Whisky on My Mind (14 page)

“I haven’t had any complaints from nobody,” she said
, snapping her gum.

“That’s not the point. We have a uniform
; it’s jeans, not a skirt. I want you wearing the proper uniform tomorrow night.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes once more as she walked away, sending a sidelong glance across at Jackson as she went.

“I
really
don’t like her,” Whisky muttered, as they watched Slutty Barbie saunter across the room drawing quite a few male glances along the way. “She’s a piece of work, that’s for sure.”

“How’s Bella doing?”

Whisky dragged her gaze away from Kiki and shook off her bad mood. “Better. Thanks for helping out. It’s hard trying to be everywhere at once.”

“
Hanging out and going shopping hardly counts as doing much.”

Cindy had given Bella a new lease of life after an impromptu shopping spree the day before. For the first time since she’d returned, she’d caught a sparkle in Bella’s eye.

“It’s great for her to have someone there… You helped a lot.”

“Any time.
But what are you going to do about
her
,” she asked, tossing her head in Kiki’s direction. “There’s been more than a few female diners looking pretty unimpressed by her antics.”

“I can’t fire her without a good enough excuse. The club feels as though they owe her father some kind of favor. I’ll try and talk some sense into her after
the shift…see what happens.”

“Good luck.”

Whisky’s gaze fell upon the young blonde as she took a couple’s order, and caught the woman at the table send a glare across at her companion as he ogled the cleavage in front of him.
At this rate, there’d be no return customers,
Whisky thought despairingly.
They’d all end up divorced.

****

“Have you seen, Kiki?” Whisky asked Cindy at closing time.

“I sent her to your office to wait for you,” Cindy answered, untying her apron. “You need back up?”

“No thanks. I’ll do my best not to strangle her,” Whisky muttered.

“No one would blame
ya’…just sayin’,”Cindy shrugged.

Whisky was still smiling as she headed down the hallway toward the office. As she approached the door, it opened and Kiki stepped out
, a sly smile spreading across her face as she glanced up and spotted Whisky. Sky absently noticed the bright hooker-red lipstick she wore was smudged slightly. Looking through the open doorway behind the younger woman, she saw Sawyer run a hand across his mouth. He glanced up at that moment and saw her, instantly dropping his hand to swear savagely.

Whisky couldn’t move. She stood there frozen to the spot as Kiki brushed past still wearing a smirk.

“Whisk,” Sawyer said, moving across to the door.

Hearing his voice snapped her
from the shock which had set in and she spun around heading in the opposite direction toward the back door.

“Whisky, wait.”

She shook her head angrily and kept walking. Words were flying around her head—mostly swear words, but she knew if she opened her mouth nothing would come out.

“Stop.”
Sawyer grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt just as she pushed open the door leading out to the car park. “That
wasn’t
what it looked like.”

Whisky lifted an eyebrow cynically, furious at everything and hurt beyond comprehension at what she’d seen.

“I know it looked bad. I know what you
thought
you saw…but it wasn’t. She was in your office when I walked in to wait for you…she started talkin’ shit and when I realized what she had in mind I told her to get out…she kissed me, Whisk…and that’s when you walked in.”

“Good thing I did…you could have been
raped
,” Whisky snarled sarcastically.

Sawyer ran a hand through his short hair and swore, repeating a few choice words she’d been thinking herself. “I get why you’re pissed…but
Baby, I swear—it wasn’t
me
kissing
her
. Come on, you know what she’s like.”

“I know
exactly
what she’s like,” Whisky snapped. “Which is why I didn’t want to hire her in the first place, but you were the one who insisted we give her a chance.”

“You know that her father
’s been a friend of the club for a long time. We owed him a favor.”

“Her father
, the tattoo artist? The guy who can make his living from just a week’s worth of Mustangs getting new tattoos? Yeah, ‘cause we don’t already do him enough favors.”

“She’s just a kid—she’s harmless. I’ll set her straight, bawl her out in front of the rest of the staff
, and she won’t try anything like that again. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you go set her straight.” Whisky pulled her arm from his grasp and turned away.

“I’ve tried to explain what happened…I can’t make you believe me, but if that had been me walkin’ in on you, I would at least believe you if you told me what happened. It’s called trust.”

“Yeah, well this,” she said pointing to herself, “
is called needing some time alone.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep out on the sofa if you’re that pissed at me.”

“I don’t give a shit where you sleep, Sawyer. I can’t stand being here tonight. I’m sick of the whole damn place.”

“What else is going on with you? You’ve been
snappin’ my head off all week.”

Whisky blinked back the sting of frustrated tears. Her initial anger had faded, but everything else she’d been pushing
aside was rushing to fill its place. “I’m over this, Sawyer. I’m over trying to make something of myself and being turned down because of who my father was, instead of who I am. Nothing I’ve achieved means a damn around here. It doesn’t matter I’m top of my damn class…it doesn’t matter that I’ve worked my ass off to put myself through college…and it sure as hell doesn’t mean shit that I’m part owner of a successful business…no one cares. They won’t look past the damn motorcycle club.”

