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“You okay?”
“Yeah, just came for some clean rags.” She waved them in her hand.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her back to the bar, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he went to fulfill more drink orders.
Charli did a sweep of the room. The waitress Sandy was busy delivering a tray of drinks to a large table. A small group had gathered around the bar. That was where she was needed. She’d been working here since she was twenty-one and was fast and efficient after all these years. She and Finn had been in sync, even managing to learn a few party tricks with slinging bottles. But Finn had forgotten all of that. He was still a newbie at making drinks, which meant he was slower. Charli started on one end. She’d work her way down the line.
“What can I get ya?” she asked a man with a plaid shirt.
“Two Coors Light.”
She winced. Might as well have ordered water. She grabbed the bottles from the fridge and took his payment before moving on.
A few customers later, Finn’s angry voice rose above the music. “That is a manhattan. If I make it again, it’s gonna taste the same! Don’t like it, order something different.”
Charli handed a woman her cosmo and turned to figure out what was going on.
A big guy towered over the woman by his side, arms crossed as he leaned in towards Finn, pointing at the drink in question on the timber counter. “This tastes like shit.”
Finn stepped forward. She placed a hand on his arm. His muscles tensed, but he turned towards her.
“What’s the problem here?” she asked Finn.
“This guy ordered a manhattan and says it doesn’t taste right.” Finn crossed his arms, mirroring the big man in front of him.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do.” She took the drink off the counter and dumped it down the sink. She grabbed Finn’s arm and led him a little farther away, grabbing a mixing glass. “Make another.”
“It’s gonna taste the fucking same,” he argued.
“Humor me? It’s bad for business if you argue with the customers without at least trying to appease them once.”
He grumbled and shook his head, picking up the bottle of vermouth.
Charli pressed her hand to the top of the glass. Speaking loud enough for only him to hear, she said, “Okay, that’s your first mistake. You have to add three or four drops of the bitters first.”
He took one slow, deep breath and nodded.
She handed him the small glass bottle of dark liquid. “That’s bound to happen when you’re learning. If you ever feel unsure, just ask. I’m here to help and happy to do so.”
After dripping the bitters in, he measured out one ounce of rouge vermouth and dumped it into the mixing glass. Next, he picked up a bottle of whiskey.
“This is the one you used before?”
“Yeah.” He held out the bottle to her.
“It’s the wrong one. For manhattans we use rye whiskey.” She grabbed the Wild Turkey 101 Rye and handed it to him.
“Oh.” He took it and measured out two ounces before adding it to the mixture. He grabbed a spoon and then topped it off with ice. Stirring it, he flicked a glance to her. “I’m sorry.”
A loud burst of laughter rang out, and Finn’s body jolted. His eyes scanned the room as his shoulders bunched to his ears.
She placed her hand on his lower back, leaning in. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You got this. It’s a lot of different recipes to memorize. You’ll get there.” She offered him a smile.
He nodded and grabbed a stemmed glass.
She picked up the handle of the spoon and continued to stir. “Because the cocktail doesn’t usually come with ice, we stir it until we get the dilution we want. You’ll learn to feel it out, but to start, I’d stir about thirty to forty seconds.” She passed him the glass after adding a strainer. “All set to taste.”
He grabbed a straw, dipped it into the drink, and pressed his thumb to the top to lock some liquid in before bringing it to his mouth. He nodded. “Tastes almost the same to me.”
