Kathy Love: Fangs But No Fangs

Patrons did that, but it was usually meant in good fun. A laugh and a flip comment would make things cool again. She hoped the same would be true with these men. They seemed a little more forward, and cockier. And they seemed interested in her.

Even now, one of them in a blue button-down shirt and pressed dark blue pants stared at her as she finished loading her tray. And she knew he wasn't checking on the status of his beer.

"Good night," Jed commented in his gravelly voice, jerking a head toward the very full tray.

Jolee wiped the back of her hand across her brow to push her sweaty hair away from her face, and smiled. "Not bad."

"I'd watch them boys, though," he rasped around the cigarette he was lighting. Again he gestured with his head to the table she was already well aware of.

"Yeah, I am." This was the first night she actually felt like she might have a real problem with her customers. On the whole, her patrons just wanted some cold beer and a little conversation. But those men, they seemed like trouble.

She glanced back at the table. The same guy and one of his pals watched her.

Dale Timmons, a regular since she'd reopened the place, waved to her that he'd like another beer. She smiled to let him know that she saw him. She reached down to the shelf beside her and grabbed a mug, filling it. Before she headed back to the floor, she walked down the bar to give Dale his beer.

"Busy, eh?" Dale, a man in his fifties in his ever-present John Deere baseball cap, smiled at her. As usual, Jolee had the inclination to give the older man a hug— his gray eyes always seemed filled with such sadness, like a lost hound dog.

"Yeah, not too bad, but it could always be busier," she said with an easy smile.

Dale nodded. "It will be. Just give it time."

"From your lips to God's ears." Jolee only had so much time to give. Money had to start coming in.

"When are you getting the karaoke going?" Dale asked, as he had every now and then since Leo's Brew Pub and Karaoke Saloon reopened under her management.

Jolee had specifically bought the bar because the place was equipped with a karaoke sound system, the monitors to show the lyrics, and thousands of songs, just waiting to be sung by talented and untalented patrons alike.

"Well, if I can keep business steady, I should be able to start again soon." Lord, she hoped. "I'd have to hire another person to tend bar while I ran the sound system. And right now, finances are just a little too tight for me to hire anyone."

Dale nodded again. "It'll come."

"Hey, sweet cheeks," one of the men from the questionable table called to her. "Are you going to bring us our beer or what?"

She jerked her head in response, then offered Dale a quick smile. "Just keep coming, Dale, and I'll get this place going again."

Dale smiled, the smile not meeting his sad gray eyes. "Will do."

Jolee picked up the heavy tray and walked the length of the bar to exit out onto the floor. She delivered all the other drinks, leaving the pitcher for last. As she approached, all the men watched her with eager expressions, and she knew the anticipation wasn't for the beer.

"Thanks, babe," the blue-shirted man said as she leaned forward to place the pitcher in the center of the table.

She forced a polite smile, then turned to leave, but the man snagged her wrist, pulling her to a halt.

"Where are you going so fast?"

"I have work to do," she stated, yanking her wrist out of the man's tight hold.

The man held up his hands in a pose of surrender. "No need to get so touchy. We'd just like to chat with you awhile."

A couple of the other men snickered, but Jolee ignored them.

"Well, as I said" — she forced another smile— "I don't have time." Nor the inclination, but she didn't add that. Best to play it polite. Money was money— even from overbearing jerks.

"Oh, come on, it's not too busy. Have a seat." He gestured with his thumb for the man next to him to stand, which he did. The blue-shirted guy nudged the chair back farther with his foot.

"Come on, sit."

Jolee shook her head. "No. Sorry." She started away from the table, furious with herself that these jerks were making her nervous. She'd have to learn to deal with more than this. She knew that.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" The comment was followed by loud chuckles.

Jolee stopped, spinning back to them. "Maybe I am hard to get."

One of the men whistled and nudged the blue-shirted guy. She started back to the bar.

"Well, playing hard to get is fine as long as I get some eventually."

Jolee spun around again, even as her better judgment told her to just go back to the bar. Check on her other patrons. Something.

"What did you say?" she demanded from the blue-shirted guy. He seemed to be the ringleader of the group.

The man looked untroubled by her sharp question. "Nothing to get all het up about."

She glared at them. Just stay calm. Blow it off. They've been drinking. But her thoughts didn't calm her.

"I think maybe you gentlemen should leave."

The man smiled, unfazed by her suggestion. She noted that his teeth were white and straight and utterly wasted on him. "That's not very hospitable of you. But you could make it up to me."

He stood up. He wasn't overly tall, about eye level with Jolee, but he was wide with muscled shoulders and a barrel chest.

She stepped back from him, her bottom bumping a chair behind her.

"What do you say? Want to meet me later?"

"Not a chance," she stated, keeping her voice calm even as she gripped the edge of the tray she still held, preparing to hit the jerk with it if necessary.

"And I'd had you pegged as a woman who knows a good opportunity when you see it." The man's eyes raked down her body, making her T-shirt and jeans feel downright indecent.

"Rick, leave her alone," one of his buddies said.

Rick glanced at the other man as if he wanted to argue.

But then, to Jolee's relief, he did sit down, although he still watched her with hungry eyes.

"I think you better leave," she repeated, this time to the man who'd called off Rick. She pushed away from the chair and walked away, keeping her pace steady, refusing to let Rick know how much he'd shaken her. She knew they were watching her, but she didn't glance in their direction as she put the bar between herself and the men.

The ache that had been in her chest all night intensified. The jerk had frightened her, but more than that, he'd just been the last straw. Vance, snotty neighbor, and now this guy. Another guy treating her like dirt.

Tears threatened to choke her, but she bit the inside of her lip and swallowed them back. She wouldn't cry. Not about this. Not about anything. Tears didn't solve a thing.

"Have you ever had the feeling that you are the butt of some colossal joke?" she managed to ask Jed after a few moments.

"All the time." He reached for his pack of cigarettes and tamped one out. "All the time," he repeated as he lit the tip.

"Me, too," she said, mostly to herself.

The men left shortly after that, much to Jolee's relief. They even left money enough for their bill and a decent tip, probably thanks to the guy who'd spoken up for her. But Jolee was too distressed by the whole incident to feel any satisfaction over the slight victory. Even the fact that the night turned out to be the best she'd had since she opened didn't lift her spirits.

As she finished washing up the glasses, she couldn't think about anything but that man's behavior toward her. And her neighbor's. Both of them made her feel so small. So much lower than themselves. And no matter how many times she told herself they were both jerks, she still felt depressed.

"The bathrooms are all cleaned," Jed said, coming out of the men's room with a bucket and mop. "And I'm heading to bed."