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Unwelcomed Visitors

Chapter Four – Unwelcomed Visitors

"You're early," Dante commented as I breezed through the back door.

"Nothing better to do, and Dex likes to make me late," I returned, hanging my leather jacket on one of the many pegs by the door to the cooler.

"Ain't that the damn truth," he grunted as he moved another case of beer.

"Keep being mean and I'll sick him on you," I teased, hopping up onto one of the counters as I threw my hair up into a ponytail.

"That dog loves me, Jules. It won't do much good," he replied, his warm grin lighting up his face.

"Don't remind me," I groaned with a roll of my eyes. Numerous times Dexter had refused to allow me to leave without him. So he had become Tuxedo's personal bodyguard of the backdoor on those nights. Hence why he and Dante seemed to be the best of friends. Sometimes I worried that Dexter liked Dante more than me.

"So," he started, wiping a rag over his sweating forehead. "A little birdy told me you got caught up in some gang shit," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Devyn?" I deadpanned. He nodded. "Damnit, I'm going to kill her."

"Juliette, I've told you before if you stick around I'll drive you home –"

"Save it, Dante," I snapped. "I'm alive. That's all that matters."

"Vincent Monroe is not a guy to mess with, Jules," he warned.

"Obviously," I seethed. "Why does everyone know who this guy is but me?"

Dante grinned at me, his blindingly white teeth setting his dark complexion off perfectly. "Because you choose to be naïve."

"I do not," I denied with a huff, jumping down from the counter. "I just don't care."

"And that's the kind of attitude that could get you killed," he said in such an offhand manner it unnerved me.

"Whatever," I ground out, glancing at the clock. "I'm starting early," I informed him before pushing through the swinging door and out into the bar.

Tuxedo's was more a club than it was a bar, but I loved it all the same. From the flashing neon lights to the cheap alcohol, it was home. We served food earlier in the day, but after ten it was strictly drinks only. Making my way behind the bar, I nudged Anthony with my hip as I passed him. The other bartender on shift cast a playful glance my way as I moved to my side of the u-shaped bar. "You're early, Jules," he called over the din.

"I just love this place so much, I can't stay away," I dramatically replied.

He laughed, rolling his eyes at me before turning back to the crowd of women surrounding him. Anthony was a ladies man, and he made a lot of money because of it. With his dimpled smile and charming personality, I almost hated working with him. Mostly because at the end of the night I felt guilty taking half of the tips when he earned the majority of them.

"Whiskey neat," a loud yell reached me over the roar of the music.

Not even bothering to look up, I poured the drink before sliding it down the bar into the awaiting hand. "Looks like I'm not the only one here early," I observed, trailing after the drink to its owner.

Chris just shrugged before tossing the drink back. "It was a long day," he grumbled, running a hand through his platinum hair.

"Why do you even come in here?" I questioned, gesturing around to the grinding bodies on the dance floor. Chris had been coming into Tuxedo for close to a year now, and he was one of the sweetest guys I had ever met. Just entering his late twenties, he ran a successful business in the heart of the city.