Chapter One

Sayerville, New Jersey, 1988


Kimberleigh Cartwright was what they called a 'flair bartender', long before Tom Cruise made them famous in the movie Cocktail. Her dad had taught her how to throw a bottle of 'Jack' behind her back and over her shoulder before she was six years old. She'd been the top attraction and the best bartender at Gino's Bar for 8 months, since she turned 21. Gino was tickled to death to have her; she could really pack them in on a Saturday night. Gino liked the fact that no matter what band was playing on the stage Kimber never got distracted, but the patrons usually paid more attention to her than they did the bands. Gino told her all the time that she was good enough for one of the big bars in New York City, but he was tickled that she had walked into his joint.

On any given Saturday night, the regulars at Gino's knew they'd find Kimber in skin tight jeans, and a t-shirt with some smart ass slogan on the front, with her long chocolate brown hair streaming wildly down her back, her strange green eyes with a yellow starburst in the center flashing with every smile she bestowed on some lucky guy, and she'd be barefoot. She owned the behind the bar area when she was there. She'd never dropped a glass or a bottle so the barefoot thing was never an issue with her. The other bartenders were always careful when they worked with her because they knew the lack of shoes was a necessity. The specially made mat on the floor behind the bar was just as important. They didn't serve food at Gino's so the Health Department hadn't been too picky about it, especially knowing the circumstances. The inspector understood the reasons for her going without shoes and looked the other way.

Behind the bar, Kimber had a commanding presence, and you couldn't help but notice her, even if she was only 5' 5". However, if she wasn't behind the bar, she was quiet and shy. This particular Saturday night she was in rare form. The smart ass slogan on the front of her black t-shirt said 'It's not my job to say I'm cute...It's yours". The shirt itself was tucked into skin tight black jeans that hugged her tiny waist and cupped her firm ass lovingly.

She'd noticed the two long haired men sitting at the other end of the bar the moment they'd walked into the place. Something about them tugged at her memory, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where she knew them from. Tommy, the other bartender, was working that end of the bar and seemed awful familiar with them, so he must know them. One was tall, at least 6 foot, with long dark hair and warm chocolate eyes. The other was a bit shorter, perhaps 5' 10" or so, with long light brown hair, sparkling baby blue eyes, and a disarming smile. Even as she made an Alabama slammer for a guy in a tight black t-shirt and a blue bandana, her eyes kept straying to the two men at the end of the bar. Maybe it was because she knew they were talking about her, and maybe it was just because they were the best looking men in the place.

At the other end of the bar, Richie shoved Jon's shoulder. "Why don't you ask her out, Kidd?"

"I just might before the night's over," Jon answered. "Have you noticed that she's barefoot?"

"Yeah," Richie nodded, "quite sometime ago."

"I think that's hot," Jon said, smiling.

"Somehow, I knew you would," Richie commented. "That's kinda scary actually."

"What? That I think it's hot, or that you knew I would?"

"Both," Richie laughed.

Smiling warmly, Tommy walked up to them. "You two doing okay? Ya need anything?"

"Information," Jon answered.

"What kind of information?" Tommy asked warily.

"I noticed a sign at the other end of the bar when we came in," Jon told him, "the one that says 'If Kimber's behind the bar alone, push the red button for service'. Is she Kimber?" he asked nodding toward the woman in question.

"Yep," Tommy nodded, "that's the famous Kimberleigh Cartwright. Just wait 'til she gets up on the bar in about an hour. She'll blow you guys away."

"She's already blown my friend here away," Richie told him. "Is she single?"

"Yeah," Tommy answered, "but she's real particular. Can't say as I've ever seen her with a guy. Turned me down flat right after I went to work here."

"Do ya think we could get an introduction?" Jon asked softly.

Tommy answered quickly, "Sure." But, he didn't move to get the woman. Tommy took a drink order from a woman who walked up and was quickly making her drink.

When Tommy was finished with the customer, Jon asked, "About that introduction?"

Tommy laughed. "I don't have to go get her. She reads lips. If she wants to meet you guys, she'll be over here in a second."

"She reads lips?" Richie asked in astonishment, as Jon groaned in embarrassment.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "so if she was interested enough in meeting the two of you, she was watching and knows you want an introduction. If she isn't interested and wasn't watching, you two are just shit outta luck." Tommy turned and walked a few feet down the bar to take a drink order from another patron.

Jon and Richie watched the woman as she made a drink for a muscle bound man in a red tank top. Gracefully, with her left hand down by her waist, she threw the bottle of liquor behind her back and over her right shoulder, catching it quickly with her left hand, before turning it upside down to pour the dark liquid in the shot glass in front of her, then slid it forward towards the man. She sat the bottle down on the counter behind the bar and quickly made her way over to them.

Sticking out one hand to Jon, she said with a strange accent, "I'm Kimber, and you are?"

Jon shook her hand. "I'm Jon, and this is my friend, Richie."

Richie reached out to take the small hand that he was offered and pumped it once. "Nice to meet you," he told her, smiling.

"Nice to meet you two as well," she answered. "You guys from here?"

"Yeah," Jon replied. He was wondering about her accent; he couldn't quite figure out what kind of accent it was. and it bothered him. "You?"

"Actually, I'm from Perth Amboy, but I moved here a few months ago," she answered.

"That doesn't exactly sound like a Jersey accent," Jon pointed out.

Used to that kind of comment, she said patiently, "Jon, this isn't an accent," she paused for effect, "I'm deaf."