6 Days To Valentine by LE Franks

Author:LE Franks [Franks, LE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay Romance
Publisher: Wilde City Press
Published: 2014-02-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

DAY FOUR – TUESDAY

Rachel was sitting at a table by the window, drinking three-olive Bombay Blue Sapphire Martinis, one after another. The man seated across from her looked like a cross between Al Gore and Herman Munster, obviously another attorney if you took into account the thousand-dollar suit. He was taking his whiskey straight and cheap; which seemed to describe him to a tee.

Rachel normally drank like a sailor; the only time she brought business there was when she wanted her opponents to think she was a weak, soulless lush. I had started thinning down the gin pretty aggressively for each successive round, the under-pour going into a special glass I kept behind the bar. After opposing council left, I’d be making her one hell of a drink. Simone had cruised by my station to bitch about it.

“He gave me a dollar tip on an eighteen-dollar tab. He was too cheap to let me have all the change out of a twenty, which is still a crappy tip, but you can pretend it doesn’t make you a cheap dick.”

“Language, S,” I teased. “Maybe he’s got a kid in college—you know how expensive that can be.”

She flipped me off, and I slid a half-shot of tequila in front of her to bring her down a notch. Not that we let the staff drink during shift, but circumstances warranted a little off-the-book behavior before she got it into her head to roll him for lost income.

I looked around the packed room. I loved Tuesdays at Frisson. It was unofficially Ladies Night, though say it out loud and you’d get eye rolls and bar snacks thrown at you.

We had a gym across the street and down the block close its doors to men from three to seven every Tuesday evening, before returning the favor for the men from eight until closing at midnight. It was wildly popular for both sexes. I’d been known to scam a visitor’s pass a time or two for some late night exercise in their weight room. Surprising how much of a workout one can get in a thirty-minute break if you put your mind to it.

It seemed that once they finished sweating, steaming, and spa-ing, women were primed for a night of greasy bar food and strong drinks—and they loved me, flirting shamelessly, begging for one original cocktail after another.

I’d created an unofficial Ladies Night menu featuring all the special drinks I’d mixed over the years, named after the women and men who asked for them. My fan club would pass the newest inventions on down the line until I was making them one right after another. It was a great way to memorize the recipes.

Not surprisingly, with all the women already there, the men weren’t far behind. By ten, the place was rocking. We made so much money off the gym members that Blake would comp the owner a lunch once a week or so.

FatBoy had been making his usual rounds but hadn’t done more than wave at me from across the room.

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