Fire and Ice: Rekindled (The Fire and Ice Series Book 2) Page 11

  My eyes widen at her candor, and I say, "Are you serious?"

  Her devious smile falters as her expression becomes stern. With steely resolve, she declares, "I'll shank a bitch." And her unrelenting glare tells me she absolutely would.

  I chuckle at the ridiculous notion and shake my head at her lack of compunction, saying, "Then we'd have to hide the weapon, and it's pretty hard to come up with an alibi with a room full of witnesses."

  "Wouldn't be the first time," she quipped.

  I shot her a scathing look as I said, "Gee, thanks for bringing that up."

  "Sorry," she said simply as her voice became laced with guilt. "Hey," she continued as she stepped closer to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Let me make it up to you."

  I waved my hand between us, saying flatly, "Don't worry about it."

  Bending her head down so she was eye level with me, she said, "No, really...I want to."

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes, more at myself than her, because I knew she wouldn't relent until I agreed. "Fine," I stated. "What do you have in mind?" Please let it be a month long trip to Fiji.

  "How about we go for a mani/pedi in the morning and then do lunch."

  "Georgia, you know I have work tomorrow. I can't just bail."

  "Sure you can," she shrugged.

  "And leave Joe hanging?" I shook my head adamantly, saying, "No way. Not gonna happen."

  Georgia cocked her hip and placed her hand on it, saying, "Yeah, because I'm so sure he'll be slammed tomorrow. The friggin' U.S. Open is on all day. If we're lucky we might get a few guys in here drinking draft beer at a snail's pace."

  "Good point."

  "So is that a 'yes'?" she asked, her voice and eyes hopeful.

  "I suppose," I stated flatly.

  Seemingly satisfied that I'd assented, she refocused her attention back to our previous topic of conversation. "You never answered my question."

  "What question?" I feigned innocence.

  "You gonna throw down tonight, or what?" she asked, tossing a dishrag at me.

  I playfully tossed it back her, replying, "You can put your claws away, Kitty Cat."

  Just then, time seemingly slowed to a crawl as the front door creaked open, and I knew it was her. Not because of Georgia's mocking description of her..."Leila," she had trilled in a snide voice. "More like 'Lay ya' if ya ask me." And contrary to Georgia's explanation of her attire, she didn't look all that slutty...well maybe a little bit if you counted the dramatic swaying of her hips and the way she winked seductively as the majority of the men in the room swung their eyes to gawk at her. She looked like a pinup doll, her attire retro, and her makeup and hair flawless. She actually looked a bit familiar in a way, but I was pretty sure I'd remember seeing a proverbial blond bombshell graced with curves in all the right places.

  She sashayed her way over to the stage, glanced over her shoulder, and made direct eye contact with me, as her crimson stained lips curled up into an all knowing smile. My eyes widened and my hands began to shake, causing me to drop the glass I was holding, sending shards of shattered glass across the floor. The sound of the breaking glass seemed to amplify in the large space, and the noise of the crowd died down a bit as the majority of the patrons looked in my direction.

  Georgia and I immediately stooped down and began to gather up the larger pieces of glass as she whispered, "What the hell?"

  "I know her!" I exclaimed.

  "You know her?" Georgia parroted back to me.

  "Well, I don't know her. I mean I've seen her before," I explained.

  "Where?" she questioned, her whisper becoming louder.

  "Is there a problem?" Kellan's voice cut into our private conversation. I peered up at him as he loomed over the two of us. He stood with his hands lazily placed inside his pockets, as he glared at me intently.

  Stammering, I said, "I...um..."

  "It was my fault," Georgia cut me off. "I wasn't watching where I was going," she defended.

  I could hear Leila giggling like a teenager from across the bar, and Kellan turned his attention towards the sound of her laughter. I quickly glanced over to Georgia as she rolled her eyes and scrunched up her face as if a putrid smell had just wafted our way.

  Without looking back to us, he said with annoyance, "Whatever. Just get it cleaned up before I end up in a lawsuit."

  "Yeah, you might want to try to stay out of the courtroom," Georgia ribbed. I elbowed her in the arm before Kellan snapped his hardened gaze to her. Without saying a word, he stalked off into the crowd.

  Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I whisper-yelled, "What is wrong with you?"

  "Oh c'mon, Hailey. Lighten up. He's a pecker head."

  "You're going to get yourself fired," I admonished.

  "Please," she quipped. "If he was gonna fire me, he'd have done it by now." The words rolled off her tongue dismissively, but a shadow of concern passed over her face.

  "I swear...you are incorrigible."

  Georgia shrugged, saying, "So, anyways, how do you know this chick?"

  Feeling his presence again, I looked up to find Kellan leaning over the bar staring at me and Georgia as he shouted, "Hey Joe...how many bartenders does it take to clean up a broken glass?"

  Kellan's sarcasm was lost on Joe as I turned to find him volleying his eyes between Kellan, Georgia and me with a confused look on his face. Shrugging he answered, "I dunno...two?"

  "What the fuck are you two doing back there- looking for lost change?" Kellan barked.

