Bartender with Benefits

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Bartender with Benefits Page 9

by Mickey Miller


  I can’t totally read the tone of her text message. Does she not think I’m serious about her being a stunner?

  I grip the steering wheel tightly as I head to her house. When I pull up in front of Cole and Clarissa's house, she's waiting out front.

  I turn off the engine and get out of the car to greet her.

  “Hey, baby,” I say as I kiss her.

  When I pull back, she’s smiling. I am too.

  “Hey you,” she smiles up at me.

  “You look gorgeous,” I say as I give her an up-and-down. Her polka dot dress gives off that 1950s vibe. Not everyone can pull this look off, but Clarissa is so damn sexy.

  I open my mouth, but I’m speechless. “I’m excited for tonight,” is all that comes out of my mouth.

  “Me too,” she says. “I’ll be right back. I just need to grab my jacket and my mom.

  As I wait outside the door, I notice Cole approaching the house. He must have pulled up as I was chatting with Clarissa.

  And kissing.

  Uh oh. Did Cole see me kiss her?

  Not that I didn’t get his opinion on everything.

  “Hey, man,” he says as he greets me. “What's the big occasion tonight?”

  In the ebbing sunlight, I can’t tell if Cole’s facial expression is is natural or if there is a hint of anger and frown tugging at his mouth and cheeks.

  “Remember that “thing” I told you about?”

  “About the little arrangement you made. How could I forget?”

  “We have a dinner with Mrs. Crabtree who is the loan officer and we're trying to play cool.”

  He laughs. “Dude, your punking my mom. She's freaking out. She thinks you and Clarissa are really together.”

  “Is she okay with that?”

  He shrugs. “Honestly, she's not too thrilled about it.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Imagine that.”

  “Sorry man,” Cole says. “but hey, it's going to be done pretty soon, right? How long does it take to open up a bar?”

  “I don't know. What does it take? Three or four months. We're going to do this quick.”

  “Huh. And then, what's your plan man? Are you guys gonna like break up? Hmmm, something, fake break up.”

  “Probably. Something like that. Trust me. Just, we'll take this one step at a time man. Once we get this loan, then we'll be able to focus on the next thing, which is the fake break up.”

  Cole throws his head back in laughter. “I mean, Mason, you always were the one to fly by the seat of your pants so I'm not surprised you didn’t plan this one far too ahead.”

  I pop my hands up. “Sometimes, you just gotta strike while the iron is hot. And if they're gonna give me a loan that I could not get anywhere else, you know what? I've gotta do it.”

  “Hey, boys.” Clarissa says as she approaches the car.

  “Hey, Coley,” Mrs. Hanks smiles. “I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight.”

  “Just wanted to stop by and see you, Mom,” Cole says as he gives his Mom a hug. “I didn’t know you were having a dinner tonight.”

  “Yes! Clarissa and Mason are going into the bar business. It’s all so sudden. But I suppose it’s good. Even if Mason does have a bit of a shady...well, we don’t have to get into the past now, do we?”

  “You’re telling me,” Cole says, shooting me a dirty look.

  “Mrs. Hanks, great to see you tonight. You're looking lovely,” I say, giving her a kiss on her cheek as I let her into the front seat of my truck.

  “Oh no. I'll sit in the back,” she says.

  “And on the way, you’re going to have to tell me all about this relationship you two have been hiding. When did you start dating?”

  “Ah.” We look at each other. “Six months,” I say confidently.

  “Six months ago! When you were in Harvard?”

  “Yes, mom. I explained this to you, remember?”

  “Oh, I know. I just want to hear Mason's side of the story.”

  “Have a good night you all.” Cole says as he lets us go into the night, and he stares me down a little bit.

  We pull up in front of my favorite restaurant in town, the Country Pizzeria.

  Inside the double doors, Mrs. Crabtree greets us.

  “Oh, hello darlings,” she says. “I'm so thankful for you doing a business dinner tonight on a Friday. And on such short notice.” I shake her hand.

