Well, at least he knew how to be polite even if he didn’t speak much. It had become so hard to find men with manners these days.
He followed me over to the bar, and a couple of moments later, I placed a scotch in front of him. The fact he sat at the bar surprised me: he usually claimed a table in the back corner.
“That guy come in here often?” he asked after taking a swig of his drink.
“I’ve never seen him before.”
He nodded and a thoughtful look crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything.
“You know him?” I asked.
His eyes focused on mine. Guarded. I bet this dude held thousands of secrets inside. “Let’s just say I know of him. He’s not a man you want back in here.”
He kept his eyes glued to mine while he drank some more of his scotch. His stare unnerved me. Something no one managed to do these days
Fuck, time to move away from him.
I nodded at him and said, “Well, thanks again for your help.”
Without waiting for his reply, I left the bar and headed to the office out in the back. I hadn’t even taken the time to make sure the staff was okay on their own. I needed a time-out so, hopefully, they’d cope without me.
***
Two hours later I left the office and headed back out to the front. Paperwork had consumed my last couple of hours to the point of weariness. I found the bar almost deserted. Jess and Damian were serving the last few stragglers and I began getting ready to close. It looked like we might get an early one tonight, which, in one respect, was good, because I needed sleep, but the bills wouldn’t pay themselves.
As I cleaned up, I knocked a glass to the floor and it shattered everywhere.
Bloody hell, why couldn’t things be easy for once?
I bent down to clean it and when I stood after getting all the glass picked up, I came face to face with a man sporting a long scar down his face. Malice clung to him and the hairs on the back of my neck raised. I feared for my safety and instinctively took a step back. When his two friends stepped forward with hostility clear on their faces, I figured we were as good as fucked.
“Dale in?” Scarface enquired.
“No.”
“Where is he, sweetheart?” His voice gave me chills.
“I haven’t seen him for two days so I can’t help you there.”
His face darkened. “Looks like we’ve got a problem then, you and me. He owes me a lot of money and I need that money within the next forty-eight hours.”
“Fuck off. It’s not my debt to clear up.”
“You’re Layla, right? His business partner?”
Shit, how the hell did he know that? “Even if I am, it’s still got nothing to do with me.”
“He used his bar as collateral so it’s got everything to do with you.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Anger didn’t begin to cover my feelings toward Dale now. I should have done some damage to him the other day.
“I don’t fucking kid. When I come back in two days, I’ll expect to see the twenty grand he owes me.”
My head almost exploded. Twenty fucking grand!
“There’s no way I can come up with that kind of money in two days.”
“It’s a pity.”