AN: So first day back, all that jazz…new schedules, meetings, so much excitement…not really.
All tuckered out and just in the mood to bury myself in fics…so here's an update. Two maybe if I'm feeling really enthusiastic?
As always, thank you for showering me with the love. It means so much!
Hope you enjoy.
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Andrea sighed as she heaved up the tray of empty beer mugs and abandoned shot glasses. Besides a couple of puddles of spilled drinks, there was nothing on the table and she knew that Mary Ann had made her rounds to this table already collecting the tips. Most of them, of course, would go in the jar, but she knew some went into Mary Ann's pocket and Mary Ann was much better at getting tips off the tables than she was at actually waiting on the customers. Right now she was smarming a few of the half-drunk assholes playing pool.
In all fairness, Andrea knew she wasn't playing fair either. Since Daryl was going to be living with Carol, that cut down on the income in the apartment. Between the bills and trying to pay for her classes too, Andrea was working every extra hour she could at both her jobs. She, too, was sneaking a few of her tips into her pocket and conveniently forgetting to put them in the tip jar, but it wasn't as easy when she worked with Mary Ann as it was when she worked with Loretta.
On the nights that Carol worked with her, Andrea didn't slip the tips into her pockets. Carol was her friend and she knew that the cup didn't runneth over in the household. She also knew that if Daryl and Carol were going to have a baby, they'd need the money too. She could play fair for friends but Loretta got plenty of money from the bar itself, she figured, and Mary Ann didn't need it anyway. The job was something for her to keep her parents off her back and to cover more shopping until school started back in a couple of weeks.
Andrea would be glad to see the little bitch go. That was for sure.
When Andrea returned from the kitchen from having dropped off the dishes, she saw two men come into the bar and sit at one of the end booths, closest to the door. She double stepped to get over there, sashaying her hips as much as she could without throwing one out. She was getting the fucking tip off this table one way or the other.
The men did not belong at the Watering Hole. That was obvious immediately. They weren't from Sweet Junction, either. Andrea smiled at them. Sometimes this happened. Some travel weary person would stop in, not realizing the low quality establishment that they'd chosen to stop at. There weren't a lot of choices, especially not in small towns where most things closed at nine.
Both of the men looked like they were pretty well to do. One, though, looked considerably calmer and probably like he was used to navigating a wide variety of social spheres whereas the other looked like he'd spent a large part of his time locked up in a library somewhere keeping the company of old books.
"What can I get you?" Andrea asked, angling herself toward the more comfortable of the men and leaning on the table just the right way so that her arm thrust her breasts in his direction.
"Scotch, on the rocks," the man said.
"And for you?" Andrea asked, smiling and turning toward the other man but trying her best to keep her cleavage most in view of the man she thought would appreciate it.
"Coke," the man said. Andrea suddenly felt sorry for him. He seemed pretty nervous. She doubted the Watering Hole was his kind of place at all.
"Add a little rum to that for my friend," the other man said.
Andrea looked at the nervous little man.
"No, no thank you," he stuttered out. "Just Coke will be fine."
The other man chuckled.
"Now Milton," he said. "You don't drink just Coke in an establishment such as this. He'll have that with rum."
Andrea stood up and nodded at both of them. She went quickly to get the drinks. She fixed the scotch for the one man, but she didn't add the rum to the Coke. What the booze pushing pal of the nerdy man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Andrea carried the drinks back quickly.
"Scotch on the rocks," she said, putting the glass in front of the man. "And Coke," she said, sitting the glass in front of his companion. "Easy on the rum," she said, winking at the man. He looked at her more like he was confused than anything, but she assumed that he would figure out her little trick as soon as he tasted the beverage.
"This is a nice place," the man who ordered scotch said. Andrea stood there a moment. Everyone else in the place was pretty well boozed up and working the tables was part of the job. Besides, if she played her cards right she could make a better tip off this man than she could off three of the other tables, and Mary Ann was likely to collect all the other tips before she could get to them anyhow.
"You haven't seen very much if you think that," Andrea said with a smile.
The man chuckled.
"You're not from around here," Andrea said.
The man shook his head.
