Closing time came and Flora collapsed at a table and began counting her tips. Joey looked up from the cash register.
”Mr. Pete, will you look at this,” he said in his mournful voice. “Look at these receipts. You’d think it was a Friday, not a Wednesday. You did yourself a real favor when you hired that little French songbird.”
Antoinette sat down by Flora. “How did you do, Flora?”
”Lordy, sugar, at this rate, I’ll be rich, and dead of exhaustion! Here,” she pushed part of the money towards Antoinette. “This is part yours.”
”Ah, non!” she exclaimed as she pulled her hands back. “You did all the work!”
”You worked, too,” Flora said.
”Non. Singing, it is not work, it is fun. You were the one running from table to table all the night. But, thank you.” She touched the back of Flora’s wrist.
Joey came over. “How’d you do, Flora?”
”Two hundred fifty-three dollars and forty-seven cents.”
”Yeah. You should see the till. Looks like a Friday.”
”Here he comes,” Flora said. “Whatever he’s paying you, sugar, make him double it.”
”All right, you two,” said Mr. Pete. “Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can go home. Antoinette, may I speak to you for a moment?”
”Oui, m’sieur.” She followed him back to his office.
”You did a very good job tonight.” He handed her five twenties. “I’d like you to stay on a while longer. I’ll pay you more.”
She smiled. “That is not necessary, m’sieur. I will stay for a few more days, but when I decide to leave, I will go, and you will not try to keep me?”
”Okay. Hundred and fifty a night, plus food and a room. One set an hour, starting at six P.M. Sound good?” She nodded. “Good. You can sleep here, on the sofa.”
She looked around. “This will be fine, m’sieur. Thank you. May I trade in my tips for bills?”
”Sure.”
At the bar, she counted out her tips. He gave her a ten and four twenties.
She walked over to Flora, who was wiping tables and chairs. “Where is there another towel, Flora? I will help.”
”That’s not part of your job, sugar,” Flora said.
Antoinette shrugged. “I want to help. You are tired.”
Flora hesitated a moment. “I’d love it. Here, take this rag and I’ll get another.”
At three A.M., the others left. Antoinette went back to the office, stripped and curled up on the couch, the Texas air warm against her bare skin, helping her fall asleep.
The next evening was another success. The room began to fill. Antoinette sang and flirted with the customers, fending off the more persistent with practiced ease. Mr. Pete brought folding chairs from a storage room and set them up near the stage. A few hurried phone calls brought a part-time waitress to help Flora.
About eight-thirty, a man walked in, creating a stir of excited admiration. He wore well-tailored street clothes but topped it off with a broad Sam Browne style belt displaying a control panel on the buckle. A holstered laser pistol hung from his waist, while the badge of a FORCE Deputy lay pinned over his heart. His carriage simply oozed confidence. Buying a drink from the bar, he walked over to an empty chair near the stage and sat down.
Antoinette smiled, kicking out one bare foot and wriggling her toes at him while she sang.
When she finished the set, she put her guitar on the floor by the stool and stretched. Someone whistled and she laughed, then slipped off the stage and walked gracefully towards the bar. The deputy rose and intercepted her.
”Hello, beautiful. May I have the pleasure of buying you a drink?” the deputy asked.
She looked up at him with a playful smile. “Oui, m’sieur. I would like a glass of the red wine, s’il vous plait.”
”Two glasses of red wine, please.” He dropped a bill on the bar. “Keep the change.” He handed one of the glasses to her. “How about a short walk?”
”Okay, but I must be back for my next set in fifteen minutes.”
”I’ll have you back by then.” He offered his arm, holding his wineglass in the other hand.
They ambled along the sidewalk. “I’m Carl Royden,” he started, introducing himself. “What’s your name?”
”My name is Antoinette, Carl.”
”I never expected to find anyone as breathtakingly beautiful as you in this little town. You’re French, aren’t you?”
”Oui, Carl. I am just passing through.”
”I’m glad our paths crossed.”
She smiled back. “Bon. And now, I must go back.”
As she sang during the rest of the evening, she kept glancing over at him, flirting with him to the envy of other customers. Between sets, they sat on the edge of the stage and talked, him telling her about his life and asking about hers; always lavish in his praise of her skill and beauty. She greatly enjoyed his attentions.
After her ten-o’clock set, Carl approached her. “Care to go out with me and get a bite to eat after your last set?”
”I would like that, but I am sleeping in the tavern and, once I leave and lock the door, I cannot get back in again.”
He thought a moment. “Antoinette, your beauty and your personality stir me like no woman has done for a long time. Dine out with me tonight, and if you don’t like what I’m offering, I’ll rent a room for you in the motel where I’m staying. No strings attached.”
She looked up at him, head tilted and lips parted for a long moment. I have heard that one, or ones like it, many times from many men, she thought. I do not know him, but I like what I have seen so far. And, well, he is a FORCE officer. A familiar glow was spreading through her body. It has been long since I have been with a man like him, so strong and confident. I wonder what he is like? He is obviously interested in me, perhaps I will join him. “Let me think about it, Carl. The tavern closes at two in the morning. I will tell you before then, okay?”
”Okay. In the meantime, I’ll sit and watch you, listen to your lovely voice, and hope.” He smiled at her.
