“If you say so.”
Because all I can feel is the humid air that’s making my hair stick to the back of my neck and my jeans cling to my thighs. As much as I hate wearing shorts, I might have to give in. Otherwise, I’m liable to pass out from heat stroke.
As if sensing my thoughts, Jas says, “I think we’re the same size. Do you want to borrow a pair of shorts?”
I’m about to say no, but then I look at the boxes.
“You know what, that would be awesome.”
“Come on.”
We go back inside and she leads me away from the bar and main space, toward a hallway with several doors on both sides. Some have nameplates and a few have decorations around the frame. I’m really not surprised when we stop in front of a door decorated with pink fluff and One Tree Hill photos all over it. I might not know much about Jas, but I know one thing – she’s the biggest One Tree Hill fan I’ve ever met in my life. There’s even a picture of her dressed up as a cheerleader from the show.
She pulls a key from her pocket and unlocks the door, walking in first. I follow. I’m surprised at how clean the room is. For some reason, I had her pegged as the messy type. Her room is small, reminding me of my dorm. Much like the door, there are One Tree Hill posters lining the walls.
“Where did you find all of the posters?”
Because that show has been off TV for a long time.
“Ebay, baby. You’d be surprised what you can find there.” She goes to her dresser and pulls out two pairs of shorts. “The bathroom is over there.”
She points to the only other door in the room. I go in, closing the door behind me. Just by looking at the shorts, I can pretty much eliminate one pair, so I set them on the vanity. They’re as short as the ones she’s wearing. Unzipping my pants, I kick them off and then put the black shorts on. They’re still shorter than I’d like, but I’m already cooling down, so that’s a plus.
When I go back into the room, Jas whistles.
“Dang girl. Look at those legs.”
“They’re not too short, are they?”
She points to her own shorts. “You’re asking the wrong person. I only keep the pair you’re wearing so my mom doesn’t freak out when I visit.”
She motions for me to follow. We go back outside and begin bringing in boxes, stacking them around the bar. I can’t help but notice how dead it is. And how I keep looking for Saint and King to show up.
“Where is everyone?”
“They’re either sleeping off whatever they did last night, or they’re at their own places.” She lifts another box. “But, they’ll all be here tomorrow, so we need to be ready.”
We work for the next hour, chatting easily. It’s hard to believe this is the same person who didn’t want to chat with me on my first night. Jas says it’s because she doesn’t like opening up to new people, because, in her experience, most people can’t hang with the lifestyle that comes with the club. I guess I can forgive her for that.
Jas closes the door as we bring the last box inside. “Thank god for air conditioner. I’m sweating in places that no one should ever sweat in.”
“Me too. Thank you again for letting me borrow the shorts.”
“No problem.” She looks at the boxes and says, “I’ll start to unload the booze if you don’t mind unloading the food.”
“Sure.”
I grab a box marked condiments and carry it through the swinging doors. Again, I’m taken back by how unorganized the kitchen in. I put the box on the floor and then peek my head out the door.
“Do you think anyone would mind if I moved some things around in here?”
Jas is sitting on the floor behind the bar, unloading some alcohol. She glances up at me, as if I’ve lost my mind.
“I don’t think anyone would mind, but it’s probably pretty nasty in there,” she warns me.
“Cool. Thanks.”
I go back into the kitchen, looking around. Time to make some changes.
I spend the next few hours scrubbing the kitchen from floor to ceiling. Jas wasn’t kidding – it’s disgusting. Obviously, the health inspector hasn’t ever been here. When everything is clean and the scent of mildew is replaced with bleach, I begin moving equipment around. The breadbox goes further down the stainless-steel counter, so it’s closer to the walk-in refrigerator. I move the bus-tubs next to the giant sinks, away from the food prep area. And then I do my personal favorite task and arrange the spice rack in alphabetical order.
Jas pops her head in and lets out a gasp. “Oh my god. It looks awesome in here!”
I grin. “Thanks. I worked in a Mom-and-Pop diner last year. Picked up a few things there.”
“Can you cook?”
“A little.”
I’m being modest. I can cook – well, from what others have told me – but I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging.
She glances at her phone. “It’s almost dinner. You should throw something together for us and the girls. Get to know everyone.”
I hedge. “I’m not sure. Claws didn’t seem like she wanted to get to know me the other day.”
“Fuck Claws. No one likes her. She’s only here because she gives really good head.” She grins. “But seriously, get to know the others. You’ll like them.”
That makes me laugh. Jas does have a point. If I’m going to be here all summer, then I don’t want drama with any of the other girls.
I ask, “Do you have a nickname?”
“Yeah. It’s Jasmine, like the princess from Aladdin, but everyone calls me Jas.”
She looks nothing like the princess from Aladdin. She must guess my train of thought, because she throws her head back, laughing.
“I used to be a stripper before I started working here. Let’s just say it has something to do with that and the outfit I was wearing the day I met Saint.”
I feel a flash of jealousy deep in my stomach. The feeling is immediately replaced with one of shame. I shouldn’t be jealous of her. It’s not my business what she or Saint do in their spare time, even though the thought of them hooking up makes me a bit envious.
I ask, “What do you think everyone would like for dinner?”
Anything to get my mind off Saint.
She thinks. “Did we get any steaks in?”
“Two cases.”
“Can’t go wrong with steak.”
I grin. “Tell everyone to be here in two hours.”
“I can’t wait. I seriously can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal!” She pulls out her phone. “I’m going to text them right now.”
She walks away, typing furiously. Looking around, I plan what I’m going to make. And then I get to work.
Two hours later on the dot, Jas comes back into the kitchen.
“Oh my god. Olivia!”
She looks around, her mouth gaping. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve outdone myself.
“Is everyone here?”
She nods. “Yeah. Shit. I think we’re underdressed for this meal.”
I laugh. “I may have gotten carried away.”
“This is amazing. Everything smells so good!”