A symphony of mundane saloon sounds provided a constant hum and rhythm in the common room. Clinking glasses, the thrum of shuffled cards, and of course the low rumble of male conversation highlighted by the intermittent soprano voices of the working girls. Dancing in time to this steady beat, a diminutive redhead  (http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/81275968244691737_JbGU1z5d_c.jpg)expertly navigated her way through the crowd with a tray of drinks in hand. Pausing at one of the occupied booths set against the back wall, she flashed a sparkling smile to the three men at the table, “Ok, now who ordered the whiskey?” The table erupted into a short burst of laughter as the smiling girl set a few glasses of rye and beer in front of the men. Taking up the remaining glass of “whiskey” (actually colored sugar water), she knocked back the contents of the glass and screwed up her delicate features as if she had actually forced down the vile whiskey usually served to the men. “Now that I’ve shown you all how its done, you let me know when you’ll be needing a second round.” Grinning, she winked to the table of men and sashayed off to attend to another booth.<br/><br/>As the hours ticked by, the effervescent saloon girl maintained the twinkle in her eye and cheerful smile that had elevated her to one of Lola’s most profitable assets. A year had passed since the innocent wide-eyed widow had wandered in and begged to be one of the saloon’s girls. The first few months were hard, and Lola had almost thrown her out on her ear a handful of times for being clumsy and dropping more drinks than she served. But, her saving grace was her smile and the uncanny ability to make any man feel like the center of her universe whenever she turned those dark blue eyes on him. It also didn’t hurt that the curvy little redhead made it a habit to memorize all she could about Lola’s patrons, making their experience that much more tailored with each visit.<br/><br/>She was sitting at the poker table with a handful of customers when Jackson walked in. Immediately her eyes were on him, watching the tall figure weave his way to the bar and order up…probably a bit of beans and steak, judging by the dust on him. Intending to intercept him, she politely excused herself from the table and started to make her way to the booth he had taken up. Unconsciously, her hands moved to smooth the emerald green taffeta of her dress over her hips and a tuck any stray auburn locks back in place.<br/><br/>Damn it all to hell! Apparently, Layla’s long legs had carried the giant of a woman over to him faster. Her azure gaze narrowed momentarily as she glared at the lovely blonde woman who had taken her place at Jackson’s side. Intent on weaseling her way into that booth anyway, she approached…only to be swept into the arms of a dancing cowboy. “Abby, darlin’ when are you gonna just say Yes?” Momentary surprise was pushed aside as Abigail met that familiar smile of one of her favorite customers. “Joseph, you know I couldn’t deny you a thing! Ask me tomorrow and I’m yours.” Abby’s tinkling laughter mingled with the piano music as Joseph twirled her around the dance floor. It was an exchange they had made countless times, Joseph always asking for her hand in marriage and Abby promising that tomorrow would be the fateful day. A few minutes later, Joseph had a fresh drink in his hand and had paid for yet another “whiskey” for Abby and, of course, the spin on the dance floor. Very little was free at Lola’s, including a dance.<br/><br/>With Joseph deposited at one of the gaming tables in the back, Abby once more set her sights on Jackson. She noticed that the plate of food he customarily ordered after a long trip was not at his table yet. Grinning in self-satisfaction, she approached the bar and smiled ever so sweetly at the barkeep, asking that her know when Jackson’s food was prepared. While she waited at the bar, another familiar figure darkened Lola’s door, Mr. King. The dark man sent a thrill through her, the power and money he had went far in terms of smoothing over some of the less than stellar aspects of his personality. Flashing him a cheery smile, Abby greeted him with a chipper “Evenin’, Mr. King” before taking up the steaming plate of steak and beans which had just been set before her. Excusing herself with a nod, she headed over to Jackson’s booth.<br/><br/>“Good to see you again, Jackson. I thought you might want something warm and fresh to heat you right on up.” The sparkling smile and sweet words did little to cover the intent of those words. And her very pointed effort not to look Layla’s way only served as further indication that Abby wanted Jackson to herself.