Big Girls on Top (2 page)

I had some almost appropriate clothes in the back of my closet…somewhere.  But I saved them for family get-togethers, and the occasional funeral.

My fiery red hair—yeah, I’m a ginger—was pulled up atop my head, curls falling in a fashionable mess around my heart-shaped face.
  And you guessed it, my eyes are Irish green.

But I had a black-belt in covering up my freckles.  No one besides my immediate family knew I even had them.

*****

2
am came and I gave last call, and still no Quinn.

I stocked the beer coolers, left a list of bottles of liquor I’d need for tomorrow
night
beside the till, so Tom the daylight guy could get them out from the locked alcohol store room—days were slow, so he did the liquor stocking and cut the fruit.  I stocked the beer coolers, balanced the till and cleaned the bar.

I had all this done, and had cashed out the waitresses and the dancers of their ones and fives—giving the
m
big bills so we didn’t have to go to the bank for tip change every day.  And
there
still
was
no sign of Quinn or Teddy.

Damn…I was just going to have to go home without seeing Mr. Gorgeous again.

Maybe I’d ask Teddy for the man’s phone number tomorrow?

But with a pang of uneasiness I knew I wouldn’t.  The man was all kinds of fine, and if he’d come out of the office and flirted with me again…well, I’d feel empowered to
make a move…oh, man…I’d rock his world!  But that was probably the buzz from the four shots I’d downed this shift.

Now that I was sobering up—and wow, it was freaking cold outside as I made my way out to the parking lot with the other girls—I didn’t think going anywhere near that man was a good idea.

I knew my league.  I’m a full figured, rather hot babe with a mean wit and curves that could flatten the average man.

But Quinn was…

Quinn was extraordinary to behold.  He was the kind of man women dream about, wr
o
te bad poetry in their diaries about—he’s the kind of man they join support groups to get over when he invariably dumps them.

I didn’t want to join a support group.  I didn’t want to be just another notch in his headboard, and then be forgotten by sun up.

I’d just wanted to have him for the night, get him off
—g
et myself off, a few times
—
and then run like hell hoping he’d never remember where he’d met me.

But that plan had died when I signed the register balance slip, tugged on my warm, brown leather jacket, and headed out with the girls to scrap unseasonal frost off our car windshields.

Candy was telling Nadia, “Maybe if you gained some booty back there, maybe you’d get a little more balance on stage…and maybe you should try some shorter heels.”

Nadia pursed her lacquered maroon lips and stopped, trying in vain to see her feet around her huge honking chest.

“I don’t know.  My boobs cost five grand last year.  I don’t think I’ll be able to afford butt cheek implants until next year.”

Candy groaned and shook her head.

“And anyways, I’ve got a closet full of five inch heels, and Bev here thinks I should get a better car before I spend any more on…well, home improvements.”

Candy and Shirley looked at each other, and then at me, and we all burst out laughing.

“Home improvements?” Shirley panted as she leaned against me for support.  She smelled of a fine
, clean
citrus blended with a subtle hint of vanilla.  “Where do you get this shit?”

Nadia looked confused, and then she looked put out.  I shook off my laughter and pulled the conversation away from her verbal blunder.

“I just meant that before you get anymore surgeries, you should invest in a better car.”

We all turned and gazed at the rusty little
silver
Miata with the bald tires, cracked windshield and dragging muffler.  When she turned the damn thing over it sounded like a demolition derby—crashes and everything.

“Bev’s got a point,” Shirley said.

“Yeah, definitely
...
you need new wheels,” Candy said.

Tammy Fay was heading up the rear, since nobody could stand her.  “And what if your fake tits start to freeze while you’re driving home one night in that piece of shit?  Do you really think they can just unthaw those puppies?”

Nadia turned bone white, and then her cheeks blazed scarlet before she turned and crammer herself behind the wheel of the rusty clunker, turned it over and filled the air with ear splitting noise pollution. 

The damn thing chugged out on her twice before she made it out of the parking lot, and we watched grimly as she
charmed the ailing motor over again and again, finally making it to Pen Avenue. 

It was late, so she would probably run all the lights to keep the engine running until she got home.

“Was it something I said?” Tammy Fay said
and
shrugged
,
obviously not giving a shit,
and then headed over
to
defrost her shiny blue Impala.

I was about to say something scathing about Tammy Fay to Shirley when I heard someone jogging up behind us.

We’d had problems in the past with handsy, drunken patrons waiting outside, trying to get a phone number, cop a feel, and once time trying to force themsel
ves
on one of us.  That fucker hadn’t fared too well before the ambulance came to cart his sorry ass away. 
We
ladies had handled his punishment, with prejudice.

Fear gripped me as I reached into my purse and grasped the stun gun I’d bought myself for Christmas last year, swung around and thrust the hand held defense tool into my attacker and squeezed the button.  Ten thousand volts of grade A electricity
sparked the night to a dim blue glow, and my attacker stopped in his tracks and stood there, shaking for a moment.

And then I saw who it was…

Quinn…

Double damn!

I let off the juice and the man crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. 

Shit! 

“What the hell?”
boomed
Teddy’s scratchy voice.  He jogged over and looked down at his fallen friend.  “What the fuck did you do to him?”

I looked to Shirley, but her face was a portrait of shock. 

