AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We aren’t at bar capacity tonight, but there’s been a steady stream of customers for the last couple hours. Now that the weeknight happy hour crowd has filtered out, things are slowing down. The lull allows me to get caught up on some behind-the-bar housekeeping. Amanda and I wipe down the counters, bring out the clean glasses from the dishwasher, check on garnishes, and chop up a few more limes.
I’m pulling out a new sleeve of cardboard coasters, busy dreaming about Sugar & Ice, when my thoughts are interrupted by Amanda clearing her throat. She nods to the end of the bar. Sometime in the last thirty seconds, Rhys sat down near a group of older college boys. He fits in with their age group, wonder how old he is, anyway? Can’t be much older than any of them, I’ve probably got at least five years on him.There’s an easy way to find out.
“What can I get for you?”
“Whatever I had last time, thanks.”
I lean over the bar. “Can I see your ID?”
He stalls for a moment.
“You’ve never carded me before.”
“You’ve got an innocent baby face. I have to check.”
He most certainly does not, and his eyes narrow at my remark.
After handing me his license, he looks over at the group of college boys nearby. “She card you?”
All of them shake their heads.
I hand it back. He’s twenty-four, I was close.
After popping the cap, I slide the beer in front of him.
“Interesting that you remembered what drink I ordered last time.”
“Bartender brain.” I tap my temple and grin. That’s not entirely true. He’s ordered something different almost every time, but somehow, I remember them. What a waste of knowledge. I could have filled that space in my brain with something useful. Like the migration pattern of whales. Or the capital of Kentucky.
“Hey, sweetheart, can I get another one?” one of the other guys asks.
“She’s not your sweetheart.” Rhys chuckles, staring straight ahead as he takes a swig of beer.
“Don’t listen to him. I’ll be your sweetheart.” I say pleasantly. “Lemme get you that beer.”
Annoyance radiates off him. I stealthily peek in the mirror behind the bar. His eyes are already on me. His tongue pressed to his cheek, and he shakes his head. Those usually light-hazel eyes seem much darker. I peer back at him while swapping out an empty bottle for a new one.
I chat with the boys; they are all heading into their final semester. We discuss their majors and what they are into. Rhys keeps cutting eyes over to us. Eventually they cash out. They are heading over to Citra Brewing, safe from Rhys’s death glares, and they invite me to check out some live music with them after my shift. I give them a lukewarmmaybeand then we exchange information.
Rhys grumbles something as they sign their receipts, and I try to act hospitable enough to make up for his dickery. He’s intimidating our clientele. After waving goodbye, I turn my focus on him.
Bracing myself with open arms against the bar, I lean in. “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying this delicious beer and the lovely company of my hellcat.”
Myhellcat.
“Don’t you have some skates that need sharpening? Or a stick that needs taping? Perhaps a toaster that needs a bath?”
“Nope, I’m right where I’m meant to be.” His lips turn up in a cocksure smile. He leans back, relaxed, his threaded fingers resting comfortably behind his head. Pleased with himself.
“Didn’t I make myself clear the last time you interfered? If I need your help, I will ask for it. How do you expect me to make any money if you keep scaring off my customers?” I whisper-shout.
“Oh, I could think of a few ways.”That sly smirk.
If he wants to be obscene, I’ll call his bluff.
“I’dloveto hear your ideas.”
