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“Jordan,” Noah said quietly, as he walked into Slap Shot. The lunch rush was turning into the dinner rush.
“Hey, stranger.” She smiled at him kindly as he moved towards the bar.
“Hi there, boss,” Mo patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry to hear about your dad’s accident. How’s he doing?”
Noah looked around at his work family as warmth filled his chest. This was what he needed, to come home to these welcoming smiles, warm hugs, and concern. “He’s doing well, better than expected, and the doctor thinks he’ll make a good recovery.”
Mo smiled. “That’s very good to hear.”
“Jordan, can I talk to you for a second?” Noah asked.
The buzz of the dining room surrounded him. Slap Shot was a success, and he was thrilled about that. But right now, the last place he wanted to be was in the middle of a busy dining room.
“Sure. Things will probably settle down soon,” Jordan said, as she checked the list at the hostess stand.
Things weren’t going to settle down, and she knew that. Soon the crowd coming in to see him would be lined up at the door, in addition to the normal Saturday night traffic. She was trying to avoid being alone with him.
“Jordan, this can’t wait.” He moved closer to her, causing her to pause what she was doing.
A few patrons in the waiting area gasped when they realized who he was. Usually, he’d stop for selfies and autographs, but right now he only wanted to talk to Jordan.
“Please?”
Jordan turned to him, ready to say something but instead stopped when their eyes met. “Yeah, sure. We can go into the office.”
Once the door was closed, Noah wrapped his arms around Jordan, hugging her tight. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Her rigid demeanor relaxed, and she hugged him back.
“You know we can postpone the guest bartending session tonight. You’ve been through a lot. The fans will understand,” she reassured him.
“No, let’s do it. I’m good.” He nodded. “I need this.”
Jordan eyes him suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yes.” He opened a bottle of water and took a long sip. After the week he’d had, he just needed something to take his mind off everything. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What’s up?”
“I had a lot of time to think while I was away.” He had what he was going to say all planned out in his head, but now standing in front of her, he was drawing a blank. “I really miss you,” was all that came out.
“Noah.” She put her hand up in front of her. “Let me stop you right there. This is not the time to have this discussion.”
“I respectfully disagree,” he said.
“You almost lost your dad, you just came home from a whirlwind visit with your family, and you must be exhausted. And I think you’re too emotional to have this conversation right now.”
“But—” It didn’t matter if they talked about this now or in a week, he would still feel the same. His dad was on the mend, and things were clear in his mind now.
“Can we please just put a pin in this for now? We can revisit later.”
Three hours of guest bartending went by quickly. He felt more alive than he had in a long time, even more than scoring the overtime goal last month. He wiped down the bar and put the dirty glasses in the dish bin. He thought of all the selfies, the autographs, and all the smiles on his fans faces. He’d had this kind of fun before, but for some reason tonight was the best night he’d had in a long time. He felt as though a fog had lifted, and he was seeing things clearly for the first time in years.
Maybe he had missed his calling. But then again, if he was simply a bartender and not a hockey star, there wouldn’t be lines of people out the door waiting to buy a beer from him. He smiled to himself.
Jordan sat down at the empty bar, pulling his thoughts back to the present moment. “You look good behind the bar. If you ever consider a career change—” she teased.
“Funny you should say that,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m good for now. But, yeah, this felt really good. I needed this for sure.”
