Strong Enough (9 page)

“Gretchen has service window and I have been
grabbing most of the bar top. If you want, I will take northside so
you can keep your station and an eye on the door,” Stormy hollered
from across the bar.

“Sounds good to me Storm,” I yelled back. I
get along pretty well with Gretchen and Stormy that’s why I
schedule them to work with me. I have a few other bartenders that I
prefer to keep my distance from more for their sake of me not bitch
slapping them.

I take a quick count of who is on my side of
the bar top. Running down the line, I make sure that everyone has a
drink in hand. The few spots still open on my side quickly get
filled as what seems like an entourage comes in and they fill not
only the bare spots but the table that is right next to the bar. I
have been doing this long enough to know how to handle these
groups.

A tall guy, decent looking, longer dark hair
and clean cut steps up to the bar. I hear an accent as he starts to
put in an order. “Can I get two Jack and cokes, two vodka tonics,
three Budweiser’s and a glass of water?” His accent is definitely
from the east coast as his pronunciation of water was not of the
norm for Texas.

I line the drinks up in front of him. “Want
to open a tab or close out?” I asked totaling the cost up for him.
“Leave it open babe.”
Great, ugh, so not your
babe

“Will be happy to leave it open but if you
want service on it you might want to call me by my name because
last I checked we’re not dating and I definitely am not your babe,”
was the snippy response I spouted out before my brain could catch
up to my mouth.

The bewildered look he gave me almost made
me chuckle. Not sure if it was what I said or the fact that I had
something to say at all was what was confusing him.

“Yeah, um sorry, habit.” Was all he said as
he handed me his credit card.

“Name is Reece and I will respond to it, and
only it.” Smiling as to not piss him off.

“You’re feisty, I like that.” His grin was
one I see on a daily basis.
Men!

“Feisty is an understatement for me, but if
that’s what you want to go with, doesn’t matter to me. Let me know
if you need anything else,” was all I said as I head down the bar
to check on more customers.

Standing a few feet down from where I left
Mr. East Coast,
should have read his name on
the credit card
, I see him walk in and flash his smile.
Short black hair pushed to the middle of his head and spiked up,
deep purple v neck shirt clinging to the massive things he must
call arms attached to him. Scanning lower I see his dark jeans are
loose fitting around his waist but hug what must be very muscular
legs that bring his, eh, six foot tall frame up to the bar. His
chocolate eyes scan the room and stop when he sees me staring.
CRAP IM STARING
. Realization of what
I am doing hits me, and I turn to mix up the shots the customer in
front of me had ordered.
Don’t turn and look,
don’t turn and look
. Turning and looking, yep he’s still
looking as Mr. East Coast tries to get my attention.

Finishing with the customer I was with, I
walk back toward Mr. East Coast and am unsure how to react to the
other one’s eyes are following me. There is something about him
that is familiar but I’m not sure why. I’m pretty sure I would
remember someone that looks like him if I had met him before.

“What can I get ya?” I sound a little too
chipper greeting Mr. East Coast with a smile. It is obvious he has
the same thought to my chipperness as he shakes his head a bit to
suggest he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Reece, my friend would like a…” pausing to
face him, we both see a look of recognition in his face when he
hears my name.

“Umm, vodka water, two limes,” is all he
says as he continues to stare. It is obvious he is just as curious
as both Mr. East Coast and me but he doesn’t say anything.

Reaching down I grab a rocks glass and make
the vodka, water and squeeze the two limes as I hand it over.
Pausing, he takes the glass from me and looks very closely at my
eyes. His face relaxes as his smile widens and his chocolate eyes
almost dance.
Good god take me
now.

I’m not sure how to respond so I do what any
normal person would do, I walk away. Ok maybe not the normal thing
to do, but it’s normal for me. I don’t do awkward.

