Chapter 2

For the hundredth time, Daisy scanned the business card. Its bold, golden lettering glittered from the top of an old dresser. Of mismatched wood, the bureau was scuffed, as were the other furnishings she’d found at a thrift store. Heart heavy, she abandoned the card.

“Almost two months...” her voice faded.

In an icy rage, Dan had abandoned her. Some days, it seemed more like two decades. Others ... She glanced at the card once more. Had he left only the previous day?

A lengthy exhale escaped her as she tugged a ridiculously tiny, black-and-green plaid pleated skirt over sleek thighs. After shifting it to cover T-back panties, she tucked in a taut white button-down blouse. With a quick swirl of honey blonde hair, she forced a grin as the thin material highlighted a black bra. Sheer, its cups displayed the darkened shadows of rounded areolas if you looked close enough.

And with her, people tended to look plenty close.

At first glance, the waitressing job didn’t offer much pay. However, the tips were excellent. With a quieter sigh, she undid a button. Then another. A peek of lace. Perfect.

Even though it was a dive bar, Daisy needed to pay rent. Gone was the gorgeous apartment. Before storming from her life, Dan paid only the first month. Perhaps she should phone again and ask...

“Nuh-uh,” she murmured while applying thick red lipstick.

At one time, he may have cared, but no more. Well, as far as she knew, since he’d never answered her calls. So, no, he didn’t care anymore.

“World’s shortest marriage.”

While twirling her fingers, she inspected the glittering diamond on the wedding ring. Yes, she continued to wear it. Technically, they were still married.

However, a sudden surge swept through her, and after grabbing her purse, she scooped the business card into it. A final quick check of her makeup and she headed out into a dimming evening sky.

Once at “The Dancing Hoot,” a brick-faced roadside structure, she paused at the entrance. It was her ritual. Head rolling on her shoulders, she scanned both ways along the dusty road, then checked the parking lot, still empty as it was early.

No sign of Dan. Not that he knew where she worked, but rituals didn’t have to be logical.

At last, she sighed and shoved through the entrance. Her five-inch heels click-clacked across rough-hewn, dark plank flooring. Despite helping bring in tips, the shoes killed her feet.

As she weaved between glossy round tables and chairs, a quieter sigh left her. After catching her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, she slowed.

Sad eyes. Lonely eyes. The crowd would be there soon, though. With a shaky grin, she eased a lost curl behind an ear.

“Okay, depressed, but cute,” she whispered before pursing her shiny crimson lips to blow a kiss.

After a heavy breath, the grin faded. Cute enough for tips, but not her husband.

Chest tight, she checked the red faux-leather booths along dark-wooden paneled walls. Condiments were already in place, and napkins refilled. Yep, Shelly was working again. Amongst many exceptional qualities, the woman, a Hoot veteran, was efficient.

While shoving a chair closer to a table, she peered into the poolroom at the rear. It was also prepared.

After a quick nod, she scanned the rest of the main room. The small dance floor was glossy and free of the usual litter. She smiled at a little corner stage, housing a decent enough speaker set-up. And most important of all, the array of wide-screen TVs suspended from the ceiling and lining the walls were on and tuned to the same channel.

It was supposed to be a big game night. Which meant big tips. At her tightening nipples scraping the bra cups, she rolled her lips.

“Mmm, big tips.” She giggled. “Down girls.”

As soon as she opened a battered green wooden door, the quiet giggle faded. Everyone called the tiny space “The Server Room.” Stupid joke. The only computer was the one the owner, Geoff, used in his office to do the books.

A nice enough guy, he was gay. Between him and the bouncers, also playing for the other team, they kept them, his servers, as safe as possible. At times, things could get pretty raunchy.

“Hi, Shelly.”

After pulling the door closed, she smiled at an olive-skinned woman tugging a bra strap free of her sleeve. Shoulder length, wavy dark hair swept her shoulders. Despite her being in her mid-30s, once unrestrained, her boobs hardly dropped at all.

For the past two months, Shelly had been her only saving grace. Along with brutal honesty and street smarts, she also possessed a body to die for. Impressive chest, tiny waist, and long legs leading to a perfect round derriere. While both women were adult enough to admit twinges of jealousy, Daisy was happy to have her as a distraction when they worked together.

“Going for the big money tonight, sweetie?” Shelly asked while dragging the bra from the other sleeve and shoving its thin purple satin into her locker.

“Big? Uh, no. Not, um, yet,” Daisy whispered while stowing her purse in another locker.

Her first night working at the Hoot, Daisy had been in the ladies’ room when Shelly dragged an older heavy-set man inside. With no hesitation, she’d dropped to her knees, her black pumps scratching across the shiny brown tile.

After tugging the man’s cock free, she’d leaned forward. The entire room had blurred when her wide lips slurped, then sunk, engulfing the fleshy tube. Soon enough, those dark tresses were bobbing. Between his ever-louder groans and Shelly’s moaning as her other hand slid under her skirt to rub, Daisy couldn’t tear her gaze away.

In seconds, the man was grunting. After her shiny fingers shoved a wad of cash into her panties, Shelly had wiped a loose white trail from her chin. She’d flashed the widest grin at Daisy before following him from the room. It had taken a long time for Daisy’s heartbeat to slow.

Although she never asked specifics, it was clear Geoff managed to keep “The Dancing Hoot” straddling the line between a popular bar and something more. Much more. Which was fine. It paid well, and he pushed none of the servers to do anything beyond their comfort zones.

Shelly, though. Did she even have a limit?

“Didn’t catch that, Daisy.” Eyes twinkling, the other woman grinned. “Big game tonight. Lotta drunken, horny boys.”

After tugging her top free of the skirt, Shelly was retying it to bare a flat stomach and enhance a very popular deep cleavage. As Daisy scanned the thick dark stems peeking under the sheer white material, another bubble of jealousy wandered within her. Shelly was always, hmm, playful. Even playfully pushy at times.

“Huh?” She turned to her locker. “Sorry, I was lost there.”

“I said, you gonna go for bigger tips tonight, sweetie?” Shelly nodded at Daisy’s chest.