Two nights later I was dumb enough to think I had the hang of the place.
Curtis parked at the end of the counter with his fourth beer and a mouth that wouldn't quit.
Curtis: Look at that. New girl pours like she's scared of the glass.
Dahlia: Then order a bottle and pour it your own damn self.
Greta slid past me with a rag over her shoulder.
Greta: He's a cheap drunk and a worse tipper. Don't let him get his hooks in you.
Curtis: Come here. Lemme see if you're as soft as you look.
His hand closed around my wrist and squeezed, hard enough to test the bones.
My whole body went cold and stupid. It knew that grip before my brain did.
Four fingers, right over the old marks. Vince's hand had fit the same way.
Dahlia: Let go of me.
He grinned and pulled, and my hip slammed the edge of the bar.
My other hand had a pitcher of beer in it, half full and sweating cold.
I brought it down on the bar top as hard as I could.
Glass blew out everywhere. Beer hit his shirt, my apron, the floor.
The handle stayed in my fist, jagged and wet and good for one thing.
Curtis: You crazy bitch. You see what she did?
Dahlia: Touch me again and this goes in your neck. Ask me if I'm joking.
Opal came around the counter and got between us like I wasn't the one holding a broken bottle.
Opal: Curtis. You're done. Pay the girl and get your fat ass out of my bar.
He slapped bills down and said something about whores and leashes on his way out.
I didn't catch all of it. My ears were ringing too loud.
Greta pried the handle out of my hand before I cut myself on it.
Greta: There. Breathe. You're not bleeding, you're just pissed.
My hands started shaking then, like they'd been waiting for permission.
Opal: You break my barware again, you pay for it.
Opal: But you did good. That one's been needing it for years.
She swept up the glass and didn't look at me like a problem.
Nobody in that room looked at me like I was nothing. That was new.
Then I made myself look at the club table.
Riggs hadn't moved. Coffee in his hand, elbows on the table, watching me like he'd been watching the whole time.
He hadn't stood up. He hadn't needed to.
It wasn't the way Curtis looked at me. Not hungry like that.
He looked like he'd added something up and didn't care for the number.
Riggs: You want him banned?
Dahlia: Is he gonna come back?
Riggs: Not tonight.
It wasn't a promise. It was a fact, the way he said it, and it went through me warm.
I hated that. I wiped the counter so I'd have something to do with my hands.
My wrist had four red prints on it that would go purple by morning.
I pulled my sleeve down over them and kept pouring.
Later, upstairs with the door locked twice, I kept reaching for that look.
Not the grab. That was Vince's shadow, nothing new.
The look was new.
Like I was a person he wanted to hear from. Or a liar he'd already decided to figure out.
Either way, he'd seen me. And Vince always said the worst thing a woman can be is seen.
I lay there a long time and couldn't decide if I wanted to run or stay.