Stuck On You (5 page)

“Sure, Bob, let’s run down it one more time. I’ve got it started but . . .” He raised his eyebrows at the impatient look on Bob’s face. Bluffing was the only thing that would work here.

Bob’s eyes narrowed as he held up a hand and started ticking off the to-do list. “Move the front tables back. Take down the electronic display. Remove or dim some of the lights on the bar. Add curtains. Set up the area on the side for musicians. Wire plugs for the three monitors and run cords for the cameras on the stage.”

KT couldn’t scribble furiously while Bob recapped their conversation from the night before so he did his best to commit it to memory and then said, “Right, I’m pretty sure I got all that and then I added some things for the green room and the styling areas. It’s under control.”

Bob watched him suspiciously for a minute. KT normally had fabulous luck. It figured that the one time he needed Bob to repeat everything twice, a bad habit that popped up when he was stressed, which appeared to be all the time, he contented himself with one time only.

“I’m about to have lunch. Want to join me? I hear the peanut butter and banana sandwich is excellent here, Elvis’s favorite and all.” KT plastered on the widest, fakest smile he could and knew that Bob wasn’t buying it.

He narrowed one eye. “Hell, no. I’ll be in my room, waiting for the stage to be set up so that we can get to work. We need to
get to work
.” He emphasized the last three words and it sounded a bit like he was grinding his teeth.

“I’m on it. No worries.” KT held the smile as long as he could but as soon as Bob stomped into the lobby, he sighed and rested his elbows on the bar. Laura slid a fresh drink in the place of his barely touched first one as he scribbled as quickly as he could the list Bob had just run down.

“You missed one.”

KT rubbed his forehead then grabbed the Coke and drank the whole thing down. When he clapped the glass back on the bar, he tapped it twice on the rim. “Hit me again.”

She laughed and went for a refill. He read down his list while he waited for her return. When she slid the glass on the counter and then yanked her arm back like she was afraid to get caught by a rabidly thirsty man, he shook his head. “All right. I don’t see it. What am I forgetting?”

“The three plugs for the monitors.” She walked down to pick up a plate from the pass and then returned to slide a towering club sandwich on wheat with a mound of fries on the side over his mess. “Eat. Hand me the list. I’ll add it.”

He tried to pretend that this was exactly what he expected and then repeated “monitor plugs” over and over in his head so that he could try to remember to add it in case she decided to write down something like
get your head out of your ass
instead. He maneuvered the sandwich to his mouth and took a bite as he considered that point. She’d probably go with butt. That seemed more ladylike and he got the feeling, showgirl getup notwithstanding, that she tried to do the ladylike thing when given a choice. That was too bad.

She slid the list back over and he could see that she’d very neatly penned
wire plugs for monitors
at the top of the list. She’d also added numbers down the side to prioritize the list. And corrected his spelling of “electronic.”

“Sometimes when I write too fast, I skip a letter.” He grabbed a fry and shoved it in his mouth. He had no idea why it mattered to him that this woman understand that he did know how to spell. No one pursued KT Masters because of his spelling skills. But with her, it mattered somehow.

She wiped down the bar. “Yeah, me too. And Tony probably wouldn’t have had any trouble figuring that out but it can save you some trouble down the road. So just in case . . .” Her words trailed off and she studiously avoided meeting his stare.

“Thanks.” He attempted another bite of his sandwich and washed it down with half a glass of soda. “You seem to be a pretty good organizer for a waitress.”

“In my opinion, good lists are the first step to accomplishing any goal.” Her lips twitched. “Besides, I prefer showgirl. It’s a role I never thought I’d play.”

“As a little girl, you didn’t dream of wearing hot pink, sequins, and feathers? What a disappointment you must have been to your parents.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, I was teasing you. I’m sorry. It sounded like me being an asshole again. God.” He rubbed his forehead. “I have more trouble talking to you than I have in . . . ever. I’ve never been an asshole twice in two days before.”

