Payce's Passions (6 page)

Decked out in designer slacks and a dark button down shirt, with a pair of Fendi shoes, I glance at my reflection in the glass entry door to Braxton’s.
You are about one wicked hot man.
If I do say so myself, which I do. Sometimes you have to play your own cheerleader to boost your ego. I brush my hand over the bristly spikes on top of my head, and take another minute to calm my nerves and get into my zone.

Almost everyone has a person in their comfort zone, like mom or dad, a spouse or family to protect, love, make happy, teach, keep safe or warn them of dangers, but not me. I am my own comfort zone, but I don’t mind too much, been doing it since I was about ten years old. When you know how to do it, it’s pretty automatic.

A boxer or fighter has a zone he puts himself into. He’s able to tune out pain, pump more adrenaline into his body, cut off emotions, and focus. All basic skills of survival. Mothers have it with children too. A mom can tune out sounds, like a loud TV, increase their focus on the voices and noises their children make, distinguish warning cries, read body language and sense danger. Hell everyone does it, but not everyone keeps it fine-tuned, so it takes them longer.

Going into my street smart’s mode is simple for me. I have two routes to get there. The first route is to be somewhere new which makes it unfamiliar and uncomfortable or take the second route straight to back to when I was a kid, a teenager when you always had to look over your shoulder, never sure who was coming for you. Once your street smarts kick in, your protection and skills of survival increase. Trust, emotions and feelings are something you ditch immediately. They’re all dangerous because they distract you, so assume everyone is out to get or hurt you, until they prove otherwise. Your awareness of surroundings, people and situations are heightened and you’re able read and anticipate people’s moves, like in a chess game.

By watching body language, breathing, studying their eyes, you pretty much know what their next move is. Instincts are the bodies built in warning signs, you feel it in the gut, the nerves, in chills, and the hair standing on end. Never show anyone what you really think or feel, ever.

No one gets the real me with emotions and feelings. It sounds cold, but it’s safer for me that way. I don’t get hurt, it’s the reason I don’t let people get close. They only get what I project out to them, and it gives me the advantage and control of a situation. It’s like being a very good liar, a manipulator at expert level. Become someone else.

Once all of this happens, which takes all of about ten to twenty seconds, I’m in my comfort zone. My confidence is increased a hundred percent and I become one bad mother fucker.

I take one more look at my reflection, adjust my belt, and walk inside Braxton’s Grill and Tavern
.

As I glance around the place, I’m a little overwhelmed with what he’s created here. A sign, reading “Braxton’s” is illuminated in gold script letters that angle along the bannister leading to a half level upstairs. There’s so much to take in, but seeing his name on the sign makes me smile, I’m proud of him. He did well for himself, went above and beyond amazing. Impressive.

In the center of the room a long open grill stretches across the back. Off to the right is the open floor dining area, with a small stage set off in the back corner. To the left is a glass doorway that opens to an outside patio area. Bluish lights shine down on water fountains that are scattered through the center garden section.

The upper level is a bar area and that’s right where I’m heading. It’s dim and overlooks the entire place, the perfect place to watch and observe. Plus I need a damn drink right now and quick. As I walk up, seeing the sign up close with Braxton’s name on it makes me laugh. It’s huge. I’m very proud of him.

The bar floor is packed, but I spot a little table next to the railing and up against the wall. Perfect, because I never sit anywhere with my back to people, never have. Guess I never wanted anyone to sneak up behind me and catch me off guard. I sit down and a cute little waiter with blond hair approaches the table.

“WHAAAT…can I get for you?” The guy laughs and puts his hand on his hip, tapping a pen against his cheek.

“Scotch on the rocks.”

“Ugh…bor-ingggggggggg!” He stretches the word out for almost five full seconds. “Try again.”

I laugh at him. “Alright, then tell me what’s good in a place like this?”

“Me! Ahhhhahahaha. I’m just playing. I’ll bring you a scotch on the rocks. Back in a flash.” He turns around and does some kind of galloping thing off to the bar.

