Page 26 of Great White
But no matter how hard I try to keep my mind occupied, it always circles back to one thing. To one person — Dove.
The lights flicker for last call, and she’s still not back. I try not to overreact. She made it perfectly clear she didn’t need a babysitter, but she wasn’t just running out to get pizza either.
“Guapo, you’re cute. You’ve been here for five minutes. I’ve been doing this for five years. I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll see you later.”
It’s later, Dove.
I pull out my phone, contemplating something stupid when I hear heavy footsteps across the wooden dance floor. I look up and there she is, walking straight toward me, in one piece. She looks different, though. Her hair is pulled up now, and she’s wearing different clothes. A white T-shirt and ripped-up jeans. She doesn’t even have makeup on. She looks like the woman who drove to Oklahoma with me. A fresh-faced beauty who is as fierce as she is feminine.
“Tweety, you got the cash outs?” she asks, completely ignoring me.
Tweety hands her a thick blue bag filled with all the money and credit card receipts from the night.
“Thank you. Can you hand me a bottle of tequila, too? A good one.”
He obliges without a word.
Shooting me a small smile, she turns to walk away. But I’m not satisfied with that brief exchange.
Quickly, I finish stocking the beer in the cooler and do a half-assed job wiping down the bar.
“Hey, where you going,muchacho?” Tweety barks. “We still got work to do.”
I wave a hand up at him —F-U, buddy.
“Tiburona.” I open the office door and knock.
Dove looks up from behind the desk, a mess of money and receipts spread out in front of her.
“No one is supposed to be up here while I count out.”
“I promise not to distract you.”
“Just by you being in here is distracting.” She leans back in her chair.
“I’m not leaving.”
“I didn’t think you were going to.” She motions for me to sit.
I sit in the red velvet chair opposite the desk. “How was your outing?”
“Successful,” she confirms. “It got a little messy, but it’s nothing I couldn’t handle.Guapo, you look concerned. Were you worried about me?”
“Maybe a little.” I admit.
“Don’t think I can handle my shit?”
“I know you can, I just . . .”
“Just what?”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from giving too many of my feelings away. I was a madman tonight, going out of my mind with worry.
“Just wanted to check in and make sure there were no loose ends that needed to be tied up.”
Dove raises an eyebrow. “Loose ends? That’s it?”
“Yup. Loose ends.”