“I have a very hard time believing that.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward against the bar. “Don’t worry. I actually gave you the benefit of the doubt and came to the right conclusion this time. You meant that I probably dreamed of being a teacher or a veterinarian or something like that, instead of waiting tables in fishnets. And you were right. But I still disappointed my parents. ” Her shoulders slumped. “And that was before the fishnets even entered my life.”

KT took another bite and chewed for a minute before he acknowledged there was no way to recover from that gracefully. And now, instead of pissed off, she was sad. He didn’t like the change. He liked the laugh better. Or even the smile she fought back. But failing those, he’d rather see pissed-off, hot tempered, and ready to fight than sad. Sad made him want to promise her things. With a mental shrug he said, “I’ve always wanted to see hot pink satin and sequins balled up beside my bed. Want to go disappoint them again?”

When she slowly blinked at him, he glanced around the bar to see if the audience for his coming set down was as large as the night before. There were only two other tables filled so no. That was a good thing.

He expected a hiss, maybe a growl, and unintelligible invective hurled at his head in rage. Instead, she gave a strangled snort and started to giggle. Eventually, deep belly laughs escaped as she leaned weakly against the bar. He smiled and relaxed a bit as he finished his sandwich. When she finally regained control, she took his glass to refill it. She set it down weakly and said, “Thanks. I needed that.”

Privately, KT was sure she needed a little bit more than that but he’d managed to escape a near-death experience and had gotten things back on track.

“You need to loosen up a little. Do you work every day, every shift?”

“I usually work both shifts three days a week, but Willodean’s asked me to work a few extra shifts until Almost Famous is over.” She muttered, “Wish I’d known what a jerk the producer was going to be before I said yes.”

KT wiped his mouth and balled up his napkin. “Yeah, me too. I prefer fawning toadies, thanks.”

She smiled. “Too bad for you, I guess. You’re going to be attention deprived before the day is over.”

He waved a finger around. “Is it always like this? Is this the quiet before the storm?”

“No idea. I’ve only been here about four months. Sal says the crowds on Friday and Saturday will be crazy, but this seems pretty normal.” She shook her head. “Well, except for Kim Kardashian over in the corner. That’s not a normal Wednesday.”

KT glanced over his shoulder at the . . . could-be-a-woman-but-was-probably-a-man at the table in the corner before he raised an eyebrow at Laura. “Don’t you wonder what her talent will be?”

She did a strangled snorting laugh and he felt the flutter in the pit of his stomach. It was pleasure. He got the feeling she didn’t laugh like that often. The fact that it embarrassed her was his first clue. It was damn cute. The light flush on her face spread down to her chest and he started to feel a little hot under the collar too.

“So, what did you do before four months ago? How in the world did you land in the most Elvisy of all Elvis shrines?”

“Shouldn’t you be working?” She picked up his plate and slid it into a bin under the counter.

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes, but I don’t like to. So talk to me.” In a singsong, he added, “I’m a very generous tipper.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Fine. Before I slid into the showgirl costume, I was unemployed for a long time. And before that, because I know you’ll ask, I was an executive assistant for one of the bankers here in Memphis.”

“You went from yawn to bright lights and va-va-voom. That’s gotta be an adjustment.”

She nodded. “Especially since I’m such a big fan of yawn.”

He looked down at his neatly numbered list and then at the precision with which she lined up all the bottles, napkins, and containers on the bar. Everything was neat, clean, and in logical order. She must drive her co-workers nuts. He looked at his scattered stack of papers and wondered whether her fingers were itching to categorize, alphabetize, and/or laminate. He also wished he’d gotten just the tiniest bit of that urge. But he hadn’t.

She glanced up at the clock and tossed her folded towel down. “And my time is up until the dinner shift.” She pulled a ticket out of her tiny satin apron and handed it to him. “Go ahead and add your large tip while I get you another Coke.”

He took the slip of paper and weighed his options. He could tell she was anticipating some response regarding his large tip, probably off-color, shocking, and if he had to guess, she had a ready comeback. So instead he just murmured, “Yes, ma’am.” Keeping her off balance was fun.

She frowned first but then went down to refill his cup. She plopped it down in front of him. “Marcy’ll be here to take care of anything else you need.” She tilted her head to the side and waited.

