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“What is it?”
“Are you able to help with the wedding?”
I open my mouth in shock. “Me? Help? I’m not sure there’s anything I could help with.”
“I promise it’s not going to be anything too hard. I’ve had half the wait staff call in sick with a stomach bug that’s going around. It’ll just be helping clear plates, run things for the bar, things like that.”
“The…bar?” I swallow the words, frantically looking at where trays of glasses are being stacked behind the bar. Mitch still hasn’t come back, but I know it’s only a matter of time.
“Please? I know this is a huge ask. I’ll pay you, of course. We have just enough staff to rearrange and make it work in the kitchen, and with the food, it’s just for the small tasks. Please?” She laces her fingers and holds them under her chin as she pleads.
This isn’t how I pictured spending my Saturday night. I was ready to curl up with a book in front of my fireplace as soon as I left here, hiding away with the broody-yet-loveable fireman in my current novel, but my friend needs me more. Releasing my tense shoulders, I nod. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaims, pulling me into a hug.
“Do I, uh, need to get changed?” I look down at my black slacks and white shirt, which is currently hidden under a deep blue sweater.
“Nope, you’re perfect. For the safety of your sweater, you might want to take that off. I can’t guarantee you won’t have any food or drink on it by the end of the night, but other than that, you’re good!” She takes a step closer to me and lowers her voice. “Plus, it’ll be a good way to get to know Mitch. He’s working the bar tonight.”
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Of course he is.”
“Why? What happened?”
I tell her what happened in the parking lot, which gives her a fit of giggles.
“It’s not that funny,” I huff.
“You’re right, it’s not.” She schools her face, looking more serious, but the bite of her lip tells me she’s not done with her fit of laughter. “It’s not that bad. It sounds like he was flirting, that’s all.”
“Flirting…guys don’t flirt with me, Skylar. They order flowers for their wives and girlfriends. They say excuse me at the grocery store. They. Do. Not. Flirt.”
“Yeah, okay,” she says as she rolls her eyes. “Whenever you’re ready to start, I would love it if you could help place the centrepieces you just brought on each table and three on the head table, please.” She walks away, but I hear her muttering about flirting under her breath as she walks away.
I go out to put my sweater in my van and lock it, wondering what the hell I just got myself into.
5
MITCH
Tonight is going to be a long fucking night.
The wedding reception is in full swing, and even though we are working with significantly less staff than normal, it’s been a good night. Brad, our newest bartender, has jumped in to help when needed, but it’s a certain blonde that keeps me distracted.
Skyler told me Rachel would stay to help, and I didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes when she told me. My heart nearly stopped when she walked back into the room after dropping off the flowers, her sweater gone, leaving her in a tight white button-up shirt. It was just see-through enough to see a hint of her bra while remaining professional.
All the men had stopped what they were doing to watch as she reached her arms up, putting her long hair in some sort of updo. The bottom of her shirt rose just enough for us to get a glimpse of her toned skin underneath as her shirt rose ever so slightly.
I had no right to bark at them to get back to work. She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have any sort of claim on her.
But damn, I want to.
The dance portion of the night is in full swing, and the bar line is picking up. I wave Rachel over as she’s carrying empty water jugs past the bar. I do genuinely need help since I can’t leave, but I also want to use it as an excuse to spend time with her.
I haven’t been able to talk with her since our moment at her van. She looked so cute with her eyes closed, face tilted up toward me as if she was waiting for a kiss.
I wanted to kiss her. Heaven help me, I wanted to, but she’s not ready. When I do kiss her, it’s not going to be in the brewery parking lot with caterers rushing around.
“Hey, I need your help here,” I say as she rounds the bar.
