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He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on his knuckles, slightly leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “So, when can you start?”
My eyes went so wide that I could feel the air conditioning rushing in. I had to blink my eyes three times before I could respond. “Today.” I joked.
He smiled. “Well, my trainer bartender is off tonight but he works tomorrow morning. How about that?”
“That’s—that’s perfect.” My smile was making my cheeks ache at this point. “What time?”
“Let’s say 9:30. We’ll have to get some paperwork done and get you all set up. Bartenders usually come in at 10am to get the bar set up. Tomorrow, it’ll just be you and running the dining room too until three, when our night shift comes in. It’s a slower day so you should be fine.” He looked down at my resume, finally skimming through it. “Yeah, you’ll be more than fine.” He holds up my resume. “I honestly don’t need these to ever know if someone is right for the job or not, but it does help to see that this isn’t your first rodeo.”
“Well, I really appreciate you taking a chance on me.”
“A chance? We’re born from the same cloth. You’d have to be really good at faking it and lying to deceive me. Someone else running away from the backwoods south? There’s always a connection.”
“I’m with you on that one. It’s hard enough just wanting to be independent but being different than the others? That’s just too much of a sin.”
Anthony chuckled like he knew all too well what I was referring to. “Yeah. And I was one of their biggest sinners in my town.”
I let out a laugh. “How did you manage that?”
He raised his eyebrows and did that slow nod, like he was thinking back to how rough it was. “I’m gay.”
This time, I let out a roar of laughter. I clamped my mouth shut to try to stifle it. “I’m so sorry. I’m not laughing at you.” I held my hand out. “I’m bi.”
“You need say no more.” Anthony stood from the barstool, so I followed suit. “Like I said, from the same cloth.”
I expected Anthony to hold out his hand for a shake but instead, he opened his arms and stepped forward. “Can I give you a hug? I feel like we’re already past handshakes. Plus, handshakes are antiquated and used to express dominance.”
“Of course.” I leaned into his hug and felt the warmth you get from a best friend.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Della.”
“You too.” I smiled and made my way out of the pub. “Holy shit.” I let out as soon as I heard the door close behind me. “I just got a job.” I squealed and ran to my car.
As soon as I had my seat belt buckled and had the car on, I pulled out my phone and opened my messages. I scrolled through until I found the person I wanted to tell more than anything. My thumb hovered over her name, and I had to fight it. Lyla wasn’t mine anymore. I didn’t get to share my life with her anymore.
I tossed my phone to the passenger seat and dropped my head back to the head rest. “Fuck.”
After a few minutes, I pulled myself together and made my way out of the parking lot, heading straight for the bakery. Earlier, I was trying to fill a void with those cupcakes. Now, I wanted one to celebrate.
TWO
I hadn’t brought anything more than what I could fit into my sedan but thankfully, I thought to bring my black slacks and a trusty black button-down shirt. My slacks were nothing special, but this shirt got me through a lot of rough nights. It had more beer spilled on it than anything else. It was perfectly worn in too. Any others I got over the years were too stiff, too tight, too short, too broad, too downright ugly.
This one had softened and was permanently morphed into the perfect shape. And in this business, that kind of shirt was crucial. The buttons were placed expertly to where I could show off some cleavage without too much. Standing straight, I was concealed enough to serve a birthday party for six-year-olds. Slightly leaning over a bar top or leaning to get ice from the well gave me just the advantage I needed to pair with my fake flirting to get the bigger tips.
Sure, maybe I was gaming the system, but I had to. I wasn’t some stick thin girl that looked good in any shirt. No, I had to be strategic about how my pants fit and making sure they didn’t get too tight or too baggy. This shirt helped distract from those bad pant days. My boobs were my key asset against the countless blonde twigs I’d worked with over the years. And in a new town, I wasn’t about to forfeit it.
So, I smoothed out the front one last time, adjusted my boobs to make sure they weren’t pulling the whole “slipping under my bra just enough to look like they were sagging” bullshit, and double checked the buttons then made my way to the front door. I took a deep breath and tried to open the door, but it was still locked.
“Shit.” I forgot to ask Anthony about who would be here and if I needed to call someone first.
I’d just turned and started biting my thumbnail when I heard the door open.
“Della!” Anthony’s familiar voice broke out and my anxiety melted away.
“Anthony!”
He ushered me in and gave me a quick tour before grabbing the necessary paperwork. I sat in the back corner to fill it out, double checking everything.