KT just nodded and handed her the signed ticket. The twenty-dollar tip made her eyes light up. It was a good look for her. “That’s for last night too. I realized after I left that I didn’t pay for or tip you for the drinks. Insult to injury, right?”

She looked ready to argue for just a minute. But she thought better of it. “Thank you, Mr. Masters. Now maybe I can afford to replace my feather.” One corner of her mouth tilted up.

He shuddered. “If you must, but please call me KT. I expect to be on a first-name basis with everyone who shouts at me.”

She nodded. “I’ll let Marcy know I’m heading out. She can check on you.”

He waved a hand. “Don’t bother. I’m going to go see what I can find out about prop storage around Memphis. Busy, busy, busy. No rest for the wicked.” He raised his eyebrows and waited for her to take her best shot at that setup.

When she only pursed her lips and nodded, he frowned. That was one of the problems with smart women. They knew how to keep a man off balance too.

She waved his ticket. “Okay. Um, if you need some help with that, I might know a guy.”

“Really?” Getting help was a really attractive idea. He hadn’t counted on how hard it would be to line up everything they needed in towns he didn’t know. Or how demanding his director might be.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He stacked his untouched receipts up and slid everything back into the folder that was starting to feel like an extension of his arm. “You’ll be back at dinner? Maybe we could talk then?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’ll be back. Depending on the crowd, I may not have much time but if you need help, I’m off tomorrow.”

“Why would you help me?”

She shook her head sadly. “Someone needs to.”

He snorted. “Girl, you said a mouthful there.”

She nodded and then turned to walk back down the bar. At the end, she stopped to talk to the tall curvy blonde that was clearly the friendly Marcy everyone was telling him about. Laura shot a quick glance over her shoulder and then disappeared down a hallway behind the bar.

KT finished off the last of his soda as he tried to clear his head. She was a distraction and usually he ran as fast as he could toward distraction but he was trying the whole new-leaf lifestyle, one of serious work and clean living. Except for French fries. And Coke. Maybe a fresh-faced waitress wouldn’t set him back too far.

Chapter Three

A
S THE DINNER
rush accelerated into full swing, Laura couldn’t help but keep one eye out for KT Masters. When he appeared, she realized it had been dumb to worry that he might sneak in without her knowing. The place was packed for a Wednesday and it was a strange mix of celebrity impersonators and serious, suited business people. Lucky, the usual emcee for the Almost Famous contest, had a stupid running patter going between Elvis songs and the kitchen was already backed up. She straightened her headdress and rubbed her arm against her brow just as she turned to see KT sweep in majestically.

“Jailhouse Rock” ended and Lucky unnecessarily called everyone’s attention to KT as he waited for the hostess to seat him.

“Well, lookee here, everybody. It’s world-famous KT Masters, little Toby Thompson from
On Deck
.” Laura could hear the slur in Lucky’s voice and glanced over at the bartender to make sure she heard it too. The first slur of the evening was their sign to switch Lucky’s drink of choice. For the rest of the night, he was looking at a steady diet of ginger ale. When she nodded, Laura went back to watching the spectacle in the doorway.

When KT leaned down to speak to Lacey, the hostess, he pointed in Laura’s direction. Lacey looked apologetic as she probably explained that every table was filled in Laura’s section but he pointed to a chair and a small table in the very dark corner of the stage. The wait staff usually used it for trays and dirty dishes but it was empty. Laura tried to imagine what would drive an attention hog like KT to sit in the quietest corner in the place. Then she remembered her offer to help if he needed it. KT Masters was a man who clearly needed it.

She carefully weaved in and out of traffic to carry a Coke over and set it down in front of him. “I hope you wanted the usual.” She meant it to sound like a light-hearted question. The crack on the end made her sound more like a boy hitting puberty but KT just picked up the glass and drank while he held up one finger. Laura smiled as she glanced impatiently over her shoulder at her other tables.

When he set the glass down with a sigh, she asked, “What would you like for dinner?”

They waited for the microphone feedback and Lucky’s patter about “It’s Now or Never” to die down before he could answer. “I could go for a steak, I think. To celebrate.”