my hair back off my shoulders, feeling a little hotter than I should.
“Too bad. I was looking forward to you telling me some tales.” He looks down the bar and nods to someone he knows. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Umm… something chilled with vodka but tastes fruity.”
“You got it.” With a pat on the bar from him, I smile broadly. That’s one of the reasons I love being here.
He moves down the bar to fulfill my order, and I nearly groan to see him go.
Yeah, it’s safe to say that I’m holding a bit of a torch for him. I know he’s not what I want — he’s hot, but completely allergic to commitment. It’s why I’ve never approached him like that. He knows I’m on the prowl, as he says, for a husband and someone to settle away from the city with. As he’s told me before, he has no intention of settling down. Still, there’s no law against looking, is there?
My chin fits right into place in the palm of my hand and I sigh to myself while I stare after him.
Charlie
Well, my day just got a whole lot better. Grace is one of my regulars, and a favorite customer. It helps that she’s hot as hell. I smirk as I fill the shaker with a shot of vodka and then a bit more and set the bottle back on ice behind the bar. Her smile’s a little weak but a drink or two and her sweet feminine laugh will come out easy enough.
“Charlie,” Mickey calls out to me. He’s another regular and the uncle of one of my employees.
I give him a nod, grabbing a tall glass and throwing the handle for the Guinness back to get Mickey another. He’ll be here all night, staring up at the college games on the televisions above me.
There are plenty of regulars, some of them like family. Grace isn’t like that. I don’t know how to describe her to be honest. I just know I like it when she’s here.
I slide him the beer, scooting it across the bar top. I’m half tempted to ask him where the hell his nephew is since he never showed up for work, but it’s not like he’d know. The bar is just outside the city and located in a small town. Bringing up business to Mickey isn’t going to help any. He’s a retired cop, and his wife passed away from cancer not too long ago. I’m not going to give him a hard time because his nephew doesn’t have a clue what work ethic is.
“Thank you, sir,” Mickey tells me, grabbing his beer. He doesn’t even look away from the game on television. Beer, football, and a crowded place keep him sane and help him deal with it all.
“Charlie!” Maggie calls out from behind me. She swings open the doors to the back and walks through as she throws on her apron. Thank fuck she’s here.
“Is the kitchen all set?” she asks. She puts her arms around her back, as she ties the apron.
“Yeah, it should be ready for you,” I tell her, grabbing the short iced down glass for Grace. I try to fight back my agitation.
James is really looking to be fired. I’ve absolutely had it with him getting drunk after closing and not showing up the next day. He’s young and stupid. I know what that lifestyle is like, since I used to be just like him, but I’m sick and tired of putting up with his shit.
I didn’t hire him so I could do the work of two men when one doesn’t show.
I’m fucking exhausted, and the night’s just getting started. But that’s what this business takes. Hard work and dedication. It’s not what I thought it’d be when I opened a bar at the outskirts of town. I know part of the reason I did it was to get away.
Part of it was to drown out the memory of the past with booze.
That was years ago though when I was dumb and stupid. Somehow I got lucky, and this damn bar is the only good thing I’ve got going for me now. I can’t let a little shithead like James screw things up.
“Thanks for coming in, Mags.”
I turn to look over my shoulder, but Maggie’s already gone. She's a hard ass and doesn’t need to be given praise, but I should give her a raise or a bonus. Good help’s hard to find in a