Deal

For lack of a better word, Lucas Fuller was one of the man sluts of Lakeview High School. The Devil in the flesh. Or well, he was when we were in high school. Though I hadn’t known him very well – he was a year ahead of me and ran with a much different crowd than I had – I would have had to have lived under a rock to not know him at all.

During my freshman year, he had moved to Lakeview from a couple towns over. Instantly, he was a huge hit with the girls from every grade. He was perfect; he was attractive, sweet… Well, that’s what they said. It didn’t take long for his true intentions to show, that he wasn’t at all looking for a girlfriend, but to do as my friends and I described as the “Dine and Dump”. And, when he was lucky, to get them in his bed too. He was like the George Clooney of our little town and generation, except less special. Worst yet, no one even seemed to mind, until they were the one being dumped. And I had to deal with many of his dumpees – some of which were a few of my closest friends.

Due to his immediate and long-lasting success as a playboy, he had become popular with the already well-established group of players in the sophomore class: Charlie, the epiphany of tall, dark, and handsome, and Colin, the baseball player with the nice butt. The three of them together could make whole halls of girls swoon with their boyish charms. As I eyed him now, I couldn’t help but think how much more grown up he looked. Broader shoulders, more defined muscles, sharper jaw…

“You’re what?”

I blinked, snapping myself from my daze and my eyes met his again. Amusement decorated his entire face, from his sly grin to his deep, dark eyes. It took me a moment to remember that I hadn’t finished talking.

Damn it all. He did not just… I was not just…

Averting my eyes and pursing my lips, I tried to play it off, “You’re server. Obviously. What do you want to drink?” I cringed inwardly at the amount of attitude dripping from my tone. Peering back at him, I saw he was grinning even wider, probably proud of himself for getting such a rude reaction out of me.

“I’ll have a Sex on the Beach.” Of course you will… I thought dryly.

I looked at the other two men at the table, remembering them from back in high school and also because I’d found down here on most weekend nights: Jason and Alex. Like Lucas, they were a grade level ahead of me. Contrary to Lucas’s appearance though, neither of them were swoon-worthy. Jason was only about my height and just about as muscular as I was – so, not muscular at all. Along with being small and lanky, he had the face of a fifteen year old boy, young and lacking even the hint of facial hair. Meanwhile, Alex stood as his complete opposite: he was tall and large, and a scruffy beard seemed to always adorn his jaw. Despite their less impressive appearances, they were always just as popular as, if not more so than, the boy sandwiched between them.

I sent them each kinder smiles, already sure of what they would order. “And two Long Island Iced Teas for you guys?” They grinned at me.

“You remember!” Alex laughed, sending a wink in my direction. Esteem bubbled in my chest and I all but forgot about my embarrassing moment and the annoying man sitting to his right. Jason sent me a polite smile and a slight head nod. Smiling at him, I spun around on my heel and prepared to speed through the crowds of people to the bar at the other side of the room when Lucas’s deep voice rang in my ears again.

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not gonna card us?” I faced him and his smug grin with pursed lips. Of course I wasn’t going to card them; I’d gone to school with them. And considering I had just turned 21 a few months ago, I knew for a fact that the three of them were at least 21 as well. They were the year ahead of me, for goodness sake!

Surprising, I heard Jason murmur, “She went to the same high school as us. She knows we’re twenty-two.” Lucas raised his eyebrows at Jason, as if surprised by this knowledge, and I felt anger boiling in my chest. He doesn’t remember me…?

“You don’t say,” he mused, turning his attention back to me with a grin and wink. “Sorry sweet cheeks, I knew a lot of girls back then.”

I grimaced at him, balling up my fists in a vain attempt to hide my frustration both at him forgetting me and at the nickname. It’s not like Lakeview High was all that big. It’s not like he hadn’t led on most of my female friends. It’s not like he and I hadn’t crossed paths, one fateful day years ago, and left my own kind of notch in his belt.

“Don’t call me that,” I growled. Before he could respond, I rushed away from the table and toward the bar.

If it were possible, this side of the busy basement floor was becoming even more crowded. While the left half was lined with booths around the perimeter and some tables in the center, the right side was completely overtaken by an impressive bar. The bar itself was shaped like a C, with the call and super call shelves of spirits and liqueurs stacked on the back wall behind the bartender. As I squeezed through a group of busty women and rounded the end of the counter to be behind the bar, I nearly collided into someone’s back. Scurrying backwards, I peeked up at the excited, though stressed expression of the bartender, Mason Knight.

“Cam,” he breathed, looking away from me to continue pouring what looked to be a Cape Codder for one of the busty women I’d just pushed through. “What’s up, buttercup?”

While he was a couple years older than I was, Mason had the same boyish looks as a high school student. His hair was dark and shaggy, and he was always well-shaven to show off an almost flawless complexion, minus a small scar just below his eye. He claimed it was from a fight with a guy over a girl they had both fancied. Personally, I think he’d just fabricated that as a story to tell the ladies at the bar, but I wasn’t about to call him out on it.

I watched as he shook the contents in a shaker and poured it into a highball glass with a lime. As he slid it toward the well-endowed female, I responded, “I need two Long Island Iced Teas and a Sex on the Beach.”

“Only the sexiest of ladies order a Sex on the Beach,” he winked at me. I knew he was saying that because it was my favorite drink and he liked to tease me, but I couldn’t help but fight back a humored smirk.

