Finding Jordie: Things aren't always what they seem. (The Love Lies Bleeding Series Book 1) (3 page)

I giggled and hit three to save.
Why did I do that? And did I just giggle?
I lit up a cigarette and hurried on back out to the bar. I searched the first shelf underneath—nothing there—continuing to search until I reached the end of it. There I saw the silver glint of my flip phone sitting on top of a napkin with a note from Rachel:

I went back to my office, plugged my cell into the charger, and butted out my smoke, annoyed.
What the hell? It serves its purpose. It makes calls, sends and receives texts. Sorry, I don’t need to land a space shuttle with it.
I sat back down in a huff, pulled out last night’s till, and reconciled it. Saturday nights were busy, so I needed to get Friday behind me.

MIKE’S DEEP, CHEERFUL LAUGH
broke into the silence in the bar. “Bullshit. She has legs that go straight to her ass.”

“It’s impossible to have legs that go straight to your ass when your ass is already occupied with a stick.” Rachel definitely got an A in the “far too descriptive” department.

I got up from my desk and walked quietly over to my office door. In the dim light, I could see Carlos leaning against the bar, laughing at the two of them.

“What the fuck ever. You’re just jealous because you’re a midget.” Mike towered over Rachel, in spite of her high heels.

I came out to the bar and stood next to Carlos.

“We prefer little people.” Rachel gave Mike the finger and twisted her face up into a sarcastic pout.

Rachel and I were the same height, but she loved spike heels, so she looked a couple inches taller. “Well, if she’s a midget what are you saying about me, Michael?” When they turned in my direction, I gave Mike the “what now, bitch?” look. “And quit your pouting, Rach.”

“What? I’m not pouting. I wasn’t trying to pout. It’s just how my lips are. Are you saying I’m some big lipped midget, like some sort of carnie freak?” She twisted one of her long, brown curls around her finger, her hazel eyes all puppy-doggish and wounded.

“Yeah,
that’s
what I’m saying.” I rolled my eyes and snorted.

As I stepped behind the bar to begin the preparations for a busy Saturday night, I glanced at the clock. I couldn’t believe it was four forty-five already. Where the hell did the day go?

“I see you got my note and the phone Jesus used to invite everyone to the Last Supper.” Rachel smirked at me.

“Eff off, it serves its purpose.”

“Really, Jordie, you need a new one. It’s time to get into this century.”

I turned away from her.

“For real, you need to start living again.” Rachel dropped a bucket of ice to the floor with a loud thud.

“What the fuck am I doing? I’m living.” I flailed my arms while my eyes searched for anywhere but her face.

“No, you’re hiding.” She mocked my arm flailing.

Bitch
. I gave up and stalked back into my office. “Let me know what you guys want for dinner. I’ll order it now.” I slammed my office door.

“Knock, knock.” A few minutes later Mike poked his head in my office waving a white napkin.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mike.” I fixed my gaze on a killer game of Minesweeper. “What’s up?”

“Chinese sound good?” He lowered his white flag.

“Yup, fine. Who wants what?” I opened my desk drawer without looking up and pulled out a menu for the Tasty King.

“I got it.” He walked in and took the menu out of my hand. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” I sat motionless with my hand lingering in the air as if I were still holding the menu.

“Hey, don’t take this shit out on me.” He slapped me lightly on top of my head with the menu.

“Ugh, Mike. Fine.” I groaned and gave him my best ‘I’m sorry’ smile. “Wonton soup and some crab Rangoon. Thank you. Just use the card in the register.”

“Got it, boss. Don’t be pissed at her for too long. She loves you. We all love you.” He smiled back.

“That was good. Thanks, Jordie.” Carlos rubbed his belly.

The phone rang and Mike got up to answer it. “The Post.” He paused for a moment and grinned. “Sure thing, short-stuff. Hang on, I’ll get her for you.” He put the phone down on the bar and nodded at me. “It’s Emma.”

I picked up. “Hey, baby, everything okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” she exaggerated. “Aunt Kelly wants to talk to you. I just wanted to say hi and tell you that I got new boots today at the mall.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

“Emma, that money was for clothes.”

“Don’t go Britney on me, Mom. I got clothes, too, and the boots were on sale.”

I sighed. “Okay, I can’t argue with a sale.” I smiled, wary of my lip again.

“Here’s Aunt Kell. I.L.Y.”

There was some rustling and then my sister’s voice came through the line. “Hey.”

“Hi, Kell. What’s up?”

“I’ll have Emmy home around five tomorrow.” She insisted on calling Emma Emmy, and it drove me batshit crazy. “John has a game at one, pizza after it, and then I’ll head into the city.”

I tapped my foot as I stared at the ceiling because I knew I wouldn’t win even if I argued with her. “That’s fine.” I conceded.

