CHAPTER TWO Maisy

CHAPTER TWO

Maisy

"Come on, sweet girl. Come on," I softly whispered to my car as I started her up.

I still didn't know what was wrong with her, but I was super happy that I made it home last night. I was also really fucking grateful it didn't start making that horrible noise until after I pulled out of the bar lot. I didn't have to pretend I couldn't hear the offending noise while Mad Bell looked on, because the man was always somehow taking a break out back when I was leaving. It was like he wouldn't let me escape without the satisfaction that his stupid grumpy face was the last thing I saw before I left.

The squealing was definitely louder today. I cringed so hard that both of my eyes closed tight. The kind of tight where you saw lights bouncing around.

"Just one more day," I promised my car as I reversed out of the parking space. I for real hoped she lasted until then because I was closing tonight, which meant I wouldn't be leaving until after midnight. I did not want to break down in the middle of the night. While I could handle myself, I was also smart. I knew better than to put myself in situations where I would have to be able to handle myself. Not that I was victim-blaming in any way. I was simply saying that I liked to lessen the chance of dealing with a bad situation by avoiding it altogether. I was raised in a cop family. I'd heard the horror stories and it was drilled into me to never "walk on the wild side" as my dad would put it.

Yeah, I told my brother I'd get it looked at today. I should have gotten up early and taken care of it this morning, but I was worried they'd tell me I needed a new car or it would be a million dollars to fix or they'd need to keep it for a few days. All of those scenarios were not ones I wanted to deal with until I had a day off. So what if I lived one day at a time and was sometimes horrible with life-planning? I was still working on this adult thing. Sadly, I figured I'd always be working on the adult thing. It never got easier, right?

I rounded the back of the bar to park.

And there Mad Bell was, all six and a quarter feet of him, looking like a desperate girl's wet dream with his ink-covered arms crossed over his chest, thick silver rings catching the sunlight, and hard expression as he leaned against his bike. Oh, and couldn't forget the leather cut, which would be safely hung up when he walked into the kitchen. Too bad his attitude ruined the whole thing. Okay, maybe not ruined. More like tarnished it. I supposed it was a good thing I had plenty of other eye candy around. Like the prospect dragging boxes out to the bins behind Mad Bell, whose name I didn't know despite working with him for a few months now. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to entangle myself with any of them. I liked most of them, but I knew myself. I was likely too head strong and independent for most of them.

I would have sworn that Mad Bell's hard expression turned into a downright scowl as I parked beside him. I took in a deep breath that was supposed to be calming. It was not. I knew the moment I opened my door the shit would start. I could only imagine the first words out of his mouth. Either something about my car or the fact that I was a couple of minutes late. Hm, what if he was feeling extra grumpy today? What if he had some kind of trick up his sleeve, like something he was saving for a moment to kick me when I was down? What if he went for the jugular right away? Like… mentioning something about how I wasn't going to step foot in his kitchen looking like I was dripping sweat. Which was fair, but it wasn't like I could control the humidity and the fact that my car's air conditioning seemed to be struggling along with whatever was going on under the hood.

"You're late," he said, tone cutting and cold. Sad to say, I'd take that over anything else today.

"Good afternoon, Cranky Cook," I said, ignoring his snippy attitude and sending him a clipped, tight smile. Hey, he started it, so it was only fair that I got to take my shot at him. I hip-checked my door closed and walked to the back of the building. "I better not stand out here dawdling, then."

I smiled when I heard him grunt behind me. A real, genuine smile that he couldn't see. Oh, how I loved to get under his skin the way he got under mine.

Inside, I shook everything off. I wasn't going to think about my frustrating family or how my car was breaking down or the Surly Slop Maker that would be in any second now.

Okay, that last one wouldn't be avoidable for much longer. I was in his domain, so naturally, he would be planted here for the rest of my shift. I had to respect that this was his space, and I did. That wasn't the hard part. It was having to be in here and feeling like I had to tiptoe around half the time.

The other half of the time? I said fuck it and messed with him for the hell of it. I didn't think it was healthy for anyone to be that crabby all the time. I wondered if the stern, almost sour, expression on his face was permanent.

Tying on my apron, I smiled as I wiped down my little prep area. It was just before that after-work rush, so I would be making sure the bar was stocked with slices of lemons, limes, and oranges. Oddly enough, cherries were a big request too. I didn't ask, I just made sure whoever was tending bar had enough to keep everyone happy. Then I'd start on the list Mad Bell usually had for me.

The bar was only about two years old. The original one burned down and they had to rebuild the whole thing, from what I'd heard. It still had that new feel, even the kitchen, which probably had more to do with Mad Bell than Roadkill, who took over the grill when Mad Bell wasn't around. The place was surprisingly clean. I'd been working in the food and service industry since I was twenty, and I'd seen a lot of things. This place was immaculate compared to most I'd seen. Hell, I might have not thought twice about eating off the floor. Mad Bell was nearly religious when it came to cleaning. Every night he spent at least an hour wiping down the equipment, and he did a deep clean once a week. The food was labeled with dates, and he was constantly checking to see if anything was expired.

I grabbed an armful of lemons and got to work.

With a deep breath, I steeled myself for to face the man who I'd be sharing the space with for the next hour of prep work. The man who made me feel unsure and happy at the same time.