Jewella sat slumped up against the bar. Her skeletal hand gripped tightly around a glass of gin.

Coral stood at the DJ booth talking to Mickey and she was not smiling. Mickey rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Since she was still on shift, Coral was clad in nothing but a short lacy robe. Baby Jade knew she didn’t like Mickey or his hands, but Coral couldn’t bring herself to take a stand. Mickey had put his foot down one too many times and that was never a pretty scene. His hand slipped inside Coral’s robe and Baby watched her slink away, clearly pissing Mickey off. He said something that Baby couldn’t make out, and then Coral looked as if she were pleading, or maybe apologizing. She started crying and this time when Mickey ran his hand up the side of her robe, she didn’t move away. He gave a squeeze before pushing her away, using shame to put her in her place. Baby knew the look, having been there before, too many times to count.

Baby Jade heard the first few notes of “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads. Mickey skipped her usual intro, confirming the place was empty. Not that it mattered; she would still give it her best performance.

With her eyes closed, Baby’s body moved in perfect unison with the music. Moving her hips to the beat, she turned her back to the bar and bent over to caress her slender, tan leg. Men loved to see women touch themselves in a sensual way. She may not make any tips without customers, but at least she got paid to practice.

A bright light flashed across the wall, but Baby never broke her focus. She dropped to the floor right on point, arching her back, and popping the corset before slipping out of her thong. She danced to the song for the umpteenth time but worked the stage as if it was her first. Her eyes remained closed to keep from seeing Mickey’s leering face. She made her final move, swinging her hair before folding herself into a crouched position on the floor, letting the mass of black waves fall to one side.

The song ended and Baby looked up before moving out of position. It had become a habit to keep up the seductive façade in case someone was there to tip. When Baby Jade finally allowed her eyes to adjust to the lights, she was shocked to find another pair locked on hers.

The stranger at the end of the bar stared at Baby Jade, sending a shiver from one end of her naked body to the other, leaving her completely exposed. His intense gaze was hot and appeared intentional.

He was gorgeous. His thick, dark hair looked like you could run your hands through it and get lost for hours. Dark eyes resembling deep pools of chocolate bore holes through her. The mystery man sported a heavy beard, but not thick enough to hide the dimples embedded in his flawless cheeks. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and an old t-shirt. And if that wasn’t enough to make Baby wet between the legs, he was plastered with tattoos. Her weakness. They started at his wrists and disappeared under the sleeve of his black tee. The chain wallet and black Dr. Martens weren’t unusual, but she had a feeling he wasn’t a local. The notion only heightened his hotness in Baby Jade’s book.

The few seconds she spent drinking him in felt like an eternity. He didn’t break his trance when Jewella started circling, obviously catching a whiff of the new blood in the room. Baby Jade watched her try to perk up enough to lean across the bar, rubbing her hand over the man’s forearms. The brazen gesture broke the moment and he turned to look at Jewella. Baby picked up her clothing and headed toward the DJ booth to let Mickey know she was leaving but didn’t make it in time before Mickey noticed Jewella drooling over Mr. Tats and bolted to intervene.

Dammit. This place is like the damn Twilight Zone today.

The last thing she needed was to walk into the war zone known as “Jewella in heat, coupled with Mickey’s jealousy.”

Not that she had a choice. He would have a total shit fit if she left without telling him first. And she wasn’t waiting around to get the hell out of this place. Voices rocketed from across the room. She slipped back into her stage costume and stood off to the side, hoping to remain invisible.

“Look man, I didn’t do anything. The chick asked me for a light. I don’t smoke. I told her I didn’t have one.” Mr. Tats stepped back from the bar.

“That’s not what I saw.” Mickey’s not exactly known for being rational.

Of course, Mr. Tats wasn’t backing down. “She said she didn’t believe me and wanted to check for herself. When she touched me, I told her to back up. I’m not here for that shit. I don’t know what kind of place you run, but I’m here to speak to the manager.”

Jewella hopped off the stool and flung herself at Mickey. “I didn’t touch him, baby. You know better than that. You know I can’t help it that men are always throwing themselves at me.” Mickey pulled her in and rubbed her back, consoling her like a child.

He surveyed the tattooed man standing before him, sizing him up. “What do you wanna see the manager about?”

“I got into town a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been helping down at Rodney’s Garage. He doesn’t have much work to offer right now and said the manager here might need some help. Is he in or not?”

Mickey shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, that’s me. I don’t know why he’d send you this way. Rodney’s a good enough guy, but I ain’t up for doing any special favors.”

“I’m not looking for a handout or a free ride. I’m not looking for any favors. Either you have a job or you don’t. I’m a hard worker and low maintenance. I only need something to tide me over until I scrape up enough to move on in a few weeks.”

Baby Jade didn’t know why, but the thought of Mr. Tats moving on in a few weeks didn’t settle well with her.

“What kind of work can you do?”

Mr. Tats shrugged his shoulders. “I can do what you need me to. I’ll clean, cook, schlep bar, whatever.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He also didn’t seem to notice Baby Jade standing off to the side, but Mr. Tats did. He had caught her gaze over Mickey’s shoulder, once again burning holes right through her, reminding her that she was almost naked. Jewella, true to form, had already hopped back up on her stool and ordered another round.

“We don’t need another bartender. Got too many of those already. I can’t have you down in the dressing room with the girls. I can tell by looking at ya that would be a bad idea. Cleaning’s out.” Mickey’s gaze wandered around the room, settling on Jewella. She was still salivating over Mr. Tats. The pathetic woman was aiming for sexy, but instead came off like a hot mess. “I don’t think it’s gonna work out man.”

If only she could see herself, Baby Jade thought.

“Ahem.” Mr. Tats cleared his throat. “Rodney said to let you know if you couldn’t think of anything to keep me on, I was supposed to remind you about the cleanup job he did on the Range Rover a while back.”

Mickey’s back snapped straight. He took a step closer to Mr. Tats, not saying a word.

Mr. Tats continued. “Now, I don’t know what the hell that means. I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer the information. I need to make some gas money.”

Forever passed while waiting for Mickey to respond.

His forehead creased as his brow furrowed. “You and Rodney must be pretty tight. Doesn’t seem right that he’d throw around reminders like that for someone he’s only known for a couple of weeks.”

Baby thought the same thing. It did seem odd, but she wasn’t about to say anything or draw attention to herself. If Mickey realized that she overheard that part of the conversation, he’d be sure to hit the roof.

“Rodney’s a good enough guy. I think we can both agree on that.” That’s all Mr. Tats had to say in return. He clearly wasn’t big on offering information about himself. Baby Jade was hoping he didn’t get a job working at Bottoms Up. She didn’t like the way his mere presence brought out her vulnerability.