Free Pokergeist by Michael Phillip Cash

creeps.”
    “You don’t mean that, Chrissy. Jack’s sweet, like Telly. Besides, I love Telly and…and…” She paused as if she had something to share and then shook her head. “Anyway, tomorrow he’s going to George and taking the cab driver job.”
    Chrissy pulled her lips downward in a grimace, then shook her head. She glanced around the room, her eyes falling on the boss. “You don’t have to put up with cab driver’s pay, anyway. Rob can’t keep his eyes off you.”
    Telly observed Gretchen looking at the manager. He was sitting at a table in the rear, his laser eyes watching her intently. He raised a glass slowly, nodding for her to come closer. “Ugh, I have to ask for more hours, and I hate when he does this,” Gretchen complained.
    “He wants to take you out, and he won’t stop until you give him what he wants.”
    “There are laws that say he can’t do that!” Gretchen hissed.
    Telly smiled as he watched. “Good girl, Gretch.”
    Chrissy laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure, honey. I got a good bridge to sell you too. That’s why we women outnumber them two to one in management,” she finished sarcastically. “Look, either Telly has to make enough to get you out of this shitbox, or you better get ready to make that bonehead happy. I read the book, and it don’t look like a happy ending for you.”
    “Gretchen!” Rob jiggled his glass at her. “Get me a shot.”
    Telly saw Gretchen sigh, take a deep breath, and walk over with a bottle of tequila. She reached over to take the glass from his hands, but he caught her fingers, turning her hand palm up. Rob walked his fingers over her sensitive skin, and Gretchen impatiently made to grab for his glass. He held it out of her way, his face inches from her breast.
    “I got customers waiting; do you want a refill or not?”
    Rob handed her the glass, a smirk on his face. A faint shadow of dark hair outlined a horseshoe shape on his head. Telly saw Gretchen observing Rob’s wide forehead, wondering if she realized that if he let it grow in, he’d be bald. He smiled when he saw her smirk at her boss’s bald head.
    “What’s so funny?” Rob demanded.
    “I’m tired, Rob. It’s been a long night. Is it possible for me to get extra hours next week?”
    “I’d like an extra night.” Rob smiled wolfishly. “How about Tuesday?”
    Gretchen shook her head. “No, that would cut into Sylvie’s hours. Besides, everybody’s consumed with the Series. Tips will be slow.”
    “I’m not talking about here, Gretchen. I’m having a party.”
    “Oh. I don’t usually do the private stuff. Aren’t you having Chrissy and her girlfriend work that?”
    “I wasn’t talking about you working for me there. I figured you could come as my guest.”
    Telly watched Rob’s eyes strip her as he downed the shot, slamming the glass on the table.
    “Telly—”
    “I didn’t invite Telly,” he told her, reaching out to lay his hand on her hip.
    Gretchen sidestepped away, shaking her head.
    “You refusing work?” Rob said with a menacing growl.
    “You said it wasn’t work.”
    “Did I say that? I don’t recall. I said I’m having a party, and I asked you to come,” he said with a wide smile that bordered on unfriendly.
    Telly turned to Clutch. “I’ve seen enough; you don’t have to leave this on. Gretchen would never cheat.” The screen went dark.
     
    ***
    Gretchen grabbed a wet rag and wiped the stained surface of the bar, angry at Rob and the position he was putting her in. There were no jobs around town. She was on the northern side of thirty, competing with twentysomethings who could juggle bottles like a circus act. Those were the ones who got hired. Gretchen couldn’t sing, barely danced, and just yesterday she’d spied a gray hair at her temple. Thank goodness she was blond at least. At this point, she couldn’t even afford to go to a beauty parlor to hide it with color. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry, and remembered her new