“Orders up,”Hiram announced, setting a small serving tray on the table.
“Your bourbon,top-shelf as requested.Your sodawater, Mr. Brennan.” Hiram placed a bottle in front of Shanealong with a bowl of sliced limes. “Andhere’s your Manhattan.” Nonetoo gently, he droppeda chipped cocktail glass in front of Trudy.While itrattled into place, Hiram grabbed his tray from the table,andthen waited.
“Put it on my tab,Hiram.” Trudy fingered her glass, but didn’t imbibe.
“You don’t havea tab.” Hiram pickedat a piece of imaginary lent on his sleeve.
“Mr. Josephson wantsall performers to pay their bills up front.”
Trudy’s mouth fellopen so fast, she dropped her cigarette.
“Idon’t remember that being inthe contract,”she said, salvaging the square before it burned a hole in thetablecloth.
“I guess I shouldspeak to him about this.” Trudy moved to stand.
“Did you read yourcontract?”
Celeste doubted it. Trudyhated the business side of entertainment.Hercousin’spoor business acumen had resulted in a half a dozen bad dealsand barely anything to show for the money she’d made over theyears.
Hiram stepped back, daringTrudy to call his bluff. A stare down ensued, but her cousin retained her seat. Throughgritted teeth she asked, “How much?”
“It’ll be twobits for the soda water, a buck and a half for the bourbon, and twobucks for the Manhattan.”
“Two bucks?”Trudy screwed her nose up at her cocktail. “Did you walk acrossthe George Washington Bridgeto New Jerseyfor the cherry?”
“The Manhattan is oneof our most popular drinks,” Hiram justified. “It alsoconsists of two liquors. The more liquor the higher the price.”
Tired of their back andforth, Celeste reached inside her purse. Before she could settletheir portion of the bill, Shane handed Hiram a twenty dollar bill.
“This is for thedrinks on the table and any others during the course of the evening. The rest you can keep for yourself.”
“Thank you kindly,sir.” Hiram folded the bill in half, and then shoved it intohis vest pocket.
“I don’t knowwhy you tipped that old goat,” Trudy admonished Shane as shestoodup. “SinceI’m pretty sure my cocktail came with equal parts Vermouth andspit,I’m going to go on back stage and get ready.”
Celeste’s heart racedat the idea of being left alone with Shane, but not in a good way. On the edge of panic, she rose from her seat.
“Do you need anyhelp?”
Trudywaved her back down. “I’vedressed myself for more than thirty years. I think I can handle thison my own.”
“Are you sure? I don’tmind helping out.”
“Stay and entertainour new friend. You wouldn’t want some floozy stealing himfrom you would you? A guy like him in a place like this is bound toattract themlike flies to buttermilk.”
With a sinking heart,Celeste watched her one and only buffer walk away.
“Don’t worry Idon’t bite.” To Celeste’s horror, Shane moved overand took Trudy’s seat,bridging the distance between them. “Not on the first date anyway.”
Celeste cheeks bloomedwith heat and a shiver cut a path down her spine. Whatwas wrong with her? Where was her usual moxie? She tied guys likehim into knots for fun, not cower like a shrinking violet.
Celeste willed herself to betransported away. Zeroing in on Michael Stuckey and his plaintiveappeal wrapped up in a seductive riff, Celeste rested her chin in herpalm and closed her eyes.
Not entirely foolproof, herscheme didn’t keep her from listening for hertable mate’s everysinglemove. Intruth, the harder she tried ignoring him, the more he occupied herthoughts.
Before she drove herselfcompletely off the reservation, Celeste openedher eyes and satback. Bad move. Shane was staring at her over the rim of his glass.Slowly lowering it, he smiled. Celeste gulped. Notonly did he have that devilish dent in his chin, he had a matchingset of dimples in both cheeks! Transfixed,she simplysat there likean idiot and returned his stare.
“Mind if I smoke?”
“N-n-no,”Celeste stuttered, stuckin a mental rut.
Holding her gaze, Shanepulled a cigar from his breast pocket. He ran the length of it underhis nose, and then slid the tip between his lips. Around and around,he rolled the cigar until the tip glistened. An image of him lickingand playing with her nipples popped into Celeste’s alreadyaddled brain and she groaned. She knew she should look away. Shecouldn’t help it. It was like she needed him to exist.
He reached into his pantspocket. She inhaled. He pulled out a gold plated lighter. Sheexhaled. He flicked it open, pressed the lever, lighting the cigarwith two quick puffs. She inhaled again.
Celeste even envied thesmoke caressing his face. What would it feel like touching him?Kissing him? Have his arms draped around her? For sure he’dfeel good.
And safe.
Celeste frowned. Of all thescrewy things! No man was safe. Eventually all of them let herdown. Her father taught her thelesson, whileRalph instilledit. So how did he do it? How did this human punching bag, engrainhimself under her skinin such a short time?So much so, she was sitting here fantasizing about him.
Irritated by her inabilityto completely ignore her budding attraction him, Celeste reached forher drink again. This time she drowned it in one fell swoop.
Satisfied in figurativeterms only, Celeste switched back to self-preservation mode. Ofcourse, as a precautionary measure she waved Hiram over.
“A full body of yourbest bourbon, please.” Another glass just wouldn’t do. She needed to unwind. Dull the razor’s edge she was riding.
Hiram’seyebrows rivaled his hairline. “You want a wholebottle?” His eyes skipped over to Shane, who remainedmarkedly silentand unmoved by her order.
ThisunnervedCelestemore thanHiram’sdeference. IfShanehad condemnedher for drinking like a fish on the night of her father’s wake,she would’ve given him as good as she got. Unfortunately, shedidn’tknow how to deal with indifference.
“And what of it?”she huffed with a saltier tone than was necessary.
“Nothing, MissCeleste.” Hiram smiled. “I’m here to serve notjudge.”
Justpass me the shovel and I’ll dig my own hole! Hotwith embarrassment, Celeste picked up her glass and rolled it overher cheek. Her hand shook so much, the ice clinked loudly. To makematters worse, Shane remained a passive witness through all of it.
Torture?An understatement! With each passing minute his disinterest stabbedat her conscience, plucked away her resolve and beat her down sobadly she started eyeing the exit.
She didn’t
