Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,1
to since it was my job.
“Is George here?” I asked, because I barely saw the elusive bar owner.
He was the one to interview me. After giving me a thorough onceover and looking at me with a shrewdness in his eyes that made me squirm, he’d shocked me by deciding to take a chance on me, despite my lack of skill.
“I like you. You don’t know shit about bartending, but something tells me you can learn. Can you start tomorrow night?” he asked after I was positive I’d bombed the interview.
I was grateful because I needed a job after a messy split from an ex-fiancée and a move back home to lick my wounds. It was only supposed to be temporary, until I found a more stable nine-to-five job with benefits and a retirement plan. Or at least so I could move out of my crummy apartment and into something that was bigger than a shoebox. But canceling a wedding and moving from one state to another wasn’t cheap, and since everything was in my ex’s name since we’d moved for her job, my bank account was empty and I was desperate for any type of work to feed it and myself. Thankfully, George saw something in me; otherwise, I’d still be combing the want-ads and filling out applications.
“I think that’s everything,” Mina said once she gave the room a critical eye.
I could see why George hired her as his assistant manager. She was efficient and thorough and had the patience of a saint. He was lucky to have her, and I hoped he realized that. Then she glanced at her watch. “We still have a while before we’re due to open, and the band should be here any minute to get set up.”
Right on cue, we heard the creak of the back-door opening followed by deep voices getting closer. Mina left me behind the bar to greet the band, and I made sure we had rags to wipe down the counter, triple-checked the glasses and beverages, and did anything else I could find to keep myself busy. She didn’t need my help with the band, and I felt weird just standing there doing nothing. I wasn’t paid to lean on the counter, even if we weren’t open yet and I could use the time to relax. Besides, relaxing gave me time to think about the disaster that’d become my life, and there was plenty of time to do that when I was home alone.
I’d just given the bar another wipe-down it didn’t need when I heard the cacophony of instruments being tuned and checked. I winced at the sound but tried not to judge. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t their actual set, only a quick sound check before getting started, and if George allowed them to play, they must’ve been good. Besides, how could hitting a few keys or strumming a few strings be enticing to the ear when you weren’t trying to play a melody? And what the hell did I really know about jazz anyway? Not much aside from the bands Clancy’s usually had, and even their sound checks were just them playing a song. Each one was different, and I needed to keep that in mind.
“Foster, I think the counter is as clean as it’s going to get,” Mina said beside me, and I could hear the smirk in her voice before I even looked in her direction.
“Just wanting to make sure everything is ready,” I said before tucking the towel in the waistband of my pants. I had to raise my voice to be heard over the band, but Mina was leaning close enough to hear me just fine.
“It is. I’m going to open.”
The waitresses, dishwasher, and cook were milling in the kitchen, and the bouncer was posted by the door waiting for Mina to open. He could’ve easily done it himself but stood back to let her do it. Which showed me he respected not only her, but her position as assistant manager.
I kept my eyes on Mina as I watched her dim the lights a bit and flip the switch to the neon sign indicating we were open before unlocking the door. Ted, the bouncer, plopped his ass on the stool by the door, which was almost comical since his massive size was intimidating and I wondered how the tiny piece of furniture supported his weight. But it did, and it was an impressive sight to see. And then she made