bar and came back to the table with two longnecks in hand, he stood awkwardly, waiting for an invitation to sit.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Sit down.”
Dick looked around, wondering why she was sitting alone, then remembered that the club owner had been hitting on her before.
She must have read his mind. “He’s upstairs, cashing out a couple of waitresses. Probably won’t be down for a while. Go ahead and sit.”
He slid into the booth and passed her one of the beers, drinking deeply from his. His courage as high as it was going to get, he sat upright. “Will said maybe you could lend me some cash. Maybe ‘till Friday.”
She looked at him. “You know we broke up, right? I don’t know what he’s got going on over there. Buying sailboats and whatever.”
Dick clenched his jaw and looked around the bar again. She was his only chance. “OK. Never mind Will. How about fifty bucks ‘til Friday? I’ll pay you from the tips that night. Promise.” He waited.
“I’ll lend you the cash if you tell me what you were about to say earlier.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“You know. When you saw me with the club owner. I could tell by the look on your face that you knew something. I haven’t been around here that long, and he seems nice.”
Dick was unsure how to continue. He couldn’t afford to lose his job, but seeing Sheryl with the dickhead was too much for him. “Dude’s a prick. Me and Kyle call him the dickhead. He picks up these girls and I don’t know what happens, but some of them come back looking for him. Mad like shit.”
She looked at her beer. “I guess I was hoping for the best, but I kind of had a feeling.” She sucked down the rest of her beer. “I’ll tell you what, you give me a ride home and I’ll lend you the money.”
Dick didn’t need to be asked twice. He slammed the beer down and got up.
She must have caught his drift. “Let’s get out of here before he comes back down. I didn’t promise anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Dick said as he looked down the bar, at the half a dozen girls that might interest him, hoping this would not cost her job.
Chapter 12
Will knew he had to get his head on straight. The girl had gone to the bathroom, and he likely had a few minutes to get his head organized. Finding Kyle was the reason he was here; not to become bewitched by a bimbo. He knew she was, but that didn’t change anything and again he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked back to the bar. Forcing himself back on topic was not easy as she eased onto the bar stool, brushed her hair from her face, and finished her glass of wine. She looked at him again, and he nodded to the bartender, hovering nearby as if on cue.
“That guy you got in a fight with. George, right?”
“Gregori, yes.” She nodded.
“Do you know where he lives or keeps his boat or anything?”
She nodded again and he waited for an answer. But the silence dragged on, the mention of George's name having changed her mood.
Suddenly he had an idea. “Do you live with him?”
Again she nodded.
“Maybe I can take you over there to get your stuff and you can stay on my boat for a while. You know, until you get sorted out.”
She looked at him and pursed her lips as if to speak. He wasn’t sure if she just didn’t have the language skills to communicate, but she seemed to understand. Maybe she was fearful of George's retribution.
Just as he was about to give up, she murmured, “You have a boat?”
It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Yeah, a small sailboat. Kind of like camping.” He didn’t want to get her expectations up. “It’s big enough for two, though.”
“Maybe that would be a good idea. I don’t think he’ll be home. He was getting the boat ready when we fought. Looked like he was going to be out for a few days from the supplies he was loading.”
So she did understand. “Cool. My truck is at the marina
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Sit down.”
Dick looked around, wondering why she was sitting alone, then remembered that the club owner had been hitting on her before.
She must have read his mind. “He’s upstairs, cashing out a couple of waitresses. Probably won’t be down for a while. Go ahead and sit.”
He slid into the booth and passed her one of the beers, drinking deeply from his. His courage as high as it was going to get, he sat upright. “Will said maybe you could lend me some cash. Maybe ‘till Friday.”
She looked at him. “You know we broke up, right? I don’t know what he’s got going on over there. Buying sailboats and whatever.”
Dick clenched his jaw and looked around the bar again. She was his only chance. “OK. Never mind Will. How about fifty bucks ‘til Friday? I’ll pay you from the tips that night. Promise.” He waited.
“I’ll lend you the cash if you tell me what you were about to say earlier.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“You know. When you saw me with the club owner. I could tell by the look on your face that you knew something. I haven’t been around here that long, and he seems nice.”
Dick was unsure how to continue. He couldn’t afford to lose his job, but seeing Sheryl with the dickhead was too much for him. “Dude’s a prick. Me and Kyle call him the dickhead. He picks up these girls and I don’t know what happens, but some of them come back looking for him. Mad like shit.”
She looked at her beer. “I guess I was hoping for the best, but I kind of had a feeling.” She sucked down the rest of her beer. “I’ll tell you what, you give me a ride home and I’ll lend you the money.”
Dick didn’t need to be asked twice. He slammed the beer down and got up.
She must have caught his drift. “Let’s get out of here before he comes back down. I didn’t promise anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Dick said as he looked down the bar, at the half a dozen girls that might interest him, hoping this would not cost her job.
Chapter 12
Will knew he had to get his head on straight. The girl had gone to the bathroom, and he likely had a few minutes to get his head organized. Finding Kyle was the reason he was here; not to become bewitched by a bimbo. He knew she was, but that didn’t change anything and again he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked back to the bar. Forcing himself back on topic was not easy as she eased onto the bar stool, brushed her hair from her face, and finished her glass of wine. She looked at him again, and he nodded to the bartender, hovering nearby as if on cue.
“That guy you got in a fight with. George, right?”
“Gregori, yes.” She nodded.
“Do you know where he lives or keeps his boat or anything?”
She nodded again and he waited for an answer. But the silence dragged on, the mention of George's name having changed her mood.
Suddenly he had an idea. “Do you live with him?”
Again she nodded.
“Maybe I can take you over there to get your stuff and you can stay on my boat for a while. You know, until you get sorted out.”
She looked at him and pursed her lips as if to speak. He wasn’t sure if she just didn’t have the language skills to communicate, but she seemed to understand. Maybe she was fearful of George's retribution.
Just as he was about to give up, she murmured, “You have a boat?”
It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Yeah, a small sailboat. Kind of like camping.” He didn’t want to get her expectations up. “It’s big enough for two, though.”
“Maybe that would be a good idea. I don’t think he’ll be home. He was getting the boat ready when we fought. Looked like he was going to be out for a few days from the supplies he was loading.”
So she did understand. “Cool. My truck is at the marina
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