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“I was still deep in shit at your age.” There’s a nostalgic tone attached to his words. “Alcohol, mostly. Thea, your specialty fits, but I’m concerned about your experience and the state license.”
My body slumps and my heart slows as I wait for him to tell me more. Maybe he won’t hire me, but he might have suggestions.
“Would you be willing to work as a receptionist while working toward your license?”
Is he serious?
A receptionist.
I’d do that and more.
For the past few years, I’ve taken orders from drunks, cleaned vomit, let men pinch my ass, and more. Why wouldn’t I accept to answer phones and tell people to wait for their turn? His phone buzzes. He checks it and clenches his jaw.
“I have to go.” He rises from his seat. “I hope you’ll consider accepting the position as a receptionist and stay committed to becoming a full-time counselor. We’ll work it out. I’ll supervise you until you have enough hours to apply for your license.”
I want to jump out of my seat, hug the man, and maybe dance around the bar, but I don’t. I stand up and use my calm voice. “Of course, I accept, and I will do my best. You won’t regret it.”
“Perfect. I’ll email you the details and a list of documents I need,” he says, touching his phone’s screen. “Sorry. I really have to leave, but we’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this, I swear,” I repeat, waving as he heads to the back door.
Reed crosses the threshold toward the bar several minutes later and smiles at me as he opens his arms. “You got it. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”
I smile broadly, my heart is lighter, and my shoulders loosen. I propel myself toward Reed and give him a hug. “Thank you, thank you, for vouching for me.” I know this was Matt’s doing, but Reed recommended me for the job too.
“I’m glad it worked out, T. You’re a great bartender, but I’d rather see you soar on something you’re passionate about.”
“I’ll still work for you,” I offer because I don’t want to leave what is familiar. “Even if it’s only during weekends.”
“We’ll see about that, T. For now, let’s take it one day at a time.”
That’s easy. The story of my life for the past five years.
One day at a time.
ChapterThirty-Five
Thea
The bar isat full capacity again. Not normal, even for a Friday night. I’m at my post taking orders, mixing drinks, and keeping an eye on the door. Matt hasn’t arrived yet, and tonight we need him to pacify the crazies.
I fear that hisadoringfans are going to destroy the place.
“Busy night?” A low voice murmurs down my neck, sending a shivering wave that makes my entire body come alive. I spin around and find Tristan only an inch or so away from me, the whiff of his expensive cologne hitting my senses.
“You decided to drink directly from the bottle?”
He kisses my cheek. “Hey, it’s good to see you, but if that’s a poor attempt to joke it’s terrible.”
“Hi, stranger,” I greet him. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“So, I’m here to help on this side of the bar,” he doesn’t address my comment. Usually, he’ll tell me how he could move his plans or… I don’t know why he doesn’t. “What do you want to do? Split the bar, or you take orders and I mix?”
“You know how to mix?” I lean forward and narrow my gaze.
He winks at me.“I do know my way behind the bar. Missed you this week,” he says, and I smile in response.
I missed him too. Last week he was able to be here except for Monday night. However, on Sunday, he left and couldn’t make it back until… well, today.
