“Sure.” I glanced around, studying the counter. The only person who remained was Lonnie, who was still as amiable as ever. Even if he did try to snatch my box beneath the counter and make a dash for it, I was certain I could catch him.
“I’d like to get out of here early. Can you handle the bar?”
Fuck a duck. I was actually going to ask her the same thing. I wasn’t thrilled about giving Marius the dagger, but I wasn’t comfortable about keeping it in plain sight either. Since she’d let me slide on my inability to stock the bar—although she’d noticed and I’d received a deserved reprimand—I figured staying and taking care of clean up was the least I could do.
“No problem.”
She smiled, gave me a quick hug, retrieved her purse from under the bar and rushed off. I sighed, shook my head, and looked at Lonnie. The poor bastard was absolutely crestfallen, and I wasn’t sure why. When he saw me staring at him, he finished off his drink and slammed his glass on the counter.
“Fuck it,” he said and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Just fuck it.”
“You okay, Lonnie?”
“I’m fine. Just fed up. I don’t even know why I bother. I’ve been coming here for years. I don’t know why I thought things would ever change.”
“I’m not sure I follow.” I stepped over to the counter and leaned against it. “Want to talk about it?”
“Her.” He waved at the curtains Deena had disappeared behind on the stage.
“Deena?” At his nod I asked, “What about her?”
“It’s hopeless. She’s beautiful, smart, and can have any man she wants. When you pit me against the suits that come in here, I’ll come in last every single time.”
There was a vital piece of the puzzle I was missing, but I wasn’t sure where it was. Yes, I had a vague notion Lonnie was interested in Deena. Anyone with eyes could see the affection he had for her. But he’d never said a thing about it until now.
“Why did you sit at my end of the bar?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to see if she’d take the time to come over and say hello.”
Oddly enough, I felt bad for Lonnie. The dating game really sucked unless you were the bachelor chosen and given the winning rose. He might not be the best looking man in the bar, but he was stable. Big and dependable men needed love too. He showed up each night like clockwork, ordered the same thing, and he didn’t care much for throwing bills at the dancers. I suppose in a way the BP was his own place to hide, to feel comfortable among strangers.
“It was a busy night. She didn’t really have a chance to socialize.” Partially true, but partially a lie. If Deena wanted to make time, she would have made it. And I hadn’t seen her speak to Lonnie all night.
“She had plenty of time to socialize, just not with me.” His face started turning red and his tenor deepened. “She didn’t have a problem with blondie chatting her up while she worked.”
The air around me thickened, prickles tickled the skin on my neck. “Blondie?”
“The big guy who kept ordering Samuel Adams from her instead of coming to you. Seemed like he was asking for one every fifteen minutes.” Lonnie scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “I guess when you’re young you can consume more alcohol than an old man like me.”
“Are you talking about the walking billboard for good looks?”
Damn the filter between my brain and mouth, it was the wrong thing to say. The hurt my words caused was irreversible, and I wished I could take them back.
“Does it make you feel better to point it out?”
“I’m sorry,” I said and meant it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’m out of here.”
I was frowning at Lonnie’s back when his words computed. I hadn’t asked Deena why she wanted to leave early, but I knew the score. She didn’t get her freak on inside the club, and she rarely allowed patrons to pick her up, but she had been known to break the rules from time to time. The blond man with the large guns and perfect body would be something she couldn’t say no to.