  “Oh, it's no problem whatsoever,” I say. “Obviously, the loan for the bar is our top priority right now.”

  “Well, oh, hello Jessica,” Mrs. Crabtree says to Mrs. Hanks. “So funny all of this is happening.”

  So, Mrs. Crabtree and Mrs. Hanks are on a first name basis. Noted.

  “I agree! Who would have thought that Clarissa has a business mind?. I always thought she would just end up working at the school in town.”

  “Oh, she's very much a go-getter all right,” I cut in. “And I think with her minor in design, she’s going to be a huge asset moving forward with this project. The design of a bar, the feel customers get when they walk in, that’s arguably the most important part of the storefront.”

  Clarissa smiles and rubs my arm. “Don’t sell yourself short, honey. The drinks are important, too. Having a star mixologist like you is going to make this the most amazing bar. I can’t wait to get creative.”

  A warm tingle spreads through my chest. With Clarissa on my team, this entire project is seeming ever more like an easy layup.

  The hostess leads us to a table, and we sit down in a booth. Mrs. Crabtree and Mrs. Hanks sit on one side and they instantly go into catch-up mode, talking about old times.

  “Did you two go to high school together?” I ask.

  Mrs. Crabtree says, “We did. We both graduated in the same year. Eighty-Seven.”

  “Oh. Tell me more,” I say. “I always thought I would have enjoyed at least the music of the 80s.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Hanks exclaims. “Not just the music! There are the hairstyles, the classic movies... Like Breakfast Club.”

  "Breakfast Club? What's that?"

  Mrs. Hanks and Mrs. Crabtree drop their jaws open like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone.

  "You have not seen Breakfast Club?" Mrs. Crabtree asks me incredulously, laying her hand across her chest.

  "Stop it, Honey," Clarissa says, hitting me in the arm. "That's the movie with the guy on the wrestling team and the misfits in detention."

  A light bulb goes off.

  "Oh." I smack myself in the head. "Yeah, I've definitely seen that movie."

  Clarissa shakes her head, lovingly gazing into my eyes.

  "That's why I'm glad you're here! To double check me on things like this," I wink.

  We order few pizzas, some with pepperoni, and one vegetarian because Clarissa doesn't eat meat. We order some drinks, still making small talk. When our cocktails arrive, Mrs. Crabtree's tone turns serious.

  "Look, I'm happy to come out and about for you all, but I have to say, I do have some reservations about everything that's happening."

  "With the business?" I ask with a perching eyebrow.

  She nods.

  "Mrs. Crabtree, if you have any questions about my qualifications, I know, I don't have a college degree. But I have more bartending and managing experience than anyone in this town."

  "I'm not concerned with your or Clarissa's experience. I think the fact of the matter is, both of you complement each other quite nicely. She's the brains and you're the brawn."

  Clarissa and I make eye contact. I nod.

  "Yeah, I think that's a pretty accurate description of us," Clarissa agrees. “So what are you worried about, if you think we’re a good team?”

  Mrs. Crabtree takes a long sip of her Long Island iced tea and blows out a breath.

  "Well, here's the thing. I've done loans for couples before and the thing is, if they're not in a very serious relationship, sometimes things can go wrong. I don't mean to be a downer but you’re not even married yet. I don’t know i
f I would even recommend couples going into business together if they're married. And it's just, it's a slight concern of mine.”

  She sits back, looks at Mrs. Hanks and shrugs as if to say sorry.

  “Other than that,” Mrs. Crabtree continues, “I looked through the application yesterday and it looks fantastic. But to be honest, I hate to break it to you. I’m not the final approval on this. I was talking to some higher ups at the bank today, going over your application. Since you two aren’t married—not even engaged—the likelihood of getting your loan accepted is incredibly low."

  I clear my throat. "Well it's funny you say that."

  "Funny I say what?"

  "That we're not getting serious enough." I glance over at Clarissa. A look of fear spreads across her face. It's well hidden, but for a guy like me that knows what she looks like on a daily basis, I can sense it. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops ever so slightly. Her lips quivering.

