“Who owns the other half?”
“Our club. Blood Fury.”
Blood Fury was what the patches said on the back of Judge’s vest. “Then who is Crazy Pete?” Was that Stella’s husband?
“Stella’s pop. Died from cancer a coupla years ago.”
Shit. She might not get this job if the owner figured out what Dennis had done.
“So, she does the hiring?”
“For the most part. Or Trip.”
Good lord, she just needed to talk to someone about a job. “Who’s Trip?”
“Her ol’ man. Prez of the club.”
This was all information she wasn’t sure she needed to know, especially since one of the owners was on the premises. “Can I speak with her?”
“Dunno. Can you?” His lips twitched. He turned and bellowed, “Stella!” He then moved away, grabbing a bottle of Captain Morgan and pouring a healthy amount into a glass before filling it with soda the rest of the way. He set it down in front of her, one side of his mouth pulling up slightly as he gave her a wink. He was really handsome, and he knew it. Unlike Judge’s long bushy beard, Dodge’s didn’t hide his face. It was trimmed close. “On my tab. I’ll get ‘er.”
“Thank you.” Cassie lifted the glass and took a sip, doing her best not to cough. It was stronger than she normally drank. She was more of a wine drinker, anyway.
“Hey,” came a deep voice from next to her.
To her right sat a man staring at her. “Hi.”
“You from around here?” The dark-haired man, wearing a very worn flannel shirt, leaned closer, the whiskey on his breath smelling stronger than her drink.
“I—”
“Hey,” came out on a breath from the black-haired woman as she stopped in front of her on the other side of the bar. She glanced at the patron sitting next to Cassie. “She’s here for a job interview, not to be picked up, Lenny.”
Lenny shrugged and grinned, showing off his dozen remaining teeth. “Can’t hurt to be friendly.”
The woman jutted out her hand over the bar. “I’m Stella. Dodge said you saw the ad.”
“Yes. I—” Cassie noticed Lenny still staring at her. Leering, more like it.
Stella pressed her lips together and then jerked her head. “C’mon. We’ll find an empty table to talk. Bring your drink.”
Cassie grabbed the glass, climbed off the stool and waited for the slender woman to make her way out around the bar. Then she followed Stella to a table in the back by the stage, where less people were.
“Sit.”
Cassie sat.
“Business is picking up and we need help. But to be upfront, I own half this bar, my ol’ man’s club owns the other half. So, you’d be basically working for an MC. Do you have a problem with that?”
“An MC?”
“Motorcycle club.”
Ah, yes. There had been a square “MC” patch on the back of Judge’s vest, too. “Should I?”
Stella smiled and it reached her light blue eyes, which were stunning, especially in contrast with her long black hair. “No. We run a tight ship, doing our best to make it successful. It’s not a biker bar, just owned by a bunch of bikers. So, it’s safe. It’s getting to be more successful and I’m starting to need more help. Which is why I ran the ad, of course.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Dodge is a member of the MC, lives upstairs and helps me manage the bar. So, you’d have to listen to him, too.”
Cassie’s eyes slid back to the bar where Dodge was still hustling, keeping everyone’s drink full. “He lives upstairs?”
“Yes, so if you ever need help, he can be down here in a flash. Have you ever been a server before?”
“No.”
Stella frowned. “Well, this isn’t a fancy place, so it’s really not hard. You just need to get everyone’s drink order right and get it to them quickly. They aren’t the biggest tippers in here, but it’s something. Do you know how to bartend?”
“No.”
“Are you willing to learn?”
Cassie nodded. “Yes. But...”
Stella lifted a brow. “But?”
“I... also need to be upfront about something.”
Stella sat back in her chair. “Ooookay...”
Cassie leaned in a bit and lowered her voice even though she was sure no one could hear them over the music. “I’m kind of in a bind.”
Stella’s lips turned down at the corners.
Cassie attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. “I was hoping... I’m looking for employment that could pay me in cash.”
The woman’s frown deepened. “Are you on the run or something?”
“No.” Not in the way one might think. She was not running from the law but from people who judged her harshly because of her husband’s deeds. “I... I’m in the middle of a divorce and without getting into details... My husband’s accounts were frozen and because we were still legally married, so were mine. He...”
Stella raised a hand. “Say no more. All of us have baggage.” Her frown smoothed out. “Typically tips around here are paid in cash since not too many people pay with credit cards. Even so, I don’t have a problem paying you in cash... For as long as you need... I mean, as long as you work out here. But I haven’t hired you yet.”
“I know. But I would appreciate a chance. It’s hard to find a place to work where I can earn cash. And right now, that’s important. Truthfully, I’m a certified vet tech and I’d prefer to find a job in my field...”
“But you’re screwed until your divorce is finalized. I get it. I went through a divorce. It’s not easy, I know.” Stella gave her a crooked smile. “I also know how hard it is to get back on your feet when life cuts you off at the knees. I don’t have a problem training you. I trained Dodge. And he has enough experience now to help you, too.” Stella’s smile widened. “Plus, you look smart enough to mix a rum and coke or pour a draft beer. Not too many people ask for anything fancy in here. If they want fancy, they go to the hotel bar on the square or a fancy restaurant. That isn’t us. We serve more locals than anyone and, for the most part, everyone knows each other and is friendly.”
“That sounds perfect.” Now, she just hoped she’d be hired. She crossed her fingers under the table as she waited.
“I can’t hire you full-time yet. But maybe part-time and you can work for tips. I can also slip you a bit of cash under the table, if that’s what you need, but that would need to remain between us, of course.”
“Yes, that’s what I need,” she breathed in relief. At least until the divorce was final and she could start from scratch again. “Are the tips better bartending?”
“Maybe not better, but you’d get tipped more often since most people sit at the bar. So, we can train you for both. Plus, Dodge tends to close almost every night and he needs a break. As soon as the club recruits some more prospects, we both should be able to get that break. Then we’d depend more on you and the prospects. You okay with that?”
Cassie’s knee bounced under the table in her excitement of getting a chance to start making some money. “Yes. I appreciate the opportunity. I have a daughter—”