Tammy Fay sauntered over and looked down at Quinn.  “Well, at least she didn’t shock him in the balls like she did the last dumbass that snuck up on her out here.”

Shirley snickered.  Even Teddy had to wipe the guilty grin off his face as he kneeled down to get a better look at Quinn.

“Really Teddy, you ought to post signs that you will get fucked up by the bartender if you fuck around in the parking lot
—s
a
v
e everyone a hell of a lot of trouble.  Cause you’re gonna get sued one of these days.”  And just like that Tammy Fay turned and got into her car and sped away.

Teddy put his head down close to Quinn’s face and listened for a few seconds.

Good lord
, shepherd
and Judea, let him not have a heart condition!

“He’s still breathing,” Teddy called out, and that’s when Quinn groaned in agony.

“You alright, buddy?” Teddy asked, trying to help Quinn sit up.

“Did I get hit by a car or something?” he asked in a dazed voice.

“No,” Teddy said.  “You accidentally scared Bev here when you were trying to ask her out—”

Ask me out?  Fuck, fuck, fukity fuck, fuck!

“—and she kind of zapped you with her stun gun.”

Quinn still looked dazed, but then his eyes focused, and he shook his head, and then he growled.  I mean, he fucking growled like a freaking wolf.  Or maybe a pit-bull. 

“I’m real sorry for that,” I said.  He looked up and eyed me angrily.  My voice fell to a whisper.  “We’ve had trouble out here before.  It wasn’t personal or anything.”

Quinn’s jaw was set and you could feel the rage rolling off him in waves.  I backed up as he picked himself up off the gravel parking lot and staggered off towards a huge black Silverado truck, angled himself up and behind the wheel, and
then
peeled out onto Pen Avenue like a bat out of hell.

We all watched silently until the growl of his engine faded to nothing.

“I’m so sorry, Teddy,” I said, my head bowed low.  “I hope he comes back sometime so I can apologize properly.”

Teddy got this demented smile on his face—he usually only got that smile when he was about to tell us the state had come up with a new way to estimate
the
tips
we were supposed to be claiming
.

“He’ll be back in tomorrow night,” he beamed as my mouth dropped open for like the hundredth time that night.  “He’s going to be managing the joint while I’m on vacation.”

“Ah...wha…huh…?”

He turned and started walking to his mid-life-crisis mobile—a sleek red Porsche.  “I’m going on vacation, to the Florida Keys for four weeks, and Quinn is going to fill in for me
.  A
nd no I’m not cancelling, and
fuck no
I didn’t tell any of you!
You-all always find a way to lo
u
se
up
everything every time I plan a getaway.”

He turned and shot me and Shirley with a scathing look.  “So just suck it up, try not to kill Quinn, because he’s a friend of mine, and he was just trying to be friendly…beats the hell out of me why he’d try being friendly to you, Dirty Harriet!  But just don’t kill, scar or maim him, okay?”

I nodded and Teddy got into his Pors
c
he and rocketed out of the parking lot, probably to the airport before Quinn could call him and pull out.

Oh god…

What the hell was I going to do?

I stood there and waved good bye to Shirley as she drove away…and about ten minutes later I still didn’t know what I was going to do.

Quit?

Fake my death?

Move to another state?

I loved my job, and the people I worked with.  And I’d been born and raised in The Burg.  I wasn’t going to quit my job and move away just because some stupid stud got put down by ten thousand volts trying to ask me out…

He was trying to ask me out…

Mr. Gorgeous was trying to ask me out?

When had I missed that part?

*****

After getting practically no sleep, treating myself to a cold shower to try and get my thoughts on anything besides Quinn’s gorgeousness…and then ruining three pairs of nylons trying to get ready for work, I still didn’t know whether I was amped to see Quinn again, or dreading it.

He had been about to ask me out.

Then I
’d
stun gunned him into unconsciousness.

And when he
’d
woke
n
up he looked highly pissed and high tailed it out of there.

I was confused; to put it mildly.

Traffic was light as I flew across the 16
th
Street
B
ridge and stopped at the grungy White Castle to down a few burgers, a side of fries, a side of onion rings and a large cherry Coke.

Don’t look at me like that.  I get hungry when I’m nervous…

I pulled into the parking lot at
Frisky Kittens
with enough time to spare to try and apologize to Quinn.  I needed to do that first and foremost.  I just had to set things right.

I stopped right outside Teddy’s office, suddenly realizing I should have brought a peace offering.  Mental head slap…a big one!  Maybe I could get Shep to whip up a platter of garlic wings to smooth things over with.

The door to Teddy’s office flew open and a tear streaked Nadia tromped out, her balance wavering with every distraught step, her skinny ankles shaking on their too high heels
.  M
ascara had dripped over her gargantuan knockers, making them look chocolate chip flavored.

I looked into the office and found Quinn standing wide
-
eyed and stricken behind Teddy’s desk.  He had a pair of half inch pumps in his hands.

Oh no…he hadn’t…

“I thought
these would be like training wheels,” he muttered, and then dropped the shoes on top of the desk. 

And then all the oxygen got sucked out of the room.  Standing there, one moment thinking
What an knuckle head…
and then the next getting overcome by the man’s preternaturally good looks, I was about to fall over from the strain.