“Love ya.” Her tone reeked of ‘Ha ha, I won again’.

“Love ya more.”

“Doubt it. Bye!” We both blurted it out at the same time and hung up.

At eight thirty p.m. the bar was packed and alive. I stood on my tippy toes and stretched my neck to see over the crowd.

“Why are you stalking the door?” Rachel popped off the top of a beer and placed it on the bar.

“What? I’m not.” My answer flew out of my mouth too quickly. She’d know I was lying.

“Okay. Whatever, Jordie.” She laughed, put money in the register, and handed the guy his change back.

She had been right, though. I
was
stalking the door. I’d spent more time watching that door tonight than I had in the seven years I’d owned the joint.

It was definitely a Saturday night. Rachel was bitching about her usual issues—that guy was an asshole and that chick was a raging bitch who wore too much makeup. My only salvation was the loud music that drowned her out. The DJ was a local radio personality who always got the crowd going. Rachel and I carried on the busy pace behind the bar, flashing our flirty smiles and even throwing in a giggle or two. We had to keep the customers mildly entertained while they waited their turn, some less patiently than others.

“That’s
it
! I need to fucking pee!” Rachel stalked off to the restroom in a huff.

I tended to the customers for a few minutes, then looked up to see Rachel stop to talk to the DJ on her way back from the bathroom. He nodded and laughed as they spoke, clinging to her every word.
Tease.
She must want something. She threw him a wink as she walked back to the bar.

“You know, you shouldn’t be such a dick tease,” I shouted over the music.

“Whaaaatttt? Bitch, please!” She waved her hand nonchalantly in the air.

Around eleven forty-five the atmosphere shifted, and the bar went from crowded to insane. I took a step back to enjoy the show. So many happy people. They danced, they drank, they laughed. They’d remember this night. This was why I loved this place. It was an instant party.

The music got quieter and the DJ shouted, “Who’s having a great time?” The crowd responded with a cheer. “This next song is a request going out to
the fabulous bitch
—her words not mine!” The DJ pointed at Rachel.

“Traitor!” she called back to him with a smile.

He moved his pointed finger to me. “The best biotch anyone could have!”

Rachel busted out with laughter. She knew goddamned well I didn’t enjoy the spotlight. I shot her a ‘you are so fucking fired’ look, but as usual an unaffected Rachel just kept on laughing.
Obviously, she doesn’t care about my feelings.

“Wait for it!” She raised her pointer finger and curled it at Carlos, a signal for him to come over. “Man the bar.” She slapped him on the back as the familiar song began.

“No fucking way.” I backed away from the bar slowly but then busted out in hysterics when *NSYNC’s “Bye Bye Bye” blared through the speakers. The crowd’s reaction was surprisingly enthusiastic. My side already hurt from laughing.
I can’t believe this bitch is doing this!

Rachel hopped up on the bar and stretched her hand out to me. “C’mon, Jordie, it’s been
too long
since you’ve had some fun. For me, please?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned, but I hopped up to sit on the edge of the bar and let her pull me up to stand alongside her. We had been to enough *NSYNC concerts that we knew the choreography to this song like we knew how to breathe. All eyes were on us as we reenacted the infamous dance moves for the song, with our added touch of seductive hip gyrating, hair flipping, and ass shaking. The men in the crowd got a bit rowdy, while some ladies side-eyed us with disapproval. A few went so far as to give their men a smack for being so attentive to our little show. One guy shouted, “JT ain’t got shit on you two!” letting out a loud whistle over the crowd noise. Nothing could have wiped the smiles off of our faces at that moment.

When we finished, the place erupted in cheers, shouting, and whistling, just a cluster fuck of an uproar. It was great. Wearing a smile that cracked the scab on my lip, I took an exaggerated bow. The music went back to the regularly scheduled program, and we were all but forgotten.

“Fuck, that was
fun
.” I leaned my hands on my thighs. “Thanks.” I nudged Rachel’s arm.

“I love when you smile, Jordie. I miss that.” She beamed back at me. I hadn’t seen that face in a long while.

Me too
, I sighed to myself.

She hugged me and shoved Carlos out of the way teasingly. “Go protect someone. Thanks.” She was still smiling a bright smile.

“I’m headed outside for a smoke. I can’t believe I still had that shit in me!”

“Go, go.” She waved her hand, dismissing me.

The air felt so damn good on my face while I walked to the sidewalk. People outside greeted me with cheers and fist bumps. Those I didn’t mind as much as the cat calls and the “you two sexy bitches can move” comment.

“Fucking Rachel.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you, thank you.” I nodded, embarrassed, and continued out to the curb. I dusted off a spot and sat, my legs extended into the street. I lit up my smoke.