Sawyer watched her silently, holding her gaze gently. “Then it’s their loss,
Baby.”

“No. It’s not. It’s mine. Don’t you see? I’ll never be anything other than your old lady and a member of this damn club,” she shouted, angrily swiping at the tears that escaped.

“What is it you want then?” he demanded, his frustration showing as he jammed his hands on his hips and stared at her expectantly. “What the hell do you want me to do to fix it?”

“Nothing,” she said after a few moments. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Baby—”

Whisky shook her head sadly. “I can’t do this tonight.”

“Fine,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping away from her. “Maybe when you figure out what the hell it is you want, then you can let me know.”

She watched him walk away and wanted to call out to him, but she couldn’t summon the words. More tears fell and she didn’t bother wiping them away. It had been a long time since she’d felt this empty inside, and right now not even Sawyer could fix it…how could he when everything he represented was responsible for it. The time to make some big decisions was rapidly approaching.

C
hapter 13

“She did what?” Bella gasped as she sat next to Whisky in her room later that night.

“Yep.
In my office, no less.”

“So do you believe Sawyer?”

“Of course I do. But that’s beside the point. I’m still pissed off at him, too. The last thing I wanted to see was her slutty red lipstick all over his mouth. I bet a
part
of him was enjoying it.”

“Well, I kinda
’ feel bad for him. I mean…it put him in a pretty bad position. I’ve seen you two together, Sky, and if ever there was a guy one hundred percent devoted to you—it’s Sawyer. I totally believe the sneaky little skank took advantage of an opportunity.”

“I know,” Whisky sighed, closing her eyes. She knew Kiki was trouble the moment she laid eyes on her. She also knew that Sawyer had not initiated anything. She knew it. It didn’t make her feel any happier about seeing it though. “I just can’t be around him right now.”

“Yeah, I get that. Hey, it’s probably a good thing. Time alone for both of you will probably remind him how much he loves you.”

“I love him, Bell,” Whisky said quietly.

“I know you do, honey. It’s going to be okay. There’s been so much crap going on lately, it’s just caught up with everyone. Just take a few days and let things settle.”

“But that’s just the point…the only thing that’s going to settle is me. I’m the one who will have to give up my dream of running my own business.”

“Not necessarily. There’ll have to be someone out there willing to overlook the whole Black Mustang thing…surely?”

“I don’t think so…not after all the publicity they’ve been drawing lately.
No one in their right mind would want to get in the middle of this—especially when the Switchblades might come roaring through with guns blazing again.”

“This is
all my fault. If Sawyer hadn’t been trying to help with the whole Paul mess…he wouldn’t have been at the stupid airport that night.”

“If they hadn’t tried there, they would have done it somewhere else…this doesn’t have anything to do with you, Bell.
It’s club business,” she tacked on wearily.

“Things will work themselves out, you’ll see.”

Whisky didn’t have the energy to bother arguing. Bella’s optimism was all fine and dandy…but reality was while she was tied to Sawyer and the club…her dreams would always remain dreams.

Things were awkward around the club house over the next few days. She’d managed to stay out of Sawyer’s way for as long as possible, but she knew it would be impossible to continue to do so. Bella had decided to move back to the apartment in the city, and Whisky suspected it was to get the hell away from all the tension at the club. She couldn’t blame her—and she almost wished she’d gone with her. She decided against it though, only because she knew that would be the one thing that tipped Sawyer
over the edge. Besides, he was still not entirely convinced the Switchblades wouldn’t try something. Bella refused to listen to her concerns, though, and promised to be extra vigilant and not go anywhere alone. Whisky had a fleeting insight into how it must feel to be Sawyer—always worrying about her safety. She couldn’t force Bella to stay and in truth, she really didn’t think Bella would be in any real danger—this beef seemed to be focused solely on the club. She seemed a lot stronger now that she had returned to school and each day more and more of the old Bella was coming back. She just wished things between her and Sawyer could go back to the way they had been just as fast.

****

Sawyer swore as he realized he’d missed Whisky before she’d gone across to open the bar. He walked inside and saw her signing for a delivery. It was still early so there wasn’t too many staff around and the restaurant hadn’t opened for lunch yet. He waited until Whisky finished talking to the delivery guy and walked across the bar to stand in front of her. He’d given her enough space; it was time to put this shit behind them. He’d slept alone now for two nights and it was driving him insane.

“We need to talk,” he said, holding on to her arm as she made to walk past him.

“I’m busy.”

“Too bad.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” he said
, dropping his shoulder slightly and heaving her up into a fireman’s hold. He secured her legs and clamped a hand around her ankles, but he couldn’t do anything about her fists that launched into an attack against his back or the stream of cussing that came from her mouth. Around them he heard catcalls and clapping from some of the guys behind the bar, and knew he’d pay for this long after today, but he didn’t care. Sometimes you just couldn’t reason with an angry woman any other way.

When he reached her office, he lowered her back to the ground and braced himself for her tirade.