“I’ll be quick,” he said, reaching for his belt.
“Parker.” With a sigh, he refastened the belt. “I’ll be upstairs working all evening. Aubrey’s dad is picking the twins up in a little while for the movie. Are you sure you don’t need me to work for a while?”
“We’re good. School comes first. Besides, it’s Thursday night, nothing too crazy ever happens on a Thursday. Now, get out of here so I can get some work done.” Pulling her to his chest, he squeezed her ass with both hands before spinning her toward the door. “Always trying to distract me so you can get in my pants.”
Astrid laughed and opened the door. She hesitated to look over her shoulder. Parker felt his heart skip a beat when their eyes met. He didn’t understand how it happened, but every time she looked at him, he fell a little more in love.
“Am I going to see you later, Mr. Donnelly?” He felt his dick twitch. It was now imperative he get her out of here if he hoped to open on time. The bar patrons didn’t need to be greeted by a bartender sporting a woody.
“Count on it, Miss Aaronson.” With a smile, Astrid walked out of the office. He heard her greet Andrea on the way up the stairs. Parker slumped back in his office chair. Life was finally looking up.
ChapterSixteen
Parker flippedthe locks on the front door, letting in the handful of old men. They had been coming here since his dad took over from his grandfather. They liked to arrive early enough to secure the stools at the far end of the bar.
He had known the three men since he could remember and they had no problem reminding him of it. They never caused him problems, never drank too much, or harassed the servers. He was often the center of their good-natured ribbing, but he could handle that.
“Hey, boyo. What’s been keeping you up this week? Or should we say whom?” Declan Blake, his father’s best friend since grade school, hollered as Parker held open the door for a few more customers.
Since necessity had forced him to open later than other bars, Parker usually didn’t have to wait for long for customers.
“Not much, Mr. Blake. How have you been holding up?” Parker watched as two groups headed for the booths along the back. “Andrea will be right with you,” he called over before walking back over to the bar. Soon he saw his only server for the night head for the tables.
Grabbing three pint glasses, he filled them from the taps before placing them in front of the three at the bar.
Within a couple of hours, the room had filled up.
Parker was delivering two drafts when he noticed a man sitting down next to the old-timers at the end of the bar. He worked his way back down to the other end.
He fished a couple of menus out from underneath the bar on his way. Though he couldn’t remember ever seeing the man before, he seemed to fit in with the other men perfectly.
“What can I get you?” he asked. “We’ve got a couple of things on tap that seem to be popular if you're interested. Or I can mix you something. An old-fashioned or maybe a Tom Collins?” He laid the menus down in front of his regulars.
“I don’t know why you always insist on looking at the menu, Mr. Anglin. You probably know it better than I do by now. Mr. Creevy, you looking for the special?”
Parker had been feeding Alan Creevy several times a week for years at no charge. He knew he barely made it through the month on his Social Security check.
“What’s the special?” the new man asked.
“Tonight's the pub burger and kettle chips,” Mr. Creevy answered. “Tomorrow is bangers and mash, Saturday is shepherd's pie or cottage pie depending on the price of meat.”
“Always acres of potatoes. Right, Mr. Creevy?” Parker said with a grin.
“That’s what your da always said, young Donnelly,” Jackie Anglin, not wanting to be left out, added. Jackie had immigrated from Ireland when he and Parker’s dad were still in middle school.
“Yes, sir,” Parker agreed. “Have you decided on anything?” he asked the new man. He already knew the other three would all get the special. They always did. “There are other options as well.”
“You can always get what should be called ‘don’t forget, no meat, Parker,’” Declan said with a grin.
“Now, don’t tease Astrid. She’s not here to defend herself and you know she’s allergic to pork,” Parker answered.
“Speaking of Astrid, where is our favorite girl tonight?” Jackie asked, scooting his empty pint glass toward Parker.
He filled the glass before answering. He noticed vaguely that the man at the end had taken an interest in the conversation.
“She’s finishing a paper that has to be turned in tonight.”
“Are you providing too much distraction?” Declan ribbed him good-naturedly.
