Aarica smiled up at the sign on the front of the bar. The Painted Pig. The illustration of a pig wearing lipstick aroused all kinds of questions, which she intended to ask inside. Then she’d ask about job openings.
She wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans and entered the bar. The place looked clean and smelled of fried foods and spirits. Two TVs were at opposite corners of the bar, and a couple guys sat there watching sports highlights.
They looked around at her and gave her nods of greeting before returning to their sports.
Well, her cousins would approve. The place seemed reputable, anyway.
“Can I help you?” A woman appeared, her arms burdened with a heavy crate. She moved behind the bar and dumped it on the counter before turning her attention to Aarica.
“Hi, I’m Aarica. I thought I’d stop in and see if you need any waitresses or bartenders.”
The woman’s eyes slid up and down her. “You look young.”
“I’m twenty-three.”
Still sizing her up, she nodded. “You ever served before? Bartended?”
“I did two years at a pizza place near the farm where I grew up.”
The woman groaned. “Fresh off the farm. You’ll be lucky to make it a night here.”
She ignored the comment and latched on to the rest of the statement. “Does that mean I’ve got a job?”
“We can use an extra hand on Monday nights. The games pack the house, and my other waitress can’t always keep up. Ever used a fryer before?”
She nodded. “The pizza place where I worked had wings and fries on the menu.”
“That’s all you need then. You’re hired. Come back at seven. That’s when we get busy.”
Trying not to let her surprise show that getting a job had been so easy, she stepped closer to the bar. “What’s your name again?”
“Fiona. I own this place.”
She looked around. “The Painted Pig.”
“Yup.”
“What’s it mean?”
Fiona eyed her. The tough little blonde had an exterior that would put most grown men in their place, but something about her smile reminded Aarica of one of her older female cousins who always took her under her wing.
“Come back at seven and you’ll see what the name stands for.”
“Uhh, okay. Should I wear anything special?”
“Yeah, a turtleneck if you have one.”
She blinked. “A turtleneck?”
“Yeah, with a body like yours, fights will break out over you. Can’t have that.”
Aarica stared at her for a long minute.
Finally, the woman laughed. “I’m kidding. Just wear something comfortable you can work in.”
With a smile, Aarica wagged her finger at her new boss. “I’ll have to watch out for you, I see. Thanks, and I’ll be here at seven.”
“If you can handle it.”
Aarica left the bar with a smile plastered on her face. Food service wasn’t fantastic pay, but it was a start and would fill in some gaps. Plus, she wouldn’t have to worry about her shifts overlapping her nanny duties with Jay, since that was during the day.
Since she didn’t have much to do now besides wait for seven o’clock to roll around, she took a drive. Exploring Mersey and the nearby area had been something she longed to do, and now seemed to be a good time. The quaint town had an old charm mixed with tourist spots, and she stopped at a couple shops to browse. Then she got in her car and looked to the skyline. The mountains hung as a breathtaking backdrop against the low buildings scattered through the low elevation making up Mersey.
But in the distance, a tall Ferris wheel had been luring her in since the moment she drove down that highway. Rumor was that Mersey boasted its own fairgrounds, open almost year round for the tourists. She couldn’t wait to check it out.
When she continued to follow the route, she eventually spotted a sign that the fair was open Thursday through Sunday. She paused at the gates to stare in. A big bandstand, rides, lemonade and burger stands were all currently closed up and that big Ferris wheel really was the showstopper. She could see how, between the townspeople and tourists, this place must be booming on weekends.
She spotted a flyer flapping on a nearby pole and peered closer at the big letters.
AUTISM AWARENESS
She got out of her car to read the fine print, and saw that the local motorcycle club, The Dark Falcons, was putting on a benefit night, with all proceeds going to help autism.
The Dark Falcons. Her stomach bottomed out, but a rush of warmth poured into the hollow.
Patriot sported the Dark Falcons patch on his leather jacket.
Knowing the man she made out with was part of this only piqued her interest more about him. A big, tough guy who also worked on a construction crew helped raise money for a cause such as autism?
She took out her phone and snapped a photo of the flier to show to Mrs. Post. Then she headed down the road farther, meandering toward the mountains, her thoughts pinned firmly on Patriot.
The man had been haunting her dreams since their encounter. Seeing him working on the Posts’ roof might have been coincidence. But now this? Surely, it was a sign of some kind that she would cross paths with him again. And when she did…then what? His scorching kisses wouldn’t be forgotten soon. Now she felt more drawn to the man, and for reasons beyond physical attraction.
When Aarica walked into the packed house, she paused in the entrance to gulp down her shock. She never realized there were this many thirsty people in Mersey. And wasn’t there a limit on the number of people allowed in?
She pushed through the crowd to the bar. Fiona glanced up from pouring what appeared to be a line of ten shots. “I’m glad you’re early,” she threw out to her.
“What can I do?” She rounded the bar and jumped in to action.
Fiona reached under the counter and then grabbed something black. She tossed it at Aarica, and she caught it easily. Thank goodness her male cousins had kept her on her toes, always tossing dinner rolls or baked potatoes at her across the table.
“Put that on and take some orders,” Fiona called out.
As she wrapped the apron around her middle and tied the strings, she bounced up to a group of customers clustered at the corner. “Hi! Have you been waited on?”
“No, and we’re parched.” One of the men grinned at her, earning an elbow in the side from his buddy.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“You don’t have a pen and paper.”
“I don’t need it. I’ll remember.”
“We’ll see about that.” The guy proceeded to give her a complex drink order, and his friend added to it with his own detailed drink as well as wings with a certain dipping sauce that she wasn’t sure if the Painted Pig served.
“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She turned to the liquor wall and searched for the bottle.
“What did they order?” Fiona asked.
Aarica told her, still searching.
She grunted. “Assholes. Third bottle on the second shelf.”
“Thanks.” Aarica pulled it down as well as a second bottle. She grabbed a couple glasses and quickly poured their drinks. After she delivered them to the customers and received their money, she spun to Fiona. “They want a dozen wings and siracha sauce.”