One shot became two, and two became four. I could see my manager already giving me looks, so I made it seem as if I was actually putting it on her tab. I went over to the register and punched it in, sighing as I looked at the total. My mother had already racked up close to thirty dollars in drinks I knew she wouldn’t pay for, and if I wasn’t careful, that bill would come out of my paycheck.
She tossed it back and swallowed it down. I saw her eyes scanning the crowd, probably looking for that hot piece of young ass she had her hands on earlier. He was standing in the corner with some other woman, and I saw the fire in my mom’s eyes flare up. This poor boy had no idea whose attention he had attracted, and I found myself watching as my mother drunkenly stumbled over to him.
But my entertainment was interrupted by a voice I wanted to hear.
“Mom at it again?” Lindy asked.
“Sweet fuck, I didn’t know you were working tonight.”
I threw my arms around my best friend before drinks started being called out for us to mak
e.
“Mackie called in sick, so here I am. And not a moment too soon, I see.”
Her eyes were looking over at my mother who had slipped herself between the young girl and the guy who had his hands on her earlier.
“That poor boy doesn’t know what he’s in for,” I said.
“Maybe she won’t cause a scene tonight,” Lindy said.
“My mother causes a scene every fucking night,” I said as I started grabbing drinks. “It’s just what happens.”
“So! Where are we with our clothing store bank account?” Lindy asked, trying to steer my mind away from my mother and her drama.
“Once you make your deposit for the month, we can start looking around for shops to buy.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she asked. “We’re there? Finally?”
“Yep. Checked the account yesterday when I made a deposit. Between the two of us, we’ve raised one hundred and thirty thousand dollars.”
“Once I make my deposit,” she said.
“Yep. Once you do that,” I said, grinning.
Lindy was going in with me on the clothing store. We were best friends since we were in middle school. At the bar, she was another under-aged girl who looked decent in a tight leather top and short-shorts, which meant she would rake in tips as well as men who would come to drink our disgusting concoctions. She loved the idea of an affordable biker-wear store, especially since leather jackets and the lace-up shoes were always so damn expensive everywhere.
The two of us had worked our asses off to save up the money we had. We never splurged on ourselves, and never spent a penny that didn’t need spending. We didn’t have credit cards, and we drove piece of shit cars that barely got us to and from our jobs. That’s the only way we’d been able to save up so much money in only two years. Well, that, and the money Lindy always seemed to accumulate from her various boyfriends over the years. She was a trooper.
Lindy was also the girl who could fix anything, from busted up laces and beat-up motorcycle helmets, all the way to motorcycles themselves. If it was in the biker world, she could fix it. I wanted her not only as someone I could trust to help run the place but as someone who could help open the patch shop I would eventually implement.
“You girls still talkin’ about that stupid shop?”
And my mother was back.
“Hello, Gracie,” Lindy said.
“Your top’s too tight,” my mother said.
“No luck with the guy in the corner?” I asked.
“Cock’s too small.”
“Fuck, Mom. Seriously?” I asked.
“You fucking asked. Keep your mouth shut if you don’t wanna know.”
“And yes, we were talking about the shop,” Lindy said.