  Directing my attention back to Georgia, I said to her, "I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Let's get this cleaned up before he flips his shit."

  Leila's syrupy voice suddenly cut in as she purred, "Hey Sugar!"

  As Georgia and I shot each other a knowing look, Georgia said conspiratorially, "I can still go sharpen my claws," as she wiggled her fingers in the air. My lips quirked up into a half smile as she added, "Just sayin'."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hailey

  I'd asked Joe last night if he would mind covering my shift for a few hours today so Georgia and I could have a girl's day out. As Georgia predicted, he was more than happy to oblige. Having a 'mani/pedi day' wasn't something I'd normally waste my hard earned money on, but Georgia was offering to foot the bill, so I decided to relent and just enjoy the moment. I still felt bad, considering my toes rarely see the light of day, and my nails would probably be chipped by the end of the night. But complaining just seemed rude, and Georgia seemed to be enjoying herself, so I placated her and went with the flow.

  An hour after we'd entered the small, quaint nail salon, we walked out with freshly polished nails, and I had to admit, the foot massage felt like heaven, leaving me feeling revived and ready to take on the day, despite what had occurred last evening.

  Luckily, the bar was nearly full last night, which kept me busy, and with little time to focus on anything other than keeping my customer's drinks flowing. Although I may have snuck in a peek or two to check out the band as they played for the eager crowd, I garnished no other looks from Leila, and Kellan and I continued to skirt around each other, rarely coming into contact with one another, save for a few passing glances. The tension between us has been palpable, but I have no intentions of having anything more than a cordial, professional relationship with Kellan- now or ever.

  As Georgia and I arrived at the hip little coffee shop and cafe, I was dreading playing twenty questions with her over my knowledge of Leila. She hadn't mentioned it once during our visit to the nail salon, but I could sense she was chomping at the bit.

  We seated ourselves at a small table in the corner of the cafe and waited for a server to approach us. Georgia was babbling about a new wine Eve had selected for them to try, and I yawned out of boredom as she continued to explain the multiple aromas and flavors of Eve's selection. None of it made any sense to me, and I drowned her out as I perused the menu, which had twice as many coffee choices as food selections.

  A young girl
who looked to be around eighteen arrived at our table as she fumbled with her order pad and continued to dig into her apron, looking for her pen I think. She must have been new to the job, as her hands were shaking and she looked over her shoulder as if she was hoping nobody was watching her. Noticing her nametag, I spoke up, saying, "Carly?" She stilled her movements and looked to me, mortified, yet she said nothing. I pointed in her direction and continued, "It's behind your ear," as I sympathized with her, remembering how flustered I'd felt when I'd first started my job at the bar.

  The young lady pulled the pen from behind her ear, pushed her glasses up her nose, and smiled half-heartedly, saying, "Duh! I'd lose my head if it weren't attached." Even though she must have been embarrassed, her feeble attempt at humor told me she was a determined employee. Good for her. Georgia was, of course, oblivious to the situation happening before us. With her lips pursed, she slid her finger down the menu, contemplating what to order.

  The young waitress blew a wayward strand of hair from her forehead that had fallen into her eyes, took in a breath of air, and said, "Sorry...I'm new here. Still learning the ropes."

  I gave her a sympathetic, knowing look, as Georgia piped up, insensitive to the young waitress's plight. "I'll take a white chocolate latte and a club sandwich...double bacon." She shoved the menu towards the girl without bothering to glance her way. My eyebrows rose as she said, "What? I have a high metabolism."

  The young girl scribbled furiously on her order pad, then looked to me expectantly. After quickly skimming over the menu, I said, "I'll just take a grilled chicken salad, light Italian dressing on the side, please."

  "Pssh," Georgia let out, rolling her eyes.

  "Hey, not all of us were graced with favor by the metabolic gods," I shot back at her.

  "It's not like you're fat!" Georgia exclaimed. "I'd kill to have your curves." I ignored her as I gave the waitress a polite smile to ease her obvious discomfort over Georgia's lack of a filter. "Why don't you at least get some bacon on top," she suggested.

  "What is it with you and bacon?" I snapped.

  "Whatever," Georgia harrumphed. "Might as well eat tree bark," she added under her breath. I shot her a look of warning and she put up her hands in surrender as she shrugged her shoulders, continuing, "Ok, ok...just saying."

  The waitress volleyed her eyes between us before squeaking out, "Would you like something to drink?"

  "Water with lemon," I said flatly.

  The young girl winced as Georgia snapped her head up, yelling, "Oh come on! This place has the best coffee in a thirty-mile radius. If I knew you were gonna have water and rabbit food, I would have planned a picnic in your back yard for Christ's sake!"

  Sighing in frustration, I rubbed my forehead and waved my hand in the air as I acquiesced, "Fine, give me a cappuccino or whatever."

  Fumbling to hold onto our menus and write at the same time, the waitress quickly jotted down my beverage order and scurried away.

  "Jesus, you're a pill today," Georgia accused.

