Chapter Sixteen

I hanged my coat in the back room and relieved Jeanie of her shift. She waved goodbye with a thankful expression, and I knew instantly that Old Jack was in the bar.

Old Jack, or Jack Brice, is one of the loveliest old men I’ve ever met. When he’s sober. When he’s had a few ales, he turns into a humorous old lad with a roving eye over all the bar girls.

This happened on a regular basis, given that my boss was a bit of a pig who insisted on only having young people behind his bar. Young girls bring in the guys and young guys bring in the girls.

Tonight, Jeanie had brought in Old Jack and kindly left him for me. And judging by the grin on his face, he’s not totally hammered. Yet.

“Brenda,” he crooned my name like he’s a ‘country singer. I’ve heard on radio.

“Jack.” I looked at him my best smile. “How are you this evening?”

“Better for seeing you, darlin’.