"I'm Philip Blake," the man said with a smile, "and this is Milton Mamet."
"Andrea Duff," Andrea said. "Passing through or staying a spell?"
"Mmmm…more in the area, I guess you could say," Philip responded. "On business."
"Oh?" Andrea asked. "What kind of businesss?"
Philip chuckled.
"My, aren't you inquisitive?" He said.
Andrea blushed a little. For many of the patrons that stumbled through the doors it didn't matter if you'd asked them to submit to a blood test. They wouldn't have cared. She always hated being caught being nosy, though.
"You mean nosy, right?" She said with a chuckle. "Sorry, it's almost part of the job description."
"And a charming part," Philip said. "What did you say your name was again?"
"Andrea," Andrea responded.
"And who's the young lady over there?" Philip asked.
Andrea glanced slightly over her shoulder and grimaced at Mary Ann.
"Her name is Mary Ann," she responded dryly. "And now look who's inquisitive…" She smiled at him.
Philip smiled.
"My apologies," he said.
"No worries," Andrea said. "Can I get you anything else or do you just want to drink in private?"
"We're fine for the moment," Philip said.
Andrea nodded and left the table, going about her rounds of cleaning up, especially since Mary Ann never seemed to have the ability to bus any of the tables. From time to time Andrea stopped to fill a drink order or have a spot of conversation, but she kept her eye on the table where Philip and Milton were sitting. After some time, Philip raised his glass at her and she almost jogged in his direction, hoping Mary Ann didn't realize she was stalking this particular table in hopes of a tip that would make up for the rest of the otherwise shitty night.
"Refill?" Andrea asked, smiling.
"Yes," Philip said.
"You?" Andrea asked, turning her attention to Milton. He swallowed and waved his hands as though he was horrified and she wondered if he'd figured out that his drink was nothing more than a regular Coke.
"No, no, I'm fine," Milton said. "Where's your restroom?"
Andrea chuckled a little. She turned around and pointed.
"Over there, far wall…go around that little corner. But I'd recommend stepping outside honestly, around the side of the building. Depends on how brave of a man you are, Milton," Andrea said. Milton looked far more horrified than he had over the prospect of rum and sat still. She assumed that meant he wasn't brave enough for either option. She turned her attention back to Philip and smiled, taking his glass. "I'll be right back," she said.
"Oh," he said, she turned. He reached his hand out to her. "A little something for the lovely lady," he said, smiling.
Andrea looked at his hand, annoyed at yet another patron who would gladly accept her attention when it came to their drinks but was interested in giving their tips to Mary Ann to see if she'd pay some attention to their dicks. She tried not to look as pissed off as she suddenly was. She pasted on her best waitress smile.
"You'll have to pass it to her yourself," Andrea said, trying not to growl. "I'll be right back with your drink."
"I think you misunderstand," Philip said with a chuckle. "I meant for you."
Andrea was shocked. It took her a moment to collect her facial expression together again and smile once more. She stepped forward, taking the folded bill that the man held between his fingers.
"Thank you," she said. "I'll get your drink."
She smiled and went to refill his drink. Behind the bar she snuck a quick glance at the bill and discovered it was a twenty. She couldn't remember ever getting a twenty before. She slipped it into her pocket as secretively as possible. She looked back at the man and he was talking to his nervous little friend. The tip could very well be a test to see if she'd be willing to perform other services for him. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been offered money.
The way she saw it was, the money was hers now. He'd find out later that he wasn't receiving any additional service beyond waiting his table and providing him with a little charming conversation if it pleased him.
Andrea took the glass back to the table and sat it in front of the man.
"Is this a nice little town?" Philip asked.
Andrea smiled. She shrugged a little.
"Sweet Junction's a little town, that's about it," Andrea said. "I guess parts of it are nice, others not so much."
Philip nodded a little and sipped the scotch. Andrea cast her glances at Milton. She wondered if he really had to go to the bathroom or if the man always looked that uncomfortable.
"Have you worked here long?" Philip asked.
"Longer than I care to admit," Andrea said with a smile.
Philip sat back in the booth, holding the scotch glass in his hand. Andrea didn't miss that he gave her a very evident once over, but she was more than accustomed to such things.