  Underneath the table, she puts her hand on the top of my thigh and squeezes.

  Most guys would not have the balls to do what I’m about to do.

  And that’s why I’m not like most guys.

  "The thing is, Clarissa," I turn to her. "I wanted to ask you something tonight." She attempts to shield the fear with a placid, round smile.

  "Yes?" she croaks. “What’s that?”

  I get out of the booth and stand up. I pull out the ring Edgar gave me the other day and kneel down.

  "Baby, I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time. Will you marry me?

  14

  Mason

  Benefits

  The table goes dead silent. Even though I was the one who said them, part of me can't even believe the words that just came out of my mouth.

  Clarissa cups her hands over her face. And I can’t tell if it’s because she’s hiding tears, or holding back anger.

  Every second that passes feels like an eternity. The voices of everyone in the restaurant trickle down to a whisper.

  Maybe I’m taking this ruse too far with a legit marriage proposal in a public place. My entire future flashes before my eyes in a heartbeat.

  Clarissa hates me and never talks to me again.

  The loan disappears.

  Sebastian Blackwell fires me from my position as head bartender at The Watering Hole for trying to start a competitor.

  I live out my days as a beer-pourer in some third rate hole-in-the-wall.

  Shaking off the wild hallucinations, I clear my throat. "Mrs. Hanks, would you mind taking a picture of us?" I say, attempting to clear the tension in the air.

  "Sure,” Mrs. Hanks nods.

  I stare at Clarissa so fiercely, my eyes practically drill holes in her.

  Please, baby. I’ll make this worth your while. Anything you want. When we stage the breakup, we can make me out to be the total asshole. I don’t care. For the love of God, just don’t blow my cover.

  With Clarissa saying nothing, I start talking. "Honey, it's a little bit sudden, I know. But after all, we are really great friends who go way back. And I can't think of starting this business without at least having a ring on that finger. Would you?"

  She takes a deep breath, lets her hands away from her mouth to reveal a big, teary-eyed smile.

  "Yes,” she finally croaks.

  The entire restaurant claps as I slip the ring over her finger.

  Her eyes are wide with surprise as she looks at the big honking diamond ring.

  When I kiss her, I can practically feel the electricity flow from her lips to mine.

  Or maybe that’s her anger.

  "Wow, thank you. Thank you," Mrs. Crabtree says. Clarissa doesn't say too much and her mom seems absolutely stunned.

  "I’ll have another drink," Clarissa says, tapping her wine glass when the server passes again.

  By the end of the night, we’ve eaten a total of three and a half pizzas as well as drank a round of cocktails and two bottles of wine. And I'm telling my best bar stories so I’ve got the entire table cracking up.

  "Well," Mrs. Crabtree says, looking at her watch, "Thank you so much.”

  "Hey, we can take care of this bill,” I say, reaching for the check.

  "No, I'll take care of it," she says. "It's on me. I had a little bit of doubt going into this meal but, I'm gonna have to be honest. I have never seen such a sincere, loving couple like you two, and if the environment for your future bar is as tonight, well, this is going to be a huge success."

  Clarissa's mom puts her hand over her heart. "Next time, can you give me a little bit of warning before you get married?" She says, raising her eyebrows.

  We both laugh awkwardly. If she only knew.

  I drive Clarissa and her mom back to their house, and Clarissa's mom gets out. Clarissa lingers in the front seat of my truck.

  The smile from her face is absent, replaced by absolute anger.

  "So. What. The fuck. Was that!?"

  "I'm sorry," I say. "I got a little bit carried away. And..."

  "Carried the fuck away?! Mason, I agreed to be in a fake relationship with you. Engagement is where I draw the line!”

  “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Oh! The right thing to do was to ask me to marry you in the busiest bar in town? In front of my fucking mom? Are you insane?" She raises up her left and holds up the ring. It sparkles in the moonlight. “And where the hell did you get a ring like this? This is...why didn’t you just sell this to get the loan?!

  "I went too far. I agree."