  "Me?" I returned. "You're the one who dragged me out here today so you could pump me for information." Her eyes widened as she realized I had her pegged. "I'm not stupid you know," I said in annoyance.

  "Nothing gets past you," Georgia said, a broad smile creeping onto her lips. I flipped her off as she snickered. "So...what's the scoop?" she asked unabashedly. I shook my head as a small giggle escaped me.

  She was staring at me intently, and I knew her patience was waning. Georgia being out of the loop was the equivalent of a tweaking crack addict. I could probably squeeze dinner out of her if I withheld the information long enough.

  ******

  Kellan

  I was in a less than stellar mood when I'd finally gotten the bar closed up last night. Watching Leila perform "Ex's & Oh's" by Elle King left a bad taste in my mouth, and with the surreptitious looks she was throwing my way, last call couldn't have come soon enough. Though Hailey had tried to shrug off the tension, I could tell Leila's scathing looks in her direction hadn't gone unnoticed. Working with, near, or around these two women will be like walking a tightrope, and maybe just as dangerous. Luckily, the band cleared out shortly after their last set, leaving me feeling grateful I hadn't had to deal with Leila any more than absolutely necessary.

  Putting my pride aside this morning, I remind myself I have a business to run and bills to pay as I try to peel my eyelids open, instantly blinded by the piercing sunlight filtering in through the blinds I had absentmindedly left open yesterday. Even though I've most likely only gotten a few decent hours of sleep, I'm guessing by the penetrating glare that it's sometime mid-morning. Feeling around on the nightstand, I locate my phone, prop myself up on one elbow, and squint to note the time. It's going on 9:00 and I slump back against my pillow and throw my arm over my eyes, knowing I'm too awake to fall back asleep, yet too exhausted to spring from my bed just yet. So I don't...I just lie there, allowing my brain to turn the events of the last few days over and over again in my head until I feel a headache coming on.

  Breaking myself from my ruminations, I toss the blankets from my body as if I'm physically dispelling the thoughts from my personal space, and rise quickly out of bed. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn as I shuffle towards the bathroom, the realization dawning on me that I'm not as young as I used to be.

  As I step into the hot flow of the shower, my mind drifts and I introspectively wonder who came up with the saying 'I'm not as young as I used to be'. Well no shit, Sherlock. Nobody is ever as young as they used to be. And the chronic aching in my back and knees from years of manual labor are the proof that's written on my face, or in the pudding...whatever...I'm getting old, plain and simple. Thirty is the new fifty; might as well order my bifocals and cane before senility sets in. Fuck- if I could only go back ten years, five years...there's so much I would do differently.

  Leaning my forearm and head against the cool tiles of the shower, I allow my mind to drift back to the many intimate moments Hailey and I had shared, and conclude there isn't a single one I would trade, even if it meant righting the wrongs of the last few years. Call me selfish, but I'm treading quicksand here, and the precious few memories I have are the only things keeping me from going under.

  My mind begins to wander and I let my eyes fall shut and grip my hardening cock, my hand stroking it seemingly of it's own accord as I envision the sight of Hailey standing naked before me. Thoughts of her beautiful body invade me...her creamy skin and silky hair...the dip of her waist...the curve of her hips, and that ass...Jesus she has a great ass. The all-too-short-lived fantasy of her kneeling before me, taking my rock hard dick into her mouth, the tip hitting the back of her throat as her lips hollow and sink to the base, has me grunting out my release faster than I'd like to admit. Regardless of my reputation, I haven't been laid in...well, to be honest, I can't even remember the last time I'd gotten laid. See...senility already setting in. Jesus, getting old sucks.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kellan

  I had arrived at the bar about twenty minutes past ten this morning. I wanted to look over the sales reports from last night and plug some numbers into the tracking software that I'd had Jim install before I took over the bar. I've spent the last hour comparing the numbers from this week to Jim's sales for the prior month. We had added a few premium drinks to our menu, and coupled with the attendance for the band's debut, we raked in a pretty respectable profit last night. If I could keep the momentum going, the bar and I would be sitting pretty within the next year.

  Pleased with the reports from last night, I printed them out, placed them in a folder in the filing cabinet, and closed out the program. Flicking my wrist to check the time, I saw it was nearing time to open. Joe had peeked his head into my office a while back to let me know he was here. Solely focused on my paperwork, I simply raised my hand without bothering to look up from my laptop. Every once in a while I would faintly register the sounds of boxes being opened and beer bottles clanking aga
inst one another as the drop in coolers were filled, preparing the bar for the day ahead.

  I take in a deep breath as I ready myself for yet another day performing the intricate balancing act of working with Hailey, knowing she probably despises me. And putting up with Leila's incessant flirting with me, her lack of subtlety evident, keeps me constantly on the edge of losing my shit in front of the other band members, the staff...hell, even the customers. Yeah, yeah...I know- bad for business, but my sanity is waning here. I'm not sure how many more times I can smile through clenched teeth at the mention of "our little angel, Andrew", without throttling the bitch. For shits and giggles, let's assume the kid does, in fact, exist...well then this is a situation that needs to be rectified ASAP.