Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Holly

“That woman is such a beast,” I grumble as I look over my budget for the rest of the year. “How on earth am I going to cover all of that plus make sure I can take care of Christmas for Mina and Ruby?”

“I can’t believe she’s making you pay the outstanding stuff on the house,” my grandma replies. “She’s always been a bitter woman, but now she’s even worse since Devin passed away.”

I shrug as I gaze down at the paper in front of me once again. Normally, my grandma wouldn’t know about my finances, but she popped over while I was in the middle of trying to figure out how I was going to take care of the massive bill that Myra had sent me for ‘monies owed on the property’ that I used to share with Devin. While we never had to pay rent per se since it was a family-owned home, we took care of the utilities as well as our own expenses. Now, Myra has decided it will be rented out, so I have a bill that includes repainting the whole house, replacing flooring, and a few other odds and ends. Why that legally falls on my shoulders is beyond me, but I’ll figure it out.

“I’ll just have to get something part-time, Grammy,” I finally say. “Just to get through the holidays, at least. Mina and Ruby shouldn’t have to suffer because their grandmother is a bitch.”

“We can help, me and Pappy,” she offers.

I hold up my hand while shaking my head. “No, ma’am. Y’all will keep to the tradition that you started. They get something they want, something they need, something to wear, and something to read, remember?”

She sighs then tries to argue the point. “Holly, we can go back to that next year, sweetie. The girls are hurting, missing their daddy. We can afford to spoil them a little bit.”

“Grammy, you and Pappy are already helping more than you should be,” I tell her. “Pappy bought this place for us, then had his buddies get it all set up so it was safe, and y’all wouldn’t let me give y’all a dime for it.”

“It suits us to have y’all three here,” Grammy replies.

I roll my eyes. “Grammy, the man did the landscaping, put in a small, fenced area in case I wanted to get the girls a dog, and two nice decks so I could sit outside! Plus, a covered walkway from my place to y’all’s house!”

She starts laughing because my grandfather did all that and more. I have a covered carport for my truck, which thankfully was in my name and not Devin’s, as well as a decent size storage shed. “We’ve always wanted you closer, sweetie,” she teases.

“So, if I find a part-time gig, will y’all watch the girls for me?” I ask. “Because the bar just outside of town is advertising for bartenders.”

It’s not my favorite thing to do since I don’t really drink, but I’m good at it, and I know the tips will help my finances by keeping us afloat. Thankfully, I have my own CPA business that I work at from home. I meet clients from time-to-time, of course, but that’s at their location, not in my small, mundane office.

“You don’t even have to ask,” she chides.

“Yes, I do, Grammy. I would never assume that y’all would be willing to watch the girls. Y’all have already raised your kids, plus me when my parents died,” I remind her. “Y’all deserve to enjoy yourselves, not watch two active little girls.”

“Speaking of, where are they?” she asks.

“They both woke up a little under the weather this morning,” I admit. “So, I kept them home from daycare, and they’re both napping right now.”

“What’s going on?” she questions, worry now evident in her voice.

“I think it’s just a cold from the weather changing,” I reply. “But I have an appointment with the pediatrician in the morning just to be on the safe side.”

“Good. Let me go make up some of my soup,” she says, getting up from the chair. “I’ll bring it over when it’s done.”

Smiling, I get up too and hug her. “Thanks, Grammy. Love you.”

“Love you more, my precious girl,” she replies, kissing my cheek. “Call the bar and set up an interview, we’ll watch the girls. And let’s both just pray your pappy doesn’t go and speak his mind to Myra.”

I start to snicker because my pappy is absolutely livid at what Myra is trying to pull. He wanted to go over there with a check, but I wouldn’t let him. Still, he’s always been my biggest defender and protector, so I wasn’t surprised at all when he said that’s what he planned to do.

“I’m sure he will at some point. It’s not okay, Grammy, what she’s doing, and I think the fact that Samuel filed divorce papers says as much. He tried to pay her as well, but she wasn’t having it, and I think that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“He’s a good man. Shame he raised a weak-willed son, but with that ballbuster as his wife, I’m not surprised. He wasn’t like that in school, but when she came up pregnant, all of his dreams went up in smoke.”

I know that feeling. While I will never regret having my girls, my plans didn’t involve becoming a teenage mother.

“We all have to play the hand we’re dealt, Grammy. You and Pappy made sure I have a strong work ethic, and I’m young enough that this won’t be difficult to handle, at least for a few months.”

“I know, I know. I think you got a healthy dose of my stubbornness, too,” she teases.

“Very true.”

“Here goes nothing,” I mumble as I get out of my truck, lock it up, then walk to the employee entrance at the back of the bar where a biker with the word prospect is standing next to the door.

“You the new bartender?” he asks, giving me a once over.

I may not be as slim as I was before I had my girls, since my curves now have curves, but I like to think I’ve filled out well, all things considered. In keeping with the atmosphere, I’m wearing comfortable jeans, a low-cut shirt that gives a hint of cleavage, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots. I know most wouldn’t think they’d be comfortable considering I’ll be on my feet all night long, but they’d be wrong. Plus, they have the added bonus of having steel toes, which means I can protect myself.

“Yeah,” I finally reply. I kind of feel like I need a shower to be honest. He’s spent so much time leering at me, I feel dirty.

“Go on in,” he states, opening the door.

“Thanks,” I remark, stepping through the gaping doorway.

