Two
Later that afternoon, Des returned to the bar and was glad to see that her angry sister wasn't there waiting for her. Grey, however, was.
"Where's Dex?" He asked as she took her seat.
Des shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?" Grey smiled at her, which caused Des to smile back. "You're really cute."
His brows rose in surprise, but he grinned at her in disbelief. He even chuckled a little. Des could tell he hadn't expected the response which, sure, not many people would. Des was always to the point. She never saw a need in dancing around something. Though, honestly, that practice had caused her a fair amount of trouble in her life.
"Thanks," He finally said.
Des shrugged a single shoulder. He didn't know how to react to her random statement, and she didn't expect him to.
"Drink?" He asked.
"No, thanks." She smiled. "But, I was wondering if you really did have a job available."
His brows rose a little. "Oh, yeah?"
Des nodded. "I'll sweep, I don't really care. I just need a paycheck."
He eyed her curiously. "Thought you were here on vacation?"
She didn't offer an answer. Instead, Des smiled wide, but not obnoxiously. She didn't want to scare the guy, after all. When he seemed to finally realize that she had no intentions of answering his question, Grey moved on.
"Okay, uh," He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "You bartend before?"
"Yeah," She nodded. "For about five years in Nashville."
"You've been in Tennessee?"
"Yup," And that was all she planned to say about it.
"What do you know how to make?"
"What do you want?"
He grinned and eyed her. He thought for a moment until he finally stepped out from behind the bar.
"Let's start with an Old Fashioned." Grey motioned toward the bar.
"Sure." Des did her best not to sound arrogant, but an Old Fashioned wasn't exactly a difficult drink to make.
She traded places with Grey. While he took her seat, she slipped behind the bar and went about searching for the supplies she needed. It was a little tricky given she was in new territory, but easy enough.
"You prefer syrup or a cube?" She asked as she set a glass down on the bar's surface.
"Cube," He told her.
Des gave a nod and went about making the drink. There were a dozen small steps, but each of them was easy.
A dash of bitters, both average and orange, gave her a small bit of liquid to crush the sugar cube in. After she muddled it with the bottom of a stirring spoon, Des added a splash of soda water. The rye was next, and then a large chunk of ice that she was disappointed in. Des preferred ice chunks much larger than what she had given the sort of drink she was making, but she did her best. After a twist of orange, she dropped the peel into the drink and slid it across the bar.
Grey sniffed it, twirled it from side to side so the ice shifted, and then took a sip. Des knew, rather arrogantly to be sure, that he was toying with her because she was certain her Old Fashioned was delicious.
"Not bad," He finally said. Des narrowed her eyes while a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He chuckled. "It's good."
"Thank you," she wasn't entirely sure she removed her cocky tone. "FYI, silicon muffin tins. They make nice-sized ice cubes for drinks."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Grey lifted his drink to his lips when Des was flagged down by another patron. She gave him a questioning sideways glance. He nodded and she set off down the bar to tend to the customer.
Des fell into the action easily. She hadn't tended bar for nearly a month, and she was in a new place, but the ingredients never changed. Besides, most people only wanted a beer.
Roughly an hour passed with Des behind the bar before it slowed down enough for her to approach Grey again. He hadn't moved. He was still sitting comfortably on her stool, but the Old Fashioned was gone.
"Was this an audition, or free labor?" She asked him with a smile.
"Both," He teased. "Come with me."
Grey finally stood and headed toward the back. Des followed behind him, around the tables and through a large, sliding door.
The bar was in an old warehouse, like a fair amount of bars and pubs. As a result, there was a lot of exposed brick, a lot of tall, multi-paned windows, and a lot of sliding steel doors. It was a typically iconic building in the northwest where logging was such a huge deal back in the day.
Grey's office was in the back, not far from the main belly of the bar, but deep enough into the hall that he could have some silence. Des was surprised by how efficiently the door cut off the noise when he closed it behind him.
Across from her was a desk made of industrial materials, some leather IKEA furniture to her right, a row of old school filing cabinets that lined the brick wall behind the desk, and the massive wall of windows to her left let in a lot of light. All in all, she quite liked the space.
"Go ahead," He motioned to one of the chairs across from his desk. Des took a seat while he did the same. "Want a job?"
Her brow rose. "Just like that?"
Grey shrugged a shoulder. "Why not?"
"Because you don't know anything about me. What if I'm crazy like Dex?" She joked.
"I'm kinda hoping you are." He chuckled. "Some of the people around here can get a little out of hand."
Des couldn't fight her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't tell if they were just teasing each other or flirting, but either way, she was enjoying herself.
"How long are you going to be in town?" He finally asked.
"I don't know yet."
"Well, if you want to work here for a couple weeks or something, that's fine. I can use the help."
"Really?" She was a little confused.
"Yeah." He nodded. "At least until I can find a permanent bartender."
"Well," Des leaned back in her chair. She crossed her legs and set her gaze on him. "How much does it pay?"
