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“I’ll be back.”
At quarter after one, only staff worked the ballroom while the band finished breaking down. She helped catering secure the alcohol, started to tie up her last bag of empties.
“Catering will haul that out to the bin,” Miles told her, and glanced around. “You’re clear.”
“It’s my first event at the resort, but I can say you guys know how to run one.”
“We’ve got another one in here tomorrow, so we’ll undress the tables and chairs, but leave some.”
“With Loren out, do you need coverage?”
“No. Smaller, less elaborate, second-time-around event. You’re clear,” he said again, then took her arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Actually, I’m going to just swing by Après first.”
“It’s closed.”
“I know that, and Nick’s great. He’s thorough and he’s responsible, but he’s also not used to closing, especially on a weekend night. Après is my responsibility, so I’m just going to check.”
With a shrug, he led her through the hallways, around to the lobby, and the archway. When he flicked on the lights, she scanned the room.
Tables, booths, chairs looked clean. Housekeeping hit the floors every morning, the windows every week.
“Satisfied?”
Ignoring him, she walked in, circled the bar.
Clean, backbar tidy, tubs and trays clean and draining, sinks wiped down.
“Why don’t you look tired?” he wondered as she did her check.
“I’m a creature of the night,” she said absently.
“Owl or vampire?”
“Depends on the night, and despite the event, it looks like Après had a good night.”
“I can see the stock.”
He came around the bar himself, got a bottle of Cabernet off the rack. “I’m having a drink.” He glanced at her while he drew the cork. “Are you having a drink? You’re off duty.”
“I… Sure.” She set two red wineglasses on the bar, then fixed a wine keeper on the bottle after he’d poured.
“Booth.” He gestured, walked over, and sat.
When she went over to join him, sat, she let out a sigh. “I do remember how to sit. It’s been awhile.”
“You’re entitled to breaks during an event.”
“Yeah, Tricia and I worked them out.” But it felt damn good tojust sit. She sipped the wine, sighed again. “Do you do this a lot? Sit in an empty bar?”
“No. You?”
“Actually, yeah. Not drinking Cab, especially this label, but an empty bar has its own personality. This one’s quiet comfort with a touch of subtle elegance. It’s nice.”
He shouldn’t ask; he didn’t like small talk. But he asked anyway because he wanted to know.
“Why bartending?”
