Work and Words
1269 Words
LEXIE
The next morning I woke up with a plan. Or at least the start of one. I couldn’t just sit around doing nothing while my money slowly disappeared. I needed to earn something if I was really going to stay here for a while, even if it was temporary.
I took a quick bath, pulled on fresh clothes, and headed downstairs with more energy than I had felt in days. The bar was quiet again, morning light pouring through the windows. Chaos was behind the counter going through some papers, he looked up the moment I appeared, like he always did.
“Morning,” I said, sliding onto a stool. “You got a minute, Mr. President?”
Chaos set the papers down and gave me his full attention, his storm-gray eyes were calm but curious. “What’s on your mind, Sara?”
I rested my elbows on the bar and leaned forward a little. “I’ve decided to stick around for a bit. But I’m not the type to sit on my ass and eat your food for free. Is there any work around here I could do? Something that pays enough to keep me from becoming a professional couch potato?”
Chaos studied me for a long moment. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, making the muscles in his arms flex under his tattoos. “What do you do?”
“I’m a nurse,” I said, lifting my chin. “A pretty good one, actually. I can stitch people up, handle emergencies, and I have the patience of a saint… most of the time.”
A small smirk tugged at his lips. “A nurse, huh? That explains the attitude. You’re used to bossing people around who can’t fight back.”
I laughed. “Hey, I only boss around the ones who deserve it. Usually big stubborn men who think they’re invincible.”
Chaos’s smirk grew. He leaned on the bar, bringing his face a little closer to mine. “Local hospital isn’t hiring right now. They’re short on funds and overstaffed with people who don’t want to work nights.”
“Of course they aren’t,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Because that would be too easy. So what’s my other option? Flipping burgers? Serving coffee to grumpy bikers?”
“There’s a drug store in town,” he said. “Old Mr. Harlan runs it. He’s been complaining about needing help with the counter and stocking shelves. Pays decent for this town. Nothing fancy, but it’s honest work.”
I tapped my fingers on the bar. “Drug store, huh? I went from saving lives to counting pills and telling people not to mix their medications with alcohol. My mother would be so proud.”
Chaos chuckled, a low warm sound that did stupid things to my stomach. “You could always stay here and help Mia with the bar if you want. But I figured you’d rather keep your hands clean.”
“Smart man,” I said, pointing at him. “I’ve seen the kind of messes you guys leave behind. I’d rather organize cough syrup than scrape gum off tables.”
He straightened up, but his eyes stayed on me. “I can take you to the drug store later today if you want. Introduce you to Mr. Harlan.”
I nodded. “That would be good. Thanks.”
We stood there for a moment in comfortable silence. I watched as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his movements slow and sure, there was something strangely attractive about how comfortable he looked in his own skin.
“So,” I said, breaking the quiet, “what does the big bad President do when he’s not rescuing lost girls or running his little empire?”
Chaos raised an eyebrow. “Little empire?”
“You know what I mean,” I teased. “All this leather and bikes and mysterious meetings. It’s very dramatic.”
He took a sip of coffee and set the mug down. “Club business. Making sure everyone stays in line. Sometimes we work on bikes and sometimes we help people in town who need it.”
“Help people?” I asked, genuinely surprised. “Like charity work? Or the ‘pay us protection money or else’ kind of help?”
Chaos’s lips twitched. “A bit of both. But mostly we keep the peace around here and make sure outsiders don’t cause trouble.”
I leaned my chin on my hand. “And here I am, the biggest outsider trouble you’ve had in a while. You must be thrilled.”
“You’re not trouble,” he said quietly. “Not the bad kind.”
The way he said it made heat creep up my neck. I looked away and cleared my throat. “Careful, Chaos. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead he just watched me with those intense gray eyes until I felt my cheeks warm.
I quickly changed the subject. “So, tell me more about this drug store job. Is Mr. Harlan nice? Or is he one of those grumpy old men who yells?”
Chaos smiled, a real one this time. “He’s grumpy, but fair. Been running that store for thirty years. He’ll like you. You’ve got a smart mouth and you don’t back down. He respects that.”
“Good,” I said. “Because if he’s mean, I’ll just charm him with my sparkling personality and excellent bedside manner.”
We talked for a while longer. Chaos told me a few funny stories about people in town and some of the crazy things that happened at the bar. I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks. For a few minutes, I almost forgot why I was really here.
Later that afternoon, Chaos took me to the drug store in his truck. The town was small and quiet, with neat little houses and shops along the main street. Mr. Harlan turned out to be a short, bald man with thick glasses who looked me up and down before asking me three questions about basic first aid.
I answered all of them easily, adding a few witty comments that made him crack a smile. “You start tomorrow morning,” he said gruffly. “Seven sharp. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, giving him a little salute. “I’ll be the most punctual you’ve ever seen.”
On the drive back to the bar, I felt lighter than I had in days. I glanced over at Chaos, who was driving with one hand on the wheel, looking relaxed.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “For helping me find work. You didn’t have to do any of this.”
He shrugged. “You needed it, and I like having you around.”
We pulled up to the bar and sat in the truck for a moment, the silence felt nice and comfortable. “I should go inside,” I said finally.
Chaos nodded. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
I climbed out of the truck and walked toward the bar, feeling his eyes on my back the whole way.
Later that evening, as I sat in my room thinking about everything, I realized something scary. I wasn’t just staying because of the money anymore.
I was staying because a small part of me wanted to, and that was the most dangerous thing of all.
- Writer
