell cupcakes?”
“Call Nick and ask him.” She didn’t stop moving, efficiently filling her tray. My stomach protested with a growl as she emptied the box. “Or Lloyd or Bea or Duke.”
“I’m asking you,” I bit out more sharply than intended.
She had me on my back foot. My defenses were raised. I really didn’t like the feeling of not being in on something everyone else was, and this woman, with her tray of treats, was not telling me what was going on.
Finally, her eyes raised to mine. “Nice power trip. Did they teach you that in bartending school?”
She made an about face and flounced away from me, her short, pleated leather skirt bouncing with each step. I swallowed hard again. Tearing my eyes from this brand of temptation wasn’t as easy.
Stopping at the first table to flag her down, she plastered on a smile for a group of guys I could read as fake from here. They laughed at something she said, and she shimmied her shoulders to show off her goods.
That was when I got it.
She was like a cigarette girl from the old days, only instead of tobacco, her tray held treats. Nick, the fuck, hadn’t told me about this addition to his business. I’d helped him open this place. We’d planned it from soups to nuts. And he’d never uttered a word about hiring a cigarette girl. I observed her flitting from table to table, selling her meat cups and cupcakes. Nick might’ve been onto something. I didn’t know what she was charging, but customers were paying.
Fingers snapped in front of my face, bringing me back to the present—to the job I’d volunteered for and had been neglecting to watch a woman in a silly hat.
The surly, blue-haired waitress, Bea, was frowning at me. I’d noted she frowned at everyone, so I didn’t take it personally.
“Wake up, Preppy. I have orders for you.”
I got started on her orders while she tapped her long nails on the bar top.
Cocking my head, I said, “Preppy, huh?”
“If the deck shoe fits.”
