come you get to do it?” Colin yelped aggrievedly.
“Maybe because I’ve been here since eleven and you’re an hour and a half late?” Shay tossed his apron in a hamper and ducked under the bar walkthrough.
“Yeah? I say it’s because you haven’t had a date in this decade. You’re married to this bar, big brother. It’s not exactly healthy.”
Shay turned to look at Colin for a long moment. “You have any other observations to make about my personal life?”
“Other than the fact that you don’t have one?” At Shay’s glower, Colin backed up. “Hey, I know, I know, the family legacy is in your hands and all that stuff. Anyway, abstinence is very hip these days.”
“Are you finished?”
Colin grinned. “No, but you wouldn’t listen anyway. Go spy on the half-naked women. Be sure to take notes so you can tell me all about it.”
Shay snorted and headed toward the door.
“You watch yourself, now, young Shay,” Dermott advised. “Those bad girls will tempt a man into all sorts of trouble.”
SHAY COULD HEAR THE PULSING music before he drew close to the line of would-be bar patrons standing restlessly near the door, some tapping their feet in time with the monster bass line. If any of them were over twenty-three, he’d have been shocked. He recognized the beefy man sitting at the head of the line. “Hey, Benny.”
“Hey, Shay. Why aren’t you over pulling pints?” Whoops and cheers spilled out of the open door behind him.
“Thought I’d come on over and see what’s new in the neighborhood.” And do a favor for a friend. Six years before, Dev Carson had been a contractor doing renovation work on O’Connor’s. The two of them had clicked, drawn together by a mutual fondness for sailing and music. Now, Dev was calling for help. Make sure my sister’s not getting herself in trouble, he’d asked. Their friendship was too close for Shay to do anything but agree to watchdog the sister he’d never met.
Benny swept a hand toward the bar. “Be my guest.”
Shay walked in through the open door and into controlled bedlam.
The music throbbed so loud that the walls seemed to vibrate with it. Colored spotlights swirled above a long bar that ran the length of the room. At least, he figured it was a bar. It was difficult to tell because of the wall of people in front of it. And above their heads he saw the two women.
They danced up and down the bar, whipping their hair, swaying to the music, throwing in the occasional bump and grind. The crowd of mostly young men whistled and hollered at every shift of the shapely hips above them. Blond and redheaded, the two played off each other, now dancing in synch, now doing their own moves, strutting down to the brass poles at either end of the bar to spin around.
The half-naked rumor was definitely an exaggeration. They wore hip-hugging pants and skimpy tops designed to flaunt cleavage and tanned midriffs. Nothing more scandalous than you’d see in the average shopping mall. Shay gave a wry smile. Perhaps Colin was right about him being married to the pub—the duo on the bar were designed to tease, but to him they looked harmless, more like sorority babes on spring break than anything else.
It seemed to work for the rest of the clientele, though, who surged whooping and cheering against the bar, completely involved in every movement. The redhead crouched down on the bar with a bottle of tequila and poured it into the open mouth of a frat boy who was leaning his head back, swallowing furiously while his buddies counted to ten. Then he straightened up, grinning, holding both hands over his head like a prize fighter.
Shay sighed. Even a half hour of this was going to be too much. It was going to be a long night if he had to hang around more than a few minutes.
A CROWDED BAR, that was what she liked to see, Mallory thought as she poured drinks, her hands an efficient blur of motion. Above her, Kayla swung her long blond hair and danced with redheaded Belinda, while Liane and Michelle worked next to her to pass drinks to patrons.
The buzz of the register was its own seductive music, especially after the lean weeks just past. If she could keep the bar full like this on a regular basis, her financial concerns would be only a memory.
“I’m going to take a quick walk around,” she said to Michelle and ducked under the walkthrough. Part of running her own place meant being responsible for every aspect of it, knowing what was happening outside as well as in. A good manager knew what was going on in her establishment.
She threaded through the crowd around the bar. A glance outside told her the admission line had doubled from when she’d seen it earlier in the night. “How’s the traffic look, Benny?” she asked her doorman in an undertone.
“We’re still at about three-quarters capacity,” he answered.
She could let them all in, but a line created buzz. Mallory checked her watch. “Keep the line at about six people until eleven, then let everybody in up to capacity.”
Benny grinned. “Whatever you say, chief.”
EVEN AS ONE OF THE DANCERS stepped down to go back to tending bar, another jumped up to take her place. Bored, Shay stepped away from the crowd at the bar and began to look around. The space was bigger than it looked on first impression. It stretched back beyond the bar area and widened out into a section filled with a couple of scaled down pool tables and some tables and chairs in an area that could double as a bar or a dance floor. Currently it was only lightly populated; everybody wanted to be by the bar, where the action was.
He grabbed a stool by the wall and sat down to watch the chaos. The servers behind the bar were feverishly pouring drinks. Definitely designed to appeal to the frat boy crowd, he decided, surveying the clientele. It made an impact all right, but for how long? This kind of novelty had to wear off sooner or later. And if it didn’t, what kind of a clientele was it likely to draw into the area once word spread?
The song changed and the blond bartender leaped back onto the bar. Shay scanned the crowd and shook his head. Dev, old buddy, you’ve gotten yourself into a king-size mess. Then his gaze fastened on a woman by the door and he froze.
She was, quite simply, stunning. Beautiful in the larger-than-life way of models and movie stars, in a way that seemed to suck in all available light. She wore a snug leather miniskirt and a short, white tank top that clung to her and exposed a tanned midriff where a gold navel ring glinted. A river of thick, dark hair tumbled down her back. Amid all the noise, it was as though for a moment he was in a cone of silence.
And all thoughts of Dev flew out of his head.
2
MALLORY STOOD BY THE DOOR, scanning the crowd for trouble out of habit. Some nights, the torqued up, liquored up patrons could turn on one another like snapping dogs—a possibility that justified having a second bouncer—but tonight they were content to be entranced by the dancer/bartenders, enticed enough to buy them drinks, tantalized enough to make passes that never succeeded. The girls knew the drill: flirt but don’t fall. Every guy who walked through the door, of course, assumed that he’d be the exception, and so they were happy to stand in line to get in, just for the chance of seeing and talking to the dancers. It was the source of Bad Reputation’s recent success.
Mallory took another glance