"You don't look like the kind that would wait tables," Philip said. "I could see you being a doctor's wife…a lawyer's wife…maybe a student yourself."
Andrea smiled. He was laying it on thick. So thick, in fact, that she doubted it could have been any thicker if he'd come in with a shovel. Still, she was willing to humor him for the twenty in her pocket. She'd done worse in her life.
"I am a student, actually," she said.
"Let me guess," Philip said, sipping at his glass. "Psychology?"
"Close enough," Andrea said. "Cosmetology."
Philip chuckled. He looked around the bar at the customers that were very unlike him. Many of them were, perhaps, interested in the same thing he was at the moment, but they were more straightforward about it, Andrea thought. Whereas he was attempting to use every ounce of charm he had and more than willing to dig in his pockets, the men around were more the kind to offer you a five and ask you point blank to sit on their face. They assumed, probably much like Mr. Philip Blake, that any woman working in an atmosphere such as this had maybe only enough self-respect to fill a thimble.
Andrea could play that card…to a point. She always knew right when to fold her hand.
"So, Andrea, how did you end up in this little town?" Philip asked.
"Not on business," Andrea said, smiling.
Philip smiled.
"Speaking of business," he said, leaning on the table a little and putting his glass down. "Anything I shouldn't miss while I'm in the area?"
Andrea leaned on the table then, glancing momentarily over her shoulder to see if there was any indication that anyone needed anything, but it looked as though everyone was sufficiently saturated for the moment and the table that Mary Ann was entertaining was certainly amused enough for the time being.
"Area's small enough you could miss the whole thing," Andrea said. "I wouldn't say we're exactly known for our historical points of interest."
Andrea wondered what kind of business the man was there on, but he'd seemed to make it clear that he wouldn't be disclosing that information. Sweet Junction didn't exactly attract a lot of business men…at least not unless they were literally passing through on their way to some place bigger and better. There weren't a lot of businesses in the area that weren't completely local. The only businesses that might bring in a person or two tended to be the mills in the area or the plants, and Andrea could tell from a mile away that Philip Blake wasn't a mill worker…though she supposed he could be, if she had to venture out, a new manager or something. He seemed the type that would be used to working with people. She had no idea, though, where his friend Milton fit into the equation.
"Hmmm…" he said, looking at his glass. He finished off the contents. "I suppose, then, that I'll just have to see what I can find for myself."
"How long will you be staying in the area?" Andrea asked.
Philip smiled.
"It's hard to tell," he said. "I do a lot of traveling."
Andrea nodded a little.
"Another drink?" She asked.
He looked at the glass a little remorsefully. She glanced at Milton who had barely touched the Coke that he apparently feared to be spiked. The poor man still looked uncomfortable.
"No," Philip said with a smile. "I think that's enough for the evening. Don't want to get out of hand, you know?"
"That's not exactly our motto around here," Andrea said.
Philip pulled his wallet out and dropped some bills on the table.
"That should cover it. Consider the rest a tip," he said.
Andrea thought about pointing out that he'd already tipped her, but she decided she'd be nice and contribute the extra to the jars that lied considerably about how much money was left behind by patrons.
She waited a moment, expecting the man to make some kind of off color suggestion for the money that he'd given her, but he simply got out of the booth and the nervous Milton followed behind him.
"Charming to meet you," Philip said. "If I'm in the area for long I'll be sure to pass through again."
Andrea nodded at him, noticing that Milton had already made a beeline for the door.
"Nice to meet you too," Andrea said. "Enjoy Sweet Junction."
Philip smiled again.
"I'm sure I will," he said. He turned then and slipped out the door.
Andrea wondered about the man for a moment longer but put him out of her mind as just another of the interesting characters that sometimes passed through with dirt from the road still clinging to the bottom of their shoes. She gathered up the glasses, careful not to spill the Coke that was left almost full, and picked up the money. She brought them to the back, rang out the strange man's tab, dropped the extra money in the tip jar and went back to worrying about the regular patrons of the Watering Hole that would leave a sorry tip for a sloppy ass grab.