Strange.
I watch him for about a full minute before he almost exhausts me to the point of needing a Valium. He must have spun around a million times to look at every table on the floor, not to mention, every one of the employee’s too. Linda Blair didn’t have shit on him. It’s a wonder he didn’t just cause permanent damage to his neck and back with all the moves he just pulled off. He reminds me of a lightning strike he moves fast, like a bolt that rips down the bark of a tree, setting off a spark.

I pull out one of my business cards from my wallet, and scratch my cell number on the back of it. As soon as I can get a feel for the place and a few employees, I’ll ask for this Ash guy and see what I can come up with.

The waiter comes back with my drink, sets it on the table. “Why don’t you let me start a tab for you?”

“That’s probably a good idea. Thanks.” I nod at him.

“I’ll check back with you as soon as you’ve finished your drink. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching.”

I have no doubt you will.

He does some sort of Saturday Night Fever dance move over to the next table.

Taking a sip of my drink, I begin scoping out the place, reading the name tags of everyone that passes. The managers wear black pants and a black shirt with tie, way more formal than the normal employees who are wearing black with white shirts, and aprons wrapped at their hips. The manager's focus is mainly at entryway, greeting customers and the first floor dining area. They seem to know the customers well, and approach many of the tables with a handshake and begin talking and laughing with them.

The place has a great atmosphere about it, very calm and laid back, yet friendly and professional. There’s just a good vibe about it, it’s relaxing and people must really love it because there’s a line forming outside the door in no time. Yes, I’m impressed.

When I finish my drink, the waiter arrives right on time and snatches the glass out of my hands.

“Can I get you another?” There he goes, pulling one of his moves with those jerky movements again.

Damn he’s quick, he’s now dubbed Sparky.
“Sure, lay it on me
.” Please don’t snap any vertebras in half when you do your next move, which I have no doubt is coming very soon.

“What about something to eat for you? We have fabulous appetizers, but if you’d like something a little more filling, for dinner, I’ll sneak downstairs and get you one of our menus. We do that for our regulars.”

“I’m not one of the regular customers.” I crack my neck side to side.

“Shush.” He puts his fingers up to his mouth. “I know, but no one else needs to. I’ll vouch for you.” He winks at me.

Seriously, Sparky, flirting with me?
Not even close to my type, sweetie. Let’s face it…as big as I am, I’d have that pretty little ass of yours in shreds in a matter of minutes. I might be a little on the rough side of things, but I’m not a sadist and would never take something to the point of destroying it. Alright, this guy is making me twitchy, it’s time to turn it up a notch. I need to know who Ash is and Sparks here is going to tell me, he just doesn’t know it yet.
Game face on.

“You could do that for me, well aren’t you a sweetie? How long have you been working here?” I smile at him, raising an eyebrow in question, like I really give a flying fuck.

“Over a year now.” Sparky stands up straight, all tall and proud grinning ear to ear.

“Get out, seriously? Nice, I bet you know all the ins and outs around the place. Hell, I bet you could probably take over and run the place for your boss, huh?”

He shakes his head up and down so fast, a nosebleed should be coming any second now, and I’m ready to bolt when it does. There is no way he didn’t jar something loose inside there.

“Almost can run the place. The boss man says when I make it to two years, then he’ll make me a floor supervisor. He said I have great potential and excellent customer interaction skills. Between us though, I think the real reason he likes me so much is because I’m able to multi-task so many responsibilities all at the same time when none of the others can. I have a lot of energy and can keep up like that.”

“It sounds like he really likes you. I know that I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far from you. You’ve definitely got some skills, sweets.” I lick the top corner of my lip, and watch him.

He focuses on my mouth and tongue and his jaw drops open.

Way too easy.

“You made an excellent first impression and I’m a business man, so I spot professionals a mile away. You are definitely supervisor material, it’s sort of like a natural born leader and you nail it. Mark my words, you’ll be the boss’s right hand man in no time at all. Watch and see.” I point my finger at him.

“Really, do you really think so? That would so rad, bestest thing ever, but he’s already got someone right under him with the job.” He ducks his head down, like he just lost his best friend. “I don’t think Ash will ever quit this job, he loves it here.”