I’m not sure what to do with myself. I can
feel his eyes following the back of me as I find things to do on
the north side of the bar. Stormy looks at me puzzled, and my reply
look matches hers. At this point, I just don’t know what to do with
myself. This guy is staring me down, and for the first time in a
really long time, I want to stare back. But I am not sure why.
Looking at him, I feel like I know him. Something calms me when I
see him.

Caught up in thought I didn’t see Stormy
walk over. “Girl, you have an admirer, and one I wouldn’t mind
admiring myself if I may add. That boy is H.O.T why are you over
here acting like you have something to do on my side when you
clearly need to be over there talking it up with him. Hell I will
cover your side AND my side if you want to talk to him for a bit. I
have watched him since he walked in and he has not taken his eyes
off of you. Do you know him?”

“That’s just it Storm, I don’t think I know
him, but yet, shit, I feel like I do when I look at him. It’s
freaking me the fuck out. And him staring at me is only making
things worse. I am two seconds from saying fuck this and
leaving.”

“Oh no you aren’t Reece, you know as well as
I do that you and guys don’t um, mesh well. But girl, this boy is
seriously into you and in record time. Has he talked to you yet?
Gotten a piece of the Reese charm? I am gonna have to say no
otherwise he would not still be standing there.” She laughs and
nudges my shoulder to let me know she is playing with me.
Unfortunately, here jokes are the truth. I don’t react well to
guys. I give attitude in an attempt to flirt. Let’s face it I don’t
flirt at all.

“No I haven’t spoken directly to him. I, um,
shit Stormy I don’t know what to say!” The fear in my voice could
be heard by anyone sitting in ear shot.

“Geez Reese it’s not rocket science, just
walk over there put your hand out and say Hi, I’m Reese and you
are… and then shut up.”

With a fit of frustration and a little bit
of a ‘your right attitude’ I throw my hands up and land them back
on my hips as I look her square in the eyes. “Seriously Stormy, if
it was THAT easy for me, don’t you think I would have a boyfriend
by now?”

“Please Reese, your lack of a boyfriend has
nothing to do with your inability to talk to the opposite sex, it
has more to do with your hatred of them. They are NOT all alike,
maybe this one is different?” Her shoulders flex upwards as she
gives a sheepish questionable look.

I really cannot argue with her on this one.
I have been given interest plenty of times. And I think guys are
hot and I am attracted to them, but that’s as far as it goes. My
only attempt at a boyfriend in the last five years was Chris and
well, that did not work out one bit, but I’m sure it was my fault,
or at least his story says it is. It doesn’t matter though, because
Stormy is right.

She is standing there staring at me and
without being noticed, or at least I hope he didn’t notice, I look
out the corner of my eye to see that he is still standing at the
bar, and even though he is talking to Mr. East Coast, he continues
to glance my direction. I’m either going to have to walk over there
and introduce myself or fire Stormy, and well, I can’t fire her, at
least not for this, which leaves me with no choice.

Deep breath in, a curt smile to Stormy, and
I turn and head back to my station where he is standing, his right
arm bent and resting on the bar with his drink in the same hand.
His body weight shifted all to the right which is causing every
single muscle in his arm to flex to hold him up. His quiet demeanor
can be seen as the only person I have seen him address or talk to
is Mr. East Coast. The moment he realizes I am walking toward him
he shifts his weight to rotate and face the bar head on, right in
my direction. My back tenses and my mouth clenches as I wring my
hands together to either get rid of the sweat or just have
something to do with them. No one has ever affected me this way
before.

I pause when I hit my station and reach out
to extend my hand but quickly grab a shaker. He reacted for a
second to almost extend his hand until he saw me change course.
With no order to be made I mix up a couple shots and start giving
away drinks simply to keep my hands busy.
Well
hell, need to remember to add those to the spill
sheet.

After four rounds of free shots have been
handed out and customers are really happy I glance at Stormy who is
giving me a very evil eye. Rolling my own eyes because I know she’s
right, I look back at him and stick my hand out in his direction,
waiting for him to take it. Time must have come to a stop because
he is looking at my hand and me for what seems like an eternity and
still not taking it to shake.

