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“Careful or your face might freeze that way,” I said cheekily. “At least your bad mood hasn’t affected my tips. Let me know if you need anything.” I turned on my heel and put a little sway in my hips.
“Margarita on the rocks with salt, please,” a college girl ordered.
“Margaritas have a shitload of sugar,” I said. “Unless you’re ready for a wicked hangover, how about a shot of tequila instead?”
The woman smiled. “Done and done. Better make it two shots, then.”
“My gal,” I teased. I poured her two shots, set limes and a saltshaker down in front of her and watched her throw them back.
“Fuck yes,” she said. “That was perfect. Now I have enough courage to ask that hot guy in the corner to play pool.”
I glanced over her shoulder at said guy in question. He was already watching her.
“You’re good as gold,” I assured her. “He’s looking at your ass as we speak.”
“God, I love this place.” She smiled. “You’re awesome.” She strode off with confidence and headed for the guy.
“You’re a natural matchmaker,” Mia said.
“Booze helps people get laid. I’m like the fairy godmother of tequila and hookups.”
“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. Everyone’s happy. The tip jar is full, and I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed bartending so much. Normally I don’t do this. But a few of my bartenders quit a few weeks ago. My best ran off and got married to an oil field worker and moved to Oklahoma, so I’ve had to fill the gaps.”
“Your bad fortune is my good luck.”
The hours flew by. Customers were wonderful and I didn’t have to use the water gun once. Aside from Viper’s brooding silence, I was happy. It felt great to be busy. My days in the clubhouse without work felt so long with nothing to do.
“Do you need me to cover more shifts?” I asked Mia.
She looked at me as she unscrewed a fresh bottle of well tequila. “I’ve got you scheduled for three late nights already.”
“Yeah?” I asked. I wiped up a puddle of beer with a damp bar rag and then chucked it into the bin in the corner.
“How do you feel about that? Do the late nights fuck up your daytime schedule?”
“I’m not really doing much with my days,” I said slowly. I lowered my voice. “Except Viper.”
Mia blinked and then cracked a grin. “And that doesn’t keep you busy?”
“It keeps me plenty busy,” I assured her. “But today he had to run out to do some stuff. Club stuff.”
Mia glanced from me to Viper and then back to me. “I see.”
“If it hadn’t been for you guys stopping by, I would’ve been bored out of my skull.”
“I don’t usually like to schedule my bartenders more than three bar shifts,” she said. “The hours are late and the customers are nonstop…you need that break to recharge.”
Disappointment curled through me. I was going to get stuck during the days hanging out at the clubhouse with nothing to do.
“Do you have any experience with ordering and inventory?” Mia asked.
“Nah. At Spurs I just waited tables, tallied my receipts, turned in the cash and left. Very in and out. Not a lot of responsibility.”
“Would you be interested in learning that kind of thing?” Mia asked. “I’m asking because I’m looking for a new bar manager. Someone to do the schedule and keep up with inventory, and maybe get behind the bar and sling drinks if it gets crazy.”
“That sounds kind of like a permanent position,” I said.
She shrugged. “If you like it, it can be permanent. I’ve had to be at the bar more than I want lately, and I don’t really like the time away from my family to be honest. Colt would be thrilled if I was home more. But he gets that this bar is kind of my baby.”