It’s the first time he’s not practically jumping out of his skin, he’s thinking.
“Of course I mean it. I have no reason to lie to you, do I? You’re a cool dude so I’ll do something for you.” I crook my finger, winding him in closer, like it’s a big secret, and he leans down. “Okay, normally people pay me some big bucks for this. I have this way of reading people, picking up on thing that normal people don’t see. Like I told you, I can spot things in people by watching their body language and eyes. If you point to this Ash guy, I’ll give you my professional opinion on what I see from him. If he’s got that leader thing, like you do, or not, but only if you promise not to tell. I sure don’t need your boss kicking me out, I kind of like it here.”

“Oh my God, yes, yes. And I would never tell a soul, just our little secret.” He crosses his finger across his chest, making an X mark. “Promise, but I can’t because he’s off tonight. He called in earlier and said he caught a bug or something. He did say he’d be here tomorrow afternoon.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about, it’s not your fault. I’ll let you in on a little clue though. Real supervisors never ever call in or stand the workers up on the busiest night of the week, unless they’re practically on their deathbeds. Professionals don’t do that to their co-workers or their boss, it’s a big no-no.”

He grins ear to ear. “I sure hope you come back tomorrow. Oh, I got so busy jibber-jabbing that I almost forgot to get your drink, and a menu for you. I’ll be right back with those.”

“Just make it the drink. Tell you what though, I’ll see about slipping in here tomorrow and have a nibble or something, but only if you’re working. I like talking to you and I’ll take a peek at Ash too for you.” I grin at him, like we are best fucking friends and blood brothers for life making a promise pact.

“Oh goody, you’ll be back, I work tomorrow. I always work, so make sure you come up those stairs and sit right here, I’ll save it for you. I’ll be right back with your drink.” He grins all silly and prances up to the bar.

Well Fuck!
This was a wasted trip. At least Sparky is entertaining. Nothing like watching a little blond cutie twirl his ass around in a set of skinny jeans, but I was hoping to have the whole thing resolved tonight, with info to give Damien and never have to step foot in here again. No such luck, shit. At least for today, I made it in without running into Brax, and it’s so packed in here now, I can probably get out the same way. No harm done.

I pull out my phone and text Damien that everything was a bust, and I’ll try again tomorrow.

He responds a couple minutes later with a thank you first, then asks if I ran into Brax.
Always trying to play the matchmaker.

Texting back, no, I set my phone down on the table. Looking around, I search for Sparks and my drink. When I spot him through the crowd, he holds up one finger, letting me know it’ll be a minute.
Fucking great, I’m ready to split.
I have no reason to be here now.

My phone goes off and I read the message coming through.
Fucking Damien.
I laugh and read it.

“Well shit. Was hoping my nightmare of a mess could work itself into some sort of miracle reunion thing where you found some happiness too.”

I begin texting back when my drink finally comes, but don’t look up. “Thanks, would you mind bringing the bill for me, sweets? I’d appreciate it,” I ask Sparks.

I finish my message. “You sap, give it up, Damien. Happiness and love just weren’t in the cards for me. I checked the whole deck a long time ago, those two were missing-lol.” I hit send and put my phone down. Reaching for my drink, I wrap my hands around it, pulling it to me.

”They’re on the house.”

My heart pounds in my chest so hard, the muscles tighten, and it hurts to breathe.
Focus, clear thoughts, and toss up some extra protection walls quick.
I’m trying, but it’s not working. My fingers clench around the glass. I can’t sort out what to say, so I take a deep breath and slowly raise my head to see him. Our eyes lock together immediately. I swirl the ice around in the glass once more, then put it to my lips and swallow, licking the scotch off of my top lip after.

“Thank you, Brax.” I nod and tip the glass toward him.

“Do you mind?” He puts his hand on the back of the chair across the table from me.

“And if I did?” I give him a half grin so he knows I’m only joking.

“I’d sit anyway, perks of owning the place.” He straddles the chair and sits.