Thankfully, I knew a paramedic, and she was able to hook me up with the good drugs that calmed my belly down long enough for me to finish my shift.
What didn’t help is the next damn day my parents went out of town, and I’d woken up with the worst stomach ache known to man, and weakness so bad that I’d only been capable of calling in to work and nothing else.
The next two days were the most miserable of my life.
I couldn’t eat. Barely could drink. Didn’t have the energy to do much of anything but lie there and pretend I wasn’t going to expire.
It was day four, now.
I’d just finished up my half a shift that I’d worked to ease back in, and now I was standing outside a titty bar.
I gave the man standing guard outside my cover charge and walked through the doors, amazed as hell again at the beauty of my surroundings.
The place looked straight out of the set of Aladdin. All draperies, comfy oversized pillows on the sofas. Tables and bars that were so ornate that it didn’t fit at all into the Texas scene.
Then there was the woman behind the bar.
The place was slow.
I imagined that was normal for so early in the night.
She looked upset, though, and I couldn’t help but frown at her as I walked her way.
She didn’t notice me at first, and I realized why when I sidled up to the open bar stool at the end of the bar nearest the wall.
“I just love when I can smell a guy’s colon in the air after he leaves,” the girl at the opposite side of the bar said, sounding breathless and flustered.
Amelia’s eyes turned from the glass that she was polishing to me. They were sparkling with mirth.
That sparkle dimmed a bit at the sight of me.
I instantly felt my tummy remind me of what I’d gone through the last few days and wondered why the thought of her hadn’t crossed my mind.
It should have.
Once I was once again thinking coherently, I’d started to search for her number, and quickly realized that I didn’t have it. And without notifying the people that were protective of her, I wouldn’t be getting it without finding her myself.
“I think you mean cologne?” Amelia suggested, her eyes flicking to me and away again.
“No, his colon. I think he was wearing that stuff that you can get at Dillard’s. It’s called Black,” the girl continued.
“Umm.” Amelia licked her lips. “A colon is the thing in your body that helps you shit. I’m fairly sure that you don’t mean colon.”
The girl’s lips opened in an O.
I rolled my eyes, and Amelia reluctantly walked my way.
She looked as if she’d rather lick the bar top than talk to me.
She crossed her arms defensively over her chest and said, “What can I get you?”
A topless chick walked up with some billowy pants on, but I never took my eyes away from my target.
“A beer to start.” I paused, rethinking that. “Actually, maybe just a water.”
She walked forward and grabbed a glass, bringing it to the gun that was next to her hand and filling it with water. Seconds later she handed it to me.
“You didn’t call.” She sounded cute all angry.
I leaned both of my elbows onto the bar top in front of me and grinned.
“I don’t have your number,” I pointed out. “How would I have called you?”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it right back shut.
“Oh.”
I grinned. “I had food poisoning also. I would’ve come sooner but I couldn’t be that far from my toilet for a while.”
She started snickering. “Where did you eat that gave you food poisoning?”
I grimaced.
“My partner on shift that day wanted Taco Hell.” I paused. “I’ll never, not ever, go there again. I don’t care if I’m starving. It’s not ever happening.”
She slowly turned her head, her face filled with amusement.
But before she could say anything more, another woman—this one fully clothed like Amelia—entered behind the counter and walked up to Amelia. “I’m here. Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
Her eyes raked over me, and Amelia stepped into the path of the woman’s gaze. “You’re not just late. You’re over two hours late, and I’m leaving shortly. I’m out of here tomorrow, Tomi. I can’t teach you anything if you don’t get here to learn.”
Tomi didn’t look like she cared. “I know how to bartend.”
“You don’t know how to bartend here, though,” Amelia said. “Lynn won’t keep you if you can’t do what he wants, trust me on that.”
“Then maybe you should just stay.” She paused. “Oh, wait. You can’t. Because you punched a customer, and now everyone has to work double-time to protect your ass from unruly fans that want to scratch your face off.”
Tomi sounded like a real bitch.