There’s no shortage of pigs in LA, either. I should know. I was one once. Until I turned my back on that life and became something even worse.
Which I choose not to think about at this moment.
Escorts are abused all the time. Sure, most of the time they consent to it in worship of the almighty dollar, but sometimes they don’t.
And no one protects them, because the celebrity who did it pays everyone off.
It takes years for serial sexual abusers in LA to get what’s coming to them, if they ever do at all. How many decades did that well known producer abuse women before he was brought down? Everyone knew.
Everyone.
I end up back at The Glass House to speak to Lois about a possible job for Katelyn. Lois is on duty until eleven, so she’ll still be there.
Only a few customers are still dining, but the bar is full of patrons. Working with alcohol doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I got sober during my stay at the hospital. My mind functions a lot better now.
I hate who I used to be, and I try hard not to think about it. It creeps in sometimes, though. I have to deal with it. I can’t outrun the past, no matter how hard I try, so I block it from my mind as much as I can..
I need to stay away from the past. For my own safety.
I shouldn’t be getting involved with Katelyn or anyone else. I’ve been known to get involved too quickly. The old me, anyway.
The me who drank. The me who…did a lot of bad things.
Those things I try hard not to think about.
I’m far from ready to date a woman—especially a woman like Katelyn. She’s beautiful, yes. But something is bothering her, haunting her.
Baggage.
I’ve got enough of my own to deal with. I sure don’t need hers. Still, I’m going to take her to dinner tomorrow. And I’m going to ask Lois about a job for her.
I walk through the restaurant and find my manager in the back, talking to a couple at a two-top.
She looks up at me. “Luke? What are you doing back?”
“I want to talk to you for a minute.”
“Sure. Let’s go to the lounge.” She excuses herself to the patrons.
I follow her to the staff lounge where Mrs. Reid Wolfe nearly gave birth. I steer clear of the couch.
She smiles. “I left a note for the day manager. He’ll call to get it steam cleaned as soon as possible. In the meantime, I left a note on the bulletin board warning everyone what happened on the couch.”
“It’s just her water.”
“Yeah, I know. But still…”
“Right. It’s mostly urine.”
She nods. “Yup. So what’s up, Luke?”
“The woman who was with Mrs. Wolfe… Her name’s Katelyn, and she’s looking for work. I was wondering if you have any openings here at the restaurant.”
“We can always use experienced servers,” Lois says.
I inhale. “She’d be more of a host type.”
“No serving experience?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I don’t need any hosts on my shift. I could check with the day managers.”
Then she wouldn’t be working with me. Our hours would clash. Which is maybe a good thing. This has to go slowly if it’s going to go at all.
“Would you? She’s a personal friend of Zee Wolfe’s. I’m sure the Wolfe family would appreciate it.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Is it?”
“Well…yeah. If she’s that close to Mrs. Wolfe, why don’t the Wolfes give her a job?”
Hmm. Good question, and I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it. “Katelyn wants to do it on her own.” Sure. That’s probably the truth.
“Then shouldn’t she be in here talking to me?”
“Yeah, and I’m sure she will be. She’s doesn’t know I’m asking.”
This isn’t going well.
“I’ll email the day managers. See what’s going on. Rachel and I are both fully staffed for evenings.”
“Thanks, Lo. I appreciate it.”
“Sure, no problem.” She checks her watch. “I’m about ready to go. Trey’s handling the kitchen cleanup tonight. Want to catch a drink somewhere?”
“I don’t drink.”
She cocks her head. “You don’t? I guess I’ve never seen you drink, but I always see you on duty so you better not be drinking.”
“I’m recovering, actually.”
“Oh. No drink, then. Coffee?”
Is my manager asking me out? Or is this a friend thing? I’m not getting a good read on her. Lois is an attractive woman, but she pales next to Katelyn. Still, if I have coffee with her, maybe she’ll go the extra mile to get Katelyn a job.
“I don’t do caffeine in the evenings,” I tell her, “but if you want a drink I can always put away a sparkling water with lime.”
She smiles. “Sounds great. Let me grab my jacket. We can hit Zenobia’s across the street.”
Zenobia’s is a bar with a small dance floor. It’s a club for the people who can’t get into one of the actual clubs. Tonight’s a weeknight, so it won’t be too crowded.
Lois and I take a seat at the bar. “A vodka tonic for me,” she says to the bartender.
He nods toward me.
“Sparkling water with lime.”
He raises his eyebrows slightly. Do I look like a drunk? I get the weirdest looks when I order a non-alcoholic beverage at a bar. A minute later, he slides the drinks in front of us. Lois gives him a credit card. “Run a tab.”
A tab? How long does she think we’re going to be here?
She takes a sip of her drink and lets out a sigh. “Mmm. Rough night at work, with Mrs. Wolfe going into labor and all. I’ve been gunning for a drink all night.”
I bring my water to my lips and nod.
“So…recovering, huh?”
Everyone wants to know the story. I can’t tell them the real one, of course, so I’ve got a canned speech ready.
“Yeah. I got into alcohol heavily when I was a teen because of my shitty home life. I’ve been sober for over ten years.”
There’s a grain of truth in there. The shitty home life part. I’ve only been sober for a few months, though, and I started drinking way before my teen years.
Most people don’t ask too many questions after that.
Lois, apparently, isn’t most people.
“Shitty home life? I’m sorry to hear about that. Is everything good now?”
“Good enough.” I make my tone as noncommittal as I can. “Not something I talk about.”
“Oh, sure. I get it.” She takes another sip. “You want to dance?”
I down my water. “Sure. Why not?” I start to roll up the sleeves of my white button-down but then remember that I can’t. The tattoo will attract more questions I can’t answer. I’m still wearing my black dress pants that I work in.
I don’t enjoy dancing all that much, but it’s better than talking. I’m not sure what Lois’s angle is, but when your boss asks you for a dance, you don’t say no.
There’s no band at this small venue, just a DJ spinning records. Or rather, toying with his Spotify account through a set of Bose speakers.