Crooked Paths by Deb Pines

Author:Deb Pines [Pines, Deb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2020-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

EVEN IF LENNIE didn’t need the money anymore, she needed the work. To occupy her hands and her brain.

So when someone bagged on the night shift, she said she would fill in. And she was glad to be busy.

She was assigned to the lobby bar. She got her bartender license in high school to earn extra cash. She mainly used her skills at school, to mix drinks for friends.

Now that she was 19, she could get a legit bartender job and earn more.

Starting at 6, customers mainly wanted easy stuff: beer, wine, gin and tonics, screwdrivers.

She got through a big rush of drinks. At a lull, she looked around. Couples and friends and families seemed to be having a good time, chatting and drinking in the high-ceilinged lobby space.

Around them were touches of old—an antique grandfather clock, old chandeliers and the original callboard for bellmen behind the check-in desk—and new—such as new chairs and couches, a row of motorized scooters for elderly guests and a baby grand piano.

When a cute dude sat down at the piano, a few customers joined him in singing Broadway show tunes.

They were singing, “Hello Dolly,” when an older woman at the bar waved to get Lennie’s attention.

“I’ll have a Manhattan,” she said.

After Lennie nodded and turned to go, the woman called her back.

“Young lady,” she asked. “What will you put in my Manhattan?”

Lennie smiled.

“I’m a sub here,” she said, in a confidential tone. “So wanna tell me what to put in it? I was going to step away, ask Mister Google for a recipe. And then make it for you.”

The woman smiled back. “Why don’t I save you a step?”

“Thanks,” Lennie said.

The woman was attractive and stylish, dressed in white pants and low-cut, teal-colored blouse. A gold, feather-shaped charm dangled from the longest of three necklace strands in her cleavage.

Was she flirting with Lennie?

If so, Lennie would flirt back. For the fun of it and for a good tip.

Lennie took a step closer. The woman recited the ingredients and Lennie typed them into her phone.

“The best Manhattan you’ve ever had, coming up,” she said, heading off then stopping herself. “Any last-minute advice?”

“No,” the lady said, smiling. “I’m trusting you.”

As Lennie mixed the drink, she tried to stay focused. And not drift off to thinking, again, about her mom.

The detective’s call about their closing the case had caught her off guard. Did her mom really OD? It seemed unbelievable. Marie had left a message for Lennie calling it bullshit.

Lennie also found the cops’ conclusion hard to believe. But maybe her mom had her secrets. Everyone else did. Why not her?

Lennie delivered the drink. Then, for the first time, she noticed A.J., in a corner by the long staircase near the exit for the back porch facing the lake.

When they locked eyes, A.J. smiled. But her smile seemed forced, like she had been watching Lennie interacting with the customer. And was jealous.

Lennie worked steadily for another hour. The whole time, she felt A.J.’s eyes on her.

When Lennie was entitled to a break, she walked over.

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