Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers)

I know their drinks before they can even sit down—High Life on tap. I mean, technically most of the regulars order the same thing, but these two always have their first round with a shot of vodka and a wedge of lime.

“The cheap stuff, doll,” old Burt greets.

The dinners are rolling out, and I have no idea how Hendrix is keeping up, yet he is.

I run to the back to give him a bar order to find Morrison in the kitchen with Hendrix and the two girls from last week. I didn’t see them come in. Now I know how he is keeping up.

The blonde kisses Hendrix on the cheek, and I turn away. I have heard all these woman talk about the Caldwell brothers, I didn’t like it then. I see her kiss Hendrix, and I definitely don’t like it now.

“Everything okay out there?” Hendrix pulls away from the blonde bimbo and walks to me, stopping right in front of me.

“Sure is.”

I look around him, and sure enough, bimbo is smirking at me. Yep, she sure is.

I rub my butt. ‘Classy and Fabulous.’ Then, I step back and pull myself together, while he looks at me in the way he always does—like he is trying to figure me out.

“Just have some orders. People are eating at the bar. Must be your special rub.” I say it a little louder so the bimbo hears me. Though, I am shocked I said it out loud, much less to rile blondie.

His eyebrows shoot up, letting me know I have surprised him again. A slow smirk creeps up in the corner of his lip as he shakes his head and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“You gonna give me the orders or keep them for yourself?”

“Maybe I should give them to her,” I whisper.

Now he is full-on grinning. I never noticed how white his teeth are, and I like them.

“Sadi,” he says loudly, “Livi has some orders she needs filled.”

“Since when do I fill orders for your temporary help?” she sneers as she walks around him and shoves her hand in front of my face.

“Since now.” I hand them to her and glare. “And I’m not temporary help; I’ve been here two weeks and one day.”

She huffs and Hendrix chuckles.

“Sadi, you want to keep this little Friday night gig—”

“And Thursdays,” she says tauntingly.

“Fill the orders.” Hendrix continues smirking at me as I scowl and turn my back to walk away, rubbing my butt for my daily reminder.

I am almost behind the bar when he catches my elbow. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

I look back at him, rub my butt again, and shake my head.

“Look, you come get the food, the tips are yours. She brings it out, they’re hers. The faster we settle this debt, the faster you can—”

I feel my stomach flip.

I brush past him and grab the plates of food off the counter before she does.

She whispers, “Watch it, bitch.”

“Excuse me?” I whisper back, honestly not thinking she could have possibly said that to me.

“He has no interest in you.” She snickers as she looks me up and down.

“My interest is in my job,” I say back with as much confidence as I can gather up.

I need this job in order to pay off my debt to Hendrix. Then, I can move on, put all this behind me, and he can go back to whatever he has with her or whoever else.

My chest burns in annoyance. I want to rub my butt again. ‘Classy and fabulous,’ that is going to be me tonight. Always work this fabulous backside with nothing but class. I got this. I run this mother.

Pushing past her, plates in hand, I focus on my job.

When dinner is over, Jagger comes up behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. “Rush is over, coolers are stocked. Go take fifteen minutes and chill. You’re pretty damn tense, Livi.”

“No, you go ahead,” I say, regretfully stepping away from the shoulder massage.

“I insist.”

I’m about to refuse again when I see Hendrix glaring in my direction and decide to take the break I need.

Once I step outside, I let out a loud sigh.

“You really think you have a chance?” I look over as Sadi blows smoke out of her mouth in my direction.

“I’m here to work, not keep anyone’s attention.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” She throws her cigarette on the ground and stomps on it with her leather boot. “After he fucks you, he’ll let you go, just like everyone else.”

“Well, I will assume this is your way of marking your territory, and I can assure you—”

“Why do you think he doesn’t want you here on Thursday nights anymore? After he gets all worked up, do you really think he wants you cramping his style? I mean, you can’t even keep your shit straight behind the bar. You depend on him for everything. A man like Hendrix doesn’t need a needy, little troll like you holding him back. He took care of his mother for years and finally—”