When he smiled again, she could see his pearly whites. It was more than a smirk, and she liked it. She wasn't lying when she said she thought he was cute. Grey was an average guy of average height with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. His beard covered most of his face, but it she could remember right, he was an adorable man –a guy with a face that made you instantly want to friend-zone him. It was a mean thing to say, but true. Grey just looked like that guy in high school that had a thousand girl friends, but no girlfriends.
Des would have dated him, though. She needed those kinds of guys to pull her back, to balance her out. Maybe that was why she was as attracted to him as she was? That and she could sense the sarcasm. Glimpses of it had peeked through in the few times they'd spoken, but Des could tell there was more lingering somewhere out of sight. She loved a guy that could keep up.
"Minimum wage plus tips." He replied.
Her brows creased a little. "I don't even know what minimum wage in Oregon is anymore."
"Little less than twelve bucks an hour."
"Oh, shit. Really?" She was a bit surprised, which seemed to surprise Grey. "It was less than eight in Tennessee." Grey's shock deepened. "Yeah, but rent is like, half."
"Fair enough." He said. Grey leaned forward and crossed his arms over the top of his desk, looking all sorts of professional when he did. "What do you say?"
"I mean, sure." She told him.
Des was willing to work for tips in a place like Bad Alibi. In Tennessee, she took home roughly ten to twenty dollars a night in tips (they pooled them at that particular bar) and nearly one hundred on the weekends. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad because she didn't rely only on that particular job to survive. So, in her mind, if she brought home that basic level of tips with three dollars more in regards to minimum wage, she'd do just fine. It wasn't as though she'd have to pay rent.
"Great," He smiled to her again which made Des do the same, though admittedly, hers was a bit more wicked than his. "When can you start?"
The flirtatious innuendos coursed through her mind and she couldn't help it.
"When do you want me?"
Grey's lips twitched as though he fought the desire to smile outright. His eyes narrowed on her, though, which told her that he heard every bit of her tone.
Des wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear him answer her because no matter what he chose to say, it would sound sexual, and he knew it, too. It didn't matter if he said now, tomorrow, or whatever else. It would still be laced with delicious undertones.
"You always like this?" He asked leadingly.
Without hesitation, Des answered, "Yes."
Grey chuckled under his breath. "How 'bout you start tomorrow?"
"Sure,"
"You okay with being paid under the table for now?"
She cocked a brow. "Sounds disreputable, sir."
He smiled at her again. "Well, I don't know how long you're staying in town." He said in a playful voice. "Otherwise I'd put you on the payroll." She mocked a sneer, silently saying, fine, be that way. "How 'bout you just fill in here and there. That work?"
"That's fine." Des leaned forward and motioned to the stack of Post-Its he had on his desk. "May I?"
Grey nodded and offered her a pen after she peeled off the top note. She quickly scribbled across the highlighter-yellow piece of paper and gave it to him.
"Here's my number." Des stood when he took the piece of paper and looked it over before he met her gaze. "Just let me know when you need me."
With a little wink, Des left the office, all the while smiling to herself. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about Grey. Whether it was a smart idea or not, she planned to sleep with him before she left town –at least once. Preferably many more times than that.
She made it through the bar with ease and with her hand on the front door, Des had nearly pushed it entirely open when she felt her pocket vibrate. She reached for her cell as she stepped out onto the street.
The number that flashed back was unfamiliar and it sent an ice-cold chill down her spine. Des instantly stopped moving. Her entire body had gone rigid, and it wasn't by choice. She was frozen out of pure, unadulterated fear. She swam in the emotion for what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a second until she noticed a very important detail. The number had a Portland area code.
Des breathed immediate relief as she answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hi, is this Desdemona Parios?" The familiar voice on the other end asked.
Des smiled and glared playfully. "May I ask who's calling?"
"This is Grey McConnell," He said. Des turned and made her way back into the bar. "I was hoping to get in touch with her."
Des made it through the internal door and saw the man himself standing behind the bar with the house phone to his ear. He met her gaze and smiled the moment he saw her.
"Oh, yeah?" She asked. "Do you know how dangerous it is to say something like that to someone like me?"
Grey's head dipped and while she couldn't see it, Des could hear him laughing through the phone. Eventually, he looked up and met her eye again.
"Can you turn everything into something sexual?"
Des finally reached the bar and ended the call. Grey did the same.
"Yes," She told him honestly. "It is a skill, I won't lie."
"Clearly,"
"So, what did you need? It's been thirty seconds. Miss me already?"
"I was just wondering if you could cover Dillon's shift tonight." He apparently decided to just ignore her question entirely, but Des could see him smiling beneath the beard. "Eight to closing."
"When's closing?"
"Two."
Des thought about it for a moment. In truth, she planned to show up, but she wanted him to wait for it.
"I suppose I can manage." She told him. "See you tonight."
"See you tonight."
And with that, Des left for the second time. As she did, she was sure to save the number in her phone.
There was one good thing about taking a shower in the bright pink and pastel green, overly-tiled bathroom of an octogenarian –the water pressure. The bathroom hadn't been touched since what had to be the Truman administration, but that was part of the beauty of it. Being the guest bathroom, it got little love, so it still had the original showerhead that would pummel you in an attempt to tear your hair off.
