“Then you better call Thomas for more cash because I need to switch these twenties and fifties to hundreds. Get the ice buckets first. I’ll find Thomas,” I told her and flipped up the trap door to step behind the bar. “Go.”
She nodded but kept a frown on her face as she walked away, another thing I didn’t give a fuck about. The same way I pocketed all the tips from every beer and every shot and cocktail I poured while she took her sweet- ass time getting me buckets of ice.
“Ice and buckets,” she snarled when she returned.
“Thanks.” I flashed a wide smile at her scowl. “That’s not the face of someone looking to make money tonight. You might want to work on that.”
I shoved the credit card slips to be signed in my apron pocket, stuck the bottles in ice and hauled the buckets over to the party.
“Someone ordered Dom to celebrate the big day tomorrow?”
The group was drunk as fuck but friendly, clapping loudly and grabbing the buckets before they were even set down.
“Where are the flutes?” The woman in the bride sash whined.
“I only got two hands, sweetheart. I’ll be back with them in a sec.”
“Perfect,” she smiled and rested her head on the guy in the Groom bib. “Thank you.”
“Champagne flutes for the wedding party.” Thomas appeared out of nowhere, looking dapper and handsome, with a tray full of glassware and a smile. The ladies swooned, and the men sat a little taller, not wanting to be overshadowed by a silver fox.
“Thanks, Thomas, but I was on my way back to get them.”
“I know, but it seems you’ve pissed off Samantha.”
“Fuck Samantha, the idiot was trying to give me the cheap shit. Besides, she has to change out my tips.”
“Don’t cause trouble, Mo. Please.”
“Who, me?” I blinked innocently, barely able to hold back a smile. “I’m not. Jasper wanted to make sure your new hires were competent, and I just gave her a few tips, which apparently pissed her off.”
Thomas sighed, and I felt bad because I knew he’d rather be in the hospital at Sadie’s side instead of here playing referee for bitchy waitresses like me. “I’ll come with you.”
“Fine.”
My feet ached from going up and down the levels in four-inch heels, but the pain, along with the ass grabbing and innuendo, had made me a little cranky. There was still another hour left before the club closed, and I already had six grand in my pocket. That made it easy to forget about the pain. And the annoyance. Fuck yeah, it did.
Instead of snapping at Samantha, I thought about the cinnabar-gold Bottega Veneta mini tote I’d had my eye on and would be buying first thing tomorrow. Maybe a pair of shoes to go with it.
When the bar closed and was mostly empty except for a few stragglers, I went in search of Jasper to see if he had anything else for me to do before I left. Yeah, okay, maybe I wanted to see if he wanted another fuck. I knew what I said earlier and what I vowed, but I was a weak bitch and a horny one, and he was my very own fantasy come to life.
I spotted him across the back bar on the first floor, his dark head visible above the others even as he leaned in to talk to someone. A couple bikers finished off their whiskeys and, when they left, it was like the goddamn sea had parted, only except for providing safe passage, the sea kicked me right in the chest. Jasper leaned over, wearing a smile—a real fucking smile—for that FBI bitch. The one who had caused so much fucking trouble for the Ashby family and anyone associated with them.
I shook my head in disbelief at first, but as I watched Agent Beck smile up at him, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the club, my thoughts turned to disgust.
I wondered if Beck was the type of woman Jasper liked, all fresh-faced with a successful, legitimate career. Even her boxy black and white suits didn’t seem to turn him off because he was clearly flirting with her, using his big body and masculine scent to make her brain fuzzy.
He was gonna fuck her; I knew it.
Instead of going over to see if he needed anything, I took one step backward and then another, and another, until I could no longer see either of them. Fuck that. I shrugged off my disappointment and went in search of Hulu, my ride home for the night.
At least I had a few grand in my pocket for a serious session of retail therapy in the morning.
Chapter Seven
Jasper
I should’ve been happy that Lucky Lopez was doing so well. Not only was it Sadie’s pet project, but a legit successful enterprise meant it would be a hell of a lot easier to clean the dirty cash without raising suspicion from the law. And I was happy about that, but the club was at capacity, which made me nervous. Anything could happen, and with a mixed crowd like this one, some shit was guaranteed to go down.