All the Right Moves(16)
He smiled and picked up the mug. “I guess this makes me a regular.”
“Nope. Come in five days a week for six months and then maybe....”
“That’s some serious drinking. I don’t know...I could embarrass myself.”
She finally smiled. “A tab, or do you want to pay up in case you have another emergency?”
It took him a moment. “Ah, last night, right.” He took a sip. “I forgot I had to be somewhere.”
“That reminds me...” She reached into her back pocket, pulling the stretchy T-shirt across her breasts.
He stared at the cat, saw that it wasn’t just a cat. There was an equation written out within the outline.
“Are you trying to figure out what the cat represents or my cup size?”
John huffed out a short laugh. He’d have to remember she didn’t pull punches. “I was just admiring Mr. Schrödinger’s cat. I’ve never seen it expressed quite so well.”
She tried not to smile as she pulled out some bills and laid them on the bar. “It’ll be the last time I wear the shirt in here, because trying to explain it to these lunkheads all day has given me a headache.”
“What’s that for?” he asked, when she slid the money closer to him.
“Your change from last night. You left before I could cash you out.”
“That’s your tip.”
“Thirty-three dollars?”
He shrugged.
Cassie pursed her lips. She had a nice mouth. “Are you sure? I bet you didn’t think you were leaving that much.”
“I’m sure.”
“All right.” She snatched the bills and stuffed them into her front pocket. “What do you do for a living? Can’t have anything to do with finance.”
He smiled, his mood already improved. “No, but you don’t have to explain T-shirts to me, either.”
She gave him that one with a nod and a grin, but then Lisa called for her to fill an order and Cassie snapped back to her duties. Tugging at her ponytail, she returned to her station. It gave him a chance to admire her cute, slightly upturned nose and the long graceful curve of her neck. He already knew she had a nice behind but he was careful not to ogle.
He hoped she came back to talk to him after she finished. The couple sitting closer to her were nursing their drinks, so they didn’t need anything. He turned to check out the tables. The older guys in the corner were okay for now. They had a number of beers and shots waiting. John recognized the group from last night, even before spotting the retired air force ball cap, and he nodded to the vet in the wheelchair who stared at him.
The man didn’t acknowledge the overture, but that was okay. Maybe he was protective of Cassie and didn’t like her talking to the new guy. Maybe he’d even pegged John as military or, worse, an officer. He’d run across his share of sergeants who lived to serve their country, honored rank but had no use for the men wearing the stripes. Unfortunately, he also knew a number of officers who didn’t deserve respect.
In that regard the military was like any other business, he supposed. The people at the top weren’t always the brightest and the best. Right now he only cared that Cassie didn’t know he was air force. Or that he was a pilot. To someone like her it probably didn’t matter. Still, for once he just wanted to be John, a guy drinking a beer and talking to the bartender.
Within five minutes the pool players ordered half a dozen pitchers and more customers spilled into the bar. John clenched his jaw each time the door opened, not sure if he was upset because she was kept away from her studies or from talking to him. She was efficient, and he’d done worse things than watch her move, but at this rate, he’d have to empty his mug to get her attention again. He shouldn’t resent it. More customers meant more tips for her.
Hell, he’d just wait everyone out. He wasn’t tired, and didn’t expect he would be for a while. He lifted his mug, but set it aside before he drank. He liked beer just fine, as long as it was cold. She’d see it and know that he wanted another one. When she looked over at him, he mouthed for her not to rush.
His phone buzzed, signaling a text. Even before he looked he knew it had to be Rick.
It was a simple message: · · · — — — · · ·
John hadn’t expected the SOS. He laughed, imagining the scene at the Palms. It seemed his dinner companions had hit the mother lode. And now they had more women than they could handle.