BAR CONFESSIONS
FAITH
Onyx eyes the two women who come into Nectar. “What the fuck?”
Alison Stryker, whose face probably shows up under “Nice Church-Going Lady” in the thesaurus, and her friend Geena Stinson, who organizes the church bake sale every year, primly sit at the bar at Nectar, astrip club.
There’s a stripper, right now, shaking her ass on the stage. All she’s wearing are pasties over her nipples, and a flimsy strip of fabric to hide what she has between her legs.
“Hello,” Alison says, her back straight, like she’s keeping a brave face. I think she is.
Onyx looks about ready to have a heart attack.
We’ve only been open for half an hour, so things are still slow. In the lull, Onyx was teaching me how to make a smoked Old-Fashioned—Nectar style. It’s not all that different from the classic, except they use a fancy house blend of bitters and call it theNectar Drip. Whatever!
We’ve been practicing all week, and I’ve been tasting carefully so I’m not drunk. Onyx, on the other hand, tossesdrinks back with ease because she has the constitution of an alcoholic. Her words.
I set the menus in front of the two women, who smile…warmly.
What in the world is going on?
They read the menu. Their eyes go wider and wider. Their eyebrows curve up and up, until they’re almost hitting the hairline.
I mean, we have a variety of cocktails with names likeMorning After, which is made with espresso, whiskey, and regret,accordingto the menu.
“What does regret mean?” I ask Onyx.
“Absinthe,” she says pithily.
There’s a blue curaçao cocktail calledSlippery When Wet.
We have a peach schnapps vanilla vodka monstrosity calledBarely Legal.
There’sDirty Knees,Blow me First(shooter with whipped cream topping…yeah, real subtle),Cherry Popped,Lap Dance Lemonade,G-String Gimlet,Barely Dressed; and the ever-popularKiss & Lick, which are layered shots meant to be drunk with a partner.
“I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Alison says.
Geena licks her lips. “I’ll have the Lap Dance Lemonade,” she whispers as if she isn’t asking for a drink but anactuallap dance.
Onyx, with mischief dancing in her eyes, turns to me and loudly announces, “One Diet Coke and one Lap Dance Lemonade, you make sure it’s sweet and sticky like I taught you, Faith.”
The women go pale. I roll my eyes.
After their drinks are served, they both clear their throats in tandem and then call my name out together.
“Yes, Mrs. Stryker, Mrs. Stinson?” I give them a small smile.
They are the worst gossips in Silverton, and I know they’re here to get the juice to take back to Main Street and do their part in demolishing whatever is left of my reputation, which isn’t much.
“We hear you’re thinking about leaving Silverton.” Alison hasn’t touched her drink, except to hold it as if it’s a weapon or…perhaps, a lifeline?
Right! They’re here to kick me out.
“Yes,” I say softly. I don’t want drama in my place of work. I just want peace.
“You shouldn’t leave,” Geena blurts out.
“Huh?” Onyx gasps from behind me.
