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She hands me a plastic bag with the treats inside. “Any time. I guess I’ll see you around, Meredith.”
“See you.”
I get my phone out and open Google Maps to navigate to Frosty Crest Haven, where I run into Winnie again, who’s wearing a different outfit than before.
“Winnie? How is this possible? You were just at your store?” I ask, completely bewildered at how she pulled this off.
“I’m not her, but I can see how you’re confused since we’re identical. I’m Wren, Winnie’s sister. There’s three of us actually,” she says.
“Wow, triplets.”
“Yup. Anyway, how can I help you?”
I tell her about my job hunt, but unfortunately, there are no open positions at the lodge either.
“You know what, my cousin Caleb runs Hidden Springs Bar & Grill. He’s always looking for an extra hand. Tell him I sent you,” Wren says. “And good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I head back outside, hoping the saying third time’s a charm will turn out to be true for me. I keep my fingers crossed as I step inside the bar. The place looks great, even though it’s deserted right now. My gaze lands on the bar and on the bartender behind it. He’s restocking bottles of whiskey on the shelf.
“We’re closed,” he calls out, his deep voice reverberating through the empty space.
“Oh, um, you’re Caleb, right? Wren sent me,” I say.
He turns around, and it’s like I’m being punched in the gut, but in the best way possible. Butterflies frantically flap their wings in my belly as Caleb’s bright blue eyes stare straight into my soul.
“She did, did she? Well, in that case, have a seat,” he says, gesturing to one of the barstools.
“I’m here to see if I can work under you. For you. Um. I mean… Do you happen to have a job for me?” I ramble.
He laughs and my stomach flips again. Maybe working here isn’t a good idea, after all. If Caleb would be my boss, how would I ever get anything done?
“What’s your name?” he asks, his eyes still trained on me.
“Lu, um, Meredith,” I stumble. “I’m new in town.”
“Nice to meet you, Lu-Meredith,” he says with a grin. “You’ve come at the right moment because one of my bartenders quit yesterday. Just your luck.”
I can’t help but smile. Just my luck indeed. For once, I deserve something going right for me.
“How handy are you with glasses and bottles? Any hands-on experience?” he asks me.
I bite my lip for a second. I’m used to working with beakers and dangerous liquids. They have some resemblance to cocktail glasses and booze, right?
“I have some experience, yes,” I say, only half lying.
I mean, how hard can it be to pour some drinks?
Caleb clears his throat. “Why don’t you show me what you can do?”
“You want me to make a drink? Right now?”
Shit. I was kind of hoping I’d be able to get some practice at home, with the help of some YouTube videos, plastic cups, and cheap liquor.
“A cocktail, a beer, a club soda… There are a lot of different drink options at the bar, and I need to know if you can make them. Why don’t we start with a Moscow Mule?”
I swallow. “Okay.”