I’m not sure what I expect, but despite the fact this is predominantly a biker bar from everything I’ve been able to figure out, I’m pleasantly surprised to find the vibe is warm and inviting. The lights are low as they normally are in a bar, but I can see a stage and a dance floor off to one side, while the bar is off to the other. I head back to the employee break room, where I place my purse in the locker I was assigned the day I came in for my interview, while my phone goes into my back pocket. A quick stop in the restroom, where I take care of business then wash my hands and I’m ready to sling some drinks.

“Hey, Holly,” Morris says as I make my way behind the bar. “Glad to have you with us.”

“Glad to be here,” I reply, quickly glancing around at the bar top to see everyone has a full drink in front of them.

“Boys, this here’s Holly. Y’all be nice to her, she’s got two little ones she’s working for,” Morris states as he glares at each of the men sitting at the bar.

I smile at each one as he introduces them, not surprised that several are part of the Steel Raiders MC, since they’re located in our town. They’ve got a decent reputation, too, which makes me feel better about my choice for a part-time job. They may be a little bit wild and reckless, but they’re always doing stuff that benefits our small community.

“Two little ones, huh?” the one introduced as Ash asks. “How old?”

“Three and five,” I reply.

“Damn, must have had them when you were what, twelve?” he questions, smirking at me. “Because you barely look legal.”

I snicker because I have my grandmother’s genes and know I look like a teenager. “I was a few years older, I promise, and I’m legal now.”

“Does Rebel know?” Ash asks Morris.

“About hiring her? Not her specifically, no, but he knows I was hiring someone. Fucking Simone kept calling out, and not for nothing, but I’m getting too fucking old to be here six days a week.”

“And yet you’re still here despite Holly showing up,” Data points out. His flash on his cut says he’s the club’s IT guy, and I briefly wonder if that extends to the accounting stuff or not.

“She’s gotta learn the ropes,” Morris growls out. “Now, y’all get to drinking so she can earn some tips, y’hear?”

As the night wears on, Morris steps back and allows me to handle the orders from the waitress, as well as those coming from those sitting at the bar. Thankfully, despite the vintage look the bar has, they have a state-of-the-art computer register, which makes cashing out tabs a breeze. I watch as the tip jar on the countertop fills, my eyes widening as I see a lot of green. Even with giving a percentage to the kitchen staff for the orders they’ve filled, there’s still quite a bit inside.

It’s finally last call, and once the final tab is cashed out and the patrons leave, Morris locks the door after disposing of the trash as I wipe down the bar before I finish running the mugs through the mini dishwasher. He’ll figure out the tips that were put on credit cards and I’ll get those my next shift, along with a printout ‘for my records’. Like I’d ever accuse anyone of trying to stiff me. As far as I’m concerned, the tips are gravy.

Marnie, the waitress, is busy cleaning off the tables, carrying the plates to the kitchen for them to wash. While Morris prints out the register tape for the daily sales, he counts down the money, putting the next day’s start-up till in one bag, and the rest of the money in a second one. I know he’ll go to the back and reconcile it before locking it in the safe for the night, so once I have the bar cleaned and the coolers restocked, I head out onto the floor to help Marnie.

“You don’t have to,” she says as I move toward a table to spray it down and wipe it off.

“Many hands make light the work. That’s what my grammy says, and I have found it makes sense to me. We’re all tired, and I know Morris won’t let us leave until we’re all finished, so why shouldn’t I help?” I reply as I wipe down the booths as well.

“I think I like your grammy,” she says, grinning at me.

“She’s a likable woman, but she definitely has strong ideas about working hard,” I tease. “Now, what else do you have to do?”

“I have to cash out to you and to the kitchen. There’s a cleaning crew that’ll come in early before we open and they’ll clean the bathrooms and mop,” she replies while shuddering. “Thank goodness for that, because sometimes, our patrons are disgusting.”

I can’t help snickering because I saw quite a few of the MC guys take women toward the back, only to emerge a bit later with the women looking a bit disheveled. Since the only rooms down the back hallway are Morris’s office, which he keeps locked, the door to the kitchen, our breakroom, the bathrooms, and a locked storage room with all the extra alcohol, my guess is they made use of the bathrooms.

“Yeah, don’t think I’d wanna clean up used condoms either,” I tease.

“Or puke. I think that’s the absolute worst thing ever. It makes me wanna hurl too,” she adds, shuddering.

Internally, I giggle before telling her, “I used to be like that, but with two little girls, I had to get over that because one is a projectile vomiter and the other tends to pick up every little stomach bug going around. It gets tiring cleaning up from them and myself, trust me.”

Now she’s the one laughing, probably envisioning what I just said. Shrugging, I say, “It happens. I think us moms deserve more than one day a year because of it too!”

While she divvies up her tips then puts some in my jar before she hands some through the window to the kitchen guys, I pull mine out of the jar, my eyes widening even further. “Damn, if it’s like this all the time, I’ll be able to do what I set out to do working here,” I whisper.

She must hear me though because she says, “Tonight wasn’t a particularly busy night either. The weekends are when you really make bank, because nine times out of ten, the majority of the MC shows up.”

Even though I haven’t counted it since I’ll do that once I’m home, I’m just straightening out the bills, I can see I have well over one hundred dollars. Couple the tips with the fact that the bar pays at least minimum wage depending on what position someone’s working, and it will be no time at all before I’m able to pay off that bitch while making sure my girls get a nice Christmas.

Take that, Myra! You thought you were going to crush me, but I’ll show you I’m made of stronger stuff!