Des loved it. She almost didn't need shampoo because the water pressure would just spray the dirt off her scalp with the intensity of a power washer.
Bright pink and cleaner than a freshly-buffed car, Des was sure to slather herself in lotion before she grabbed her clothes. When she was dressed, Des jogged downstairs to grab her makeup bag and reached the first floor just as the front door opened. Dex eyed her sister curiously, but Ansel, who was following her in, smiled immediately.
"Desi," He said happily.
"Ansel!" Des felt infinitely better for seeing her brother and quickly wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, too. "Oh, man," She sighed. "You always give the best hugs."
"I know," He chuckled as they drew back. "I didn' know you were back."
"Just got in today."
"Hey, buddy," Dex said, drawing attention to her. "How 'bout you go put your stuff in your room, hm?"
"But I want to talk to Desi."
Dex glowered at her slightly over Ansel's head while Desi simply smiled sarcastically.
"Don't worry, man." Des said. He looked at her through the slightly-foggy lenses of his glasses. "I'm not going anywhere any time soon."
"Okay,"
With his bag full of soccer gear, Ansel headed upstairs, leaving his two sisters alone.
"You going somewhere?" Dex finally asked when she noticed that, while wearing fairly normal clothes, Des was a little dressed up.
"Work," She said.
Des didn't have to bother looking at her sister to know she was giving "The Eye". Everyone knows "The Eye". It's that judgmental look that others force on you because they're struggling to find something to say. Or, y'know, they're judging you.
Dex was still quiet as Desi plopped down onto the couch and began to withdraw her few, but trusty, makeup supplies. She'd swept the powder over her face in the places where she needed a bit of coverage, and was in the process of dipping her brush in her eyeliner when Dex appeared in front of her. Des glanced up only briefly before she returned the majority of her attention to the task at hand.
"What?"
"Where did you get a job?" Dex asked leadingly.
Des said nothing, but let a smile curl the corner of her lips. Dex knew. She had to know because the topic of a job had only been brought up once, and Dex was a smart woman.
"Goddamn it, Des." She growled. "Why?"
"What's your problem?" Desi looked up at her sister. "A job'll keep me out of your house, keep me out of your hair, and I'll have cash of my own."
"This is my life, Des." She snapped. "You can't just come here and insert yourself into my fucking life, throw it into chaos, then run off like you always do." Des glowered up at her sister. "If you fuck Grey over, I swear to God-"
"What do you think I'm going to do here?" Des snapped. "Jesus, Dex, I'm not going to go on some kind of rampage."
"You did last time."
"That was six years ago! Christ, I was like, twenty-two." Des shook her head and went back to her eyeliner. "I don't even know why you give a shit."
"I give a shit because I'm the one who actually lives here and I'm the one that always has to call in favors to get your ass out of trouble."
Desi didn't reply after that. She didn't need to get into another fight with Dex and a fight was on the horizon. They were always close by when the two of them were together. Families, basically. There was no other reason for it.
Dex seemed to be on the same page and decided to simply walk away. As she grumbled and mumbled to herself while she stepped into the kitchen, Des glanced over the edge of her mirror. She wanted to point out how many times Dex had done stupid shit when they were growing up, too. The truth was, the pair of them were more alike than either really wanted to admit. They both had trouble with fighting, drinking, and just attracting trouble. But, Dex was the oldest so she liked to pretend she was above such childish things. It was stupid, but there you go.
With her attention back on the task, Des finished doing her makeup. Right about the same time she finished slathering on some mascara, Ansel trudged heavily downstairs.
"Are you goin' somewhere?" He asked when he saw her putting her makeup away.
The sad way he asked the question genuinely hurt Des's heart. Leaving town was easy. Leaving her brother broke her. If she thought she could have taken care of the both of them, she probably would have tried to take him with her, but Dex never would've allowed it.
Des glanced to her cell phone, which was sitting on the coffee table. "In about an hour." She replied, then plastered a wide smile on her face. "I got a job."
"Where?" Ansel asked as he took a seat beside her.
"At a bar in Old Town, Bad Alibi."
Ansel lit up. "I work there, too!" He told her excitedly.
Des was surprised. She couldn't help it. Even though Ansel was more than capable, not many people seemed willing to give him the chance to prove himself. Apparently, Grey had.
"No kidding?" She asked. Still beaming with a wide smile, he nodded. "Well, maybe you can tell me, is Grey a good boss? He treat you okay?"
"Grey's a good guy." Ansel nodded. "He's my friend."
"So I don't need to kick his ass or anything?"
Ansel chuckled a little and shook his head. "No,"
"Good," Des gave a sharp nod, but smiled at her little brother.
"Hey, Desi, wanna play a video game?"
"Hm… Which one?"
He named his favorite racing game and Des immediately let out a loud, obnoxious sigh.
"But you're too good at that one!"
"I know," he smiled wide.
"You're lucky you're my favorite."
Des took the offered controller and proceeded to race her brother until it was time for her to go to work.