Defeated, I start to retract my hand as I
look away only to be brought back to attention when I feel his warm
hand slip into mine. The minute his skin touches mine my whole body
warms. The subtle up and down movement of our hands causes me to
forget to speak. His feel seems very familiar, safe. He smiles but
doesn’t say anything. I can feel a smile pull to my lips but I
force it back.
Now or never chick, what’s it
gonna be?

“Hi, names Reece and you are…” I pause for a
response.

His head tilts to the left as he turns his
head ever so slightly in the same direction. His chisel jaw line
lends to a very kissable neck.
Did I just think
kissable neck?
His eyes are focused on me but he has yet
to speak. If he doesn’t say something soon I am not only taking my
hand back, but I am leaving the bar.

“Why aren’t you smiling?” His question
throws me off. I’m still waiting to hear his name as his voice
echoes in my head. I feel like I have heard it before. The southern
drawl pulls at me from a deep place. His words roll over and over
in my head as I try and remember where I have heard his voice
before.

“Um, didn’t know I wasn’t.” Was all I could
come up with.

“Nope you aren’t, you almost look like
you’re pissed at me or at someone.”

My irritation has just hit mega high levels.
And for that you better be damn straight I am not smiling. I hate
it when people ask why I’m not smiling. If I have something to
smile at I will. You can’t tell me people walk around all day 24/7
constantly smiling. If they do, they are stupid.

I attempt to retract my hand but he grasps
it tighter to hold.

“Why are you trying to get away? I only
asked a question.”

“And why are you avoiding telling me your
name and instead being rude?”

“I wasn’t avoiding anything, I was asking a
question based on an observation I made of you,” he says as he
continues to hold my hand.

I still am trying to remember where I have
heard his voice before. Just like his feel, it is calming to
me.

“Ok Reese, you win, you don’t have to answer
my question.” His southern charm fighting to show through as the
side of his mouth curls into a slight smile. “But I will say, you
are even prettier when you do smile.” A twinkle dances in his eye
as he leans in and kisses the very top of my hand before he
releases it.

I pull my hand back and rest it on the lip
of the ice bin directly below me. I have seen charm and I have seen
flirting, but I have never had both done to me at the same time.
Flustered, it doesn’t register that he still has not told me his
name.

His back is now to me as he turned to talk
to Mr. East Coast, who is facing me and has the silliest grin on
his face while looking at me. Scrunching the right side of my upper
lip up at him I let out a little “huh” and turn around and walk
toward Stormy.

“Ok Storm, I am tired already of the games,
men suck.”

“Reese, girl, that boy is hot for you. Did
you see the way he kissed your hand?”

“Stormy, he won’t tell me his name. He
thinks it’s a fucking game. I don’t play games. And the kiss on the
hand, as swoonish as it was, still, a game.”

“You will see Reese, you’ll see,” was all
she said as she went back to tending to her customers.

As the night goes on, I catch him looking at
me with that same upturned smile. I haven’t said anything else to
him and he simply puts his glass on the bar when he wants it
refilled. Mr. East Coast on the other hand is full of talk. I am
trying desperately to ignore him but my interaction is still
required.

One thing I love about the bar is that I can
find ways to keep myself busy and not pay attention when attention
doesn’t need to be paid. At this moment, my attention does not need
to be paid to the southern gentlemen that doesn’t want to tell me
his name and instead sees it as a game that he has continued to
play all night.

“Ms. Reese, would you come here for a
minute?” Mr. East Coast chimes.

“What can I get for you this time?” A little
bit of irritation slips out so I quickly smile.

“I actually was hoping you could settle a
bet between us.” He motioned between himself and the hot guy I
still don’t know a name to.

“Oh yeah? And what kind of bet would that
be?”

“Well, I told my friend here that there was
not much that could be done to get you to go out with him.”

Great, now I am not just a mind game but
turning into a real game? Mr. East Coast is right, at this point I
don’t want to go out with anyone, especially someone that won’t
tell me his name.