  She exhales loudly, and turns her head away from me, toward the passenger’s seat window. "I can't believe you did that. What happened to nice Mason? I was liking nice Mason and now you’re asshole Mason again. If we're gonna be business partners you need to run these types of decisions by me. I can't have you just doing whatever the hell you want without consulting me."

  “Can I be honest with you?"

  "Yes, be honest, go ahead. I’d love that.” Her voice is laced with anger.

  "I didn't really even know I was going to do that before the words came out of my lips. I just looked at Mrs. Crabtree, looked at you, and the words just came out. It was like a reflex."

  I take a deep breath. "You know, maybe we're going too far with this thing. Maybe this is stupid, we should just come clean and tell the truth."

  She swallows. "No."

  "No?" I arch an eyebrow.

  "I'm glad to do this with you. But we need to clarify the rules. And I want a fifty percent buy-in on this bar. Not the seventy-five percent for you, twenty-five for me we originally agreed on."

  "I talked to a lawyer and he said that’s standard since I’m taking on the financial risk.”

  She crosses her arms. "I'm putting in a lot of time and effort to making this work. I want half!"

  "Done," I say. "Anything else I can do for you?"

  "Yeah," she says. “I want benefits."

  "Benefits? Like what kind of benefits?"

  She glances at me. And the way she's looking at me, I can't fucking think. She looks like a lioness in the wild about to devour her prey.

  "You know what kind of benefits. Don't act like you're a prude."

  I swallow. My chest heats. I look over at her, tension in the air is palpable. She looks fucking gorgeous and she doesn't even know it. This is the weird exception to the rule.

  "Just fucking kiss me," she says.

  "This is freaking me out a little bit." I say. "I don't know if we should do this. Your brother-"

  “My brother isn’t here,” she says. “And we definitely should do this. You’re incredibly hot, Mason. And I. Want. The Benefits.”

  I’m speechless.

  “I get the benefits. Or I call this thing off. It’s your choice.”

  15

  Mason

  The Line

  If your best friend's sister demanded that you be her friend with benefits, what would you say?

  As Clarissa looks at me with her gorgeous blue eyes and reac
hes her soft but strong arm across the car seat and puts it on my leg, my mind runs a mile a minute.

  Would you be strong enough to turn her down in the name of the honor code you’ve established with your best friend?

  And if this was the same girl you've been fantasizing about for years, tell me, what would you do?

  I’ll tell you what I do.

  I reach across the front seat of my truck.

  I grab her by the waist and press my lips to hers.

  We’ve officially crossed the line. And this fake-fiancée-with-a-huge-ring-thing just got a whole lot more complicated.

  But I can’t think about that right now.

  Our mouths just fighting each other, tongues battling for territory. I was expecting this to be a soft, slow kiss. Far from it. Clarissa's a ball of pent-up passion, and I can feel it. So am I. She lets a growl slip out the side of her mouth as my cheek knocks into her glasses.

  It’s a messy make out, and it’s hot as hell.

  My hand rides up the side of her hip.

  "Hmmm, yeah, fuck." She whispers, as she runs a hand from my shoulder, down my biceps, to my forearm.

  “So you really want the benefits?” I whisper as I trail kisses down the side of her neck. In the soft glow of the moonlight and a streetlamp, I swear I see little goosebumps forming on her skin.

  “Yes, Mason. It’s been so long since I’ve...oh God that feels good.” She moans as I lift up the strap of her dress and kiss her shoulder.

  I wish I could transport us to a bed right now, so I could show her everything this tongue knows how to do.

  "Nevermind. God. You're fucking hot,” she groans as she threads a hand through my hair. I bring my face back up to hers, kissing her on the lips again. I pull back just to stare at her and remember this moment.

  It’s something I want etched into my memory forever.

  "I'm fucking hot? You're the fucking hot one. Hey, take these off," I say, helping her get her glasses off.

  "What? You don't like my nerdiness anymore?"

  I laugh. “Not when it hits me in the face. I'm trying to make out with you. But you're definitely going to have those on for a later fantasy."

 

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