“Tell that to the boy who ordered it,” I replied with a wink of my own and burst out laughing as his face fell.

“Well this is awkward,” he chuckled, grabbing a few glasses from behind us. “Don’t tell him I said that, then. Wanna make it for me?”

Before I’d started working at The Loft as a waitress, I had taken a week long course on bartending. After passing the tests and becoming certified, I planned on finding a job where I could put my new skills to good use. Unfortunately, most restaurants wouldn’t hire a bartender with no experience – and I wasn’t about to let on of all the mixology experience I had in my three years of college – so my only option was to get a job as a waitress and hopefully work my way up. With my manager’s permission, I was allowed to play bar-back on nights that weren’t too busy to gain some of the much needed experience. However, actually making the drinks was not part of the job description. Mason claimed it was okay, but I’m sure our boss would disagree. Granted, that didn’t ever seem to stop me.

“Heads!” he called, and I instinctively reached out for the bottle of Grey Goose he’d lobbed at me. I grimaced and he laughed at my expression.

“You’re trying to get me fired,” I accused as he set down a bottle of Peachtree next to me. “I’ve barely been here a month and you already want me out of here, I know it.”

“Chill out,” he mused, reaching for the bottles on a lower shelf beneath the bar. While I poured the vodka and peach schnapps simultaneously, he continued, “And I knew you’d catch it! Plus, it’d be my ass if you didn’t; I don’t think the boss would take lightly to me throwing some of our more expensive spirits at the waitresses.”

“If you say so,” I replied, returning the bottles to the shelves and retrieving cranberry and orange juices. Filling the glass with both, I grabbed for one of the smaller shakers, shook it, and poured it back into the glass just as Mason finished topping of the Long Island Iced Teas with a splash of Coke. “Thanks Mase, you’re a doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grimaced as I balanced the three drinks on my tray. I laughed and sent him a small wave as I made my way back through the crowd.

I’ll have to check on the family’s food soon… I thought gingerly, swaying through the familiar and unfamiliar faces. Peering over some heads to view table 25, I noticed the large crowd had dispersed and now the three boys were left alone chatting amongst themselves. As I neared them, I met Jason’s eyes for a moment before he said something inaudible and shook his head in my direction. The three boys all met my plastered-on smile with grins of their own.

“‘Bout time, sweet cheeks!” Lucas called and my smile faltered a bit at the nickname. At that, his only grew and I inwardly cursed myself for giving him the reactions he was looking for.

“Thank you, Camille,” Jason coyly accepted his drink as I placed them down on the table in front of them. I couldn’t help but think, as I turned to smile at him, how different Jason was from the charismatic loud-mouth I recalled from high school. Alex said nothing; he was too busy sucking down half of his drink.

“Can I get any of you something to eat?” I tried to sound sincere, but Lucas’s smirk as he sucked down his drink made my skin crawl. Just my luck, he was the first to respond.

“What do you recommend, sweet cheeks?” he asked, tilting his head to the side innocently.

I inwardly groaned. I don’t have time for this; I have to check my other table! “That depends on what kind of food you’re interested in. What are you interested in?”

“Oh, I like all types: sweet, spicy, salty...” He looked me up and down, his smirk growing. “…even the most bitter, sour types.” Beside him, Alex spluttered and coughed loudly while fighting back a small smile. Jason ran a hand through his hair, stopping midway to shake his head. It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t stupidly referring to the different flavors in food, but to his taste in girls. And I think he was trying to call me bitter and sour. That was possibly the worst…whatever he was trying to accomplish by saying that, I thought in exasperation. All the while, Lucas looked up at me with the same smirk and innocent head tilt. Hah, innocent.

Determined not to give him what he wanted again, I forced myself to send him my most sickeningly sweet smile, responding, “Then I’m sure you’ll be fine with anything on the menu! I’ll give you all a moment to figure out what you’d like.” I paused for a moment, before adding, “Sorry though, we don’t offer anything sour or bitter, so I suppose you’ll have to settle for something else.” And before he could say anything more to keep me there longer, I spun around and hurried out of sight through the crowds of people and up the stairs.

Though I knew my priority was supposed to be the family, I had one objective to complete before I could hurry to the kitchen. When I reached the top of the stairs, I booked it left and power walked straight to the front door, where I saw Rylee laughing jovially with another hostess. However, the second she saw me booking it toward her, Rylee’s lips pulled into a nervous smile and she attempted to run in the other direction. Lucky for me, I was close enough to catch up to her and grab her shoulder sharply.

“Anyway we could…” I hissed in her ear. “…talk?” Rylee laughed awkwardly and attempted to shake me off.

“Oh, whatever about?” she questioned.

“You know very well what about!” I shouted, removing my hand from her shoulder to cross my arms over my chest. “What’s up with that – giving me him to deal with? Weren’t you just freaking out at me over my health? Serving him is not helping me!”

“Don’t you have tables to wait on?” she asked back, throwing my previous sass back in my face. I frowned. Clearly, confronting her, especially at work, was not going to get me anywhere. Sighing, I turned around to walk toward the kitchen. When I was far enough away from her however, Rylee called after, “And by the way, I didn’t put them there. They requested your table.”

I froze. Requested it? I spun around to question her further. However, as I did a large party came pushing through the front door and Rylee’s attention was redirected to them.

Why in the world, I thought incredulously as I sped away to the kitchen, already picturing the angry faces of the family of four in my head, would they request my table?