“Any questions so far?” James asks, and I realize I’vecompletely spaced on whatever he was saying about setting up a tab.
“Um, could you maybe repeat... all of that?”
“Hey, don’t stress.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, just for a second. “First day’s always overwhelming. You’ll get it.”
I nod, determined to prove him right. To prove everyone wrong. I can handle this job. Handle myself.
“Most important rule?” He’s pulling bottles from the shelf now, setting up for a training cocktail. “We’refamilyhere. You need anything, day or night, you come to me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.” That megawatt smile again. “Now, let’s see how fast you can learn our signature Mountain Mule.”
Two hours later, my head is spinning with recipes and regulations, but I’m getting it. James is patient, encouraging, quick to praise when I nail a pour or remember a recipe.
Who knew there were so many types of whiskey? Or that getting the perfect foam on an espresso martini was basically a science experiment? But I’m getting it! And okay, maybe I’m a little too excited every time James says “perfect” or “excellent form,” but whatever. Positive reinforcement works on me, don’t judge.
“You’re a natural,” James says as we prep the fresh fruit for tonight. “Most new hires take days to get the hang of our style. I think this is going to be a fun summer, T.”
I beam, then immediately feel embarrassed for being so pleased.
The back door opens and this goddess-level gorgeousbartender walks in. “Hey, boss,” she calls to James, then gives me the once-over. “New girl?”
“This is Tara,” James says, his hand landing on my lower back as he makes introductions. “She’s going to be great.”
The girl’s face breaks into a gorgeous smile as she holds out her hand. “Becky. Nice to meet you. Thank God you’re joining. We’re starting to get the summer rush and it’s getting pretty crazy around here.”
“It’s great to be here. I’m so excited!” And I actually mean it, not just my usual enthusiasm for literally everything. “It’ll be nice to have something besides studying to focus on.” And by ‘studying’ I mean ‘community service with Alfie Spencer who is definitely not occupying way too much space in my brain right now.’
“I told James I can work basically whenever,” I continue, “Five or six shifts a week would be amazing. Between this and my, uh, volunteer work, I’ll probably be too busy to miss everyone who abandoned me for summer break.”
“Trust me”—Becky laughs—“once summer really hits, you’ll be too exhausted to miss anyone. But the tips are incredible, especially during tourist season. The rich kids trying to impress each other? They’re basically funding my grad school.”
“Are you at UMS?”
“Yeah, bio major, you?”
“Environmental science.”
“Alright! Great gossip session, ladies,” James cuts in, Becky rolls her eyes out of his view. “I need to steal T for some more training. Go check on the supplies, Becks, ‘kay? We should practice some more cocktails before yourfirst real shift. Ready to learn how to make an Old Fashioned?”
“Born ready!” I grin, ignoring any judgement about my attitude. I’m learning how to make fancy drinks in a fancy bar and nobody’s treating me like I need protecting. This summer is going to be amazing.
“That’s a Paloma, right?”the woman asks, pointing to the cocktail in my tray.
I glance down. I know it’s a Paloma. Of course, it’s a Paloma. But still, my brain demands a double-check. I peek at the bartender’s station just to be sure before nodding, all casual confidence.
“Yep! Grapefruit, tequila, and a splash of magic,” I say, flashing my best smile.
She laughs, and I exhale. Good. Handled.
Six hours, three spilled drinks, and approximately ten thousand cocktail recipes later, I’m fumbling with my apartment keys. My feet are killing me. It turns out standing for an entire shift is different from standing around in a lab. Different muscles or something. I’d ask Troy, but then I’d have to admit this job is harder than I made it sound.
I miss Alex. Now it’s just me and my thoughts, which are unfortunately stuck on the fact that I have to be up in, I check my phone and groan, six hours for community service.
Community service with Alfie.
I shouldn’t be nervous about that. It’s just manual labor with a guy I’ve known for almost two years. A guy Imay have kissed. Once. In a hallway. And it might have been the best kiss of my life. And he wants me to forget it and pretend it never happened.
