by M. E. Carter
“I’ve already started packing. I can’t wait to get out of here. I love mom, but she is stifling sometimes.”
That she is.
“She just wants to keep you from making the mistakes I did.”
Nicole huffs. “I will never call my nephew a mistake. He’s too stinkin’ cute. How is he anyway? Tell me what I missed.”
“That kid,” I say with a chuckle as I pull into the drive-through of the post office. “He fell asleep on the couch last night so I put him in his new bed. In the middle of the night, I woke up and happened to look over. He was sitting straight up, glanced around for a second like he was in a daze and when he found me said, ‘No mama. My bed!’ Then he climbed into my bed and attached himself to me. I swear he has eight legs with suction cups sometimes.”
Nicole laughs. “That sounds like him alright. Poor kid is going to be sleeping with you well into his teenage years.”
“Poor kid? Poor me. If he gets any bigger, I’ll fall off the bed for sure. As it is, I wake up hanging off the side.”
She sighs deeply. “I miss him so much.”
“I know. He misses his Nic-Nic, too. Hold on just a second. I need to drop these bills in the mailbox.”
“Okay.”
I count the envelopes quickly to make sure I haven’t forgotten any. Yep, I’ve got all four. I sigh as I shove them in the slot and roll my window back up.
Time to hit the highway.
“Sorry. I’m back,” I say to my sister as I look over my shoulder to get in the correct lane.
“It’s no problem. But why are you mailing in your bills instead of doing it online?”
I run my hands through my hair before gripping the steering wheel a little harder than necessary. “This way buys me a few more days to get some more cash into the account to make sure it doesn’t overdraft.”
“Don’t you have overdraft protection?”
“Yeah, but I need to keep that small nest egg in my savings. Tires for my car aren’t cheap and I’ll need them soon.”
I can envision the frown she’s wearing now. She worries about her big sister too much. “I get why you had to move away. It just sucks that you guys aren’t here anymore.”
“Not like you’ll be there much longer. Just a couple more weeks and you’ll be spreading your own wings. Besides, you’ll come to visit right? Once we get a little more settled?”
“Of course, I will. He’s got a birthday coming up in a couple of months. I wouldn’t miss that for the world. Just make sure it’s on a weekend.”
“I will do my best,” I say with a wide grin at the thought of her visiting my new home. “Hopefully we’ll see you before then. If nothing else, we’ll Skype in the next couple of days. You know how he loves that.”
Exiting the highway, I pay close attention to the street names, looking for my turn.
“And I love seeing straight up his nose every time you walk away from the iPad. By the way, you need to clean your ceiling fans. I forgot to tell you that last time we talked.”
“I do not,” I say with a giggle. “I just moved in. They’re fine.”
“I don’t know. I got a very long and close up view of them. It was a lot of fun to watch them spin while listening to Paw Patrol in the background.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll pay closer attention next time.”
Finding the parking lot to Frui Vita, I pull in and take a space under a light in the middle.
“I don’t mind just sitting there with him,” she adds. “I just prefer to watch him, not your ceiling.”
“You’re a good auntie, Nic-Nic.”
“And you’re a good mom, KK.”
Turning off my car, I grab my purse and toss my keys inside. “As much as I want to talk to you more, I just got to my new job so I need to go.”
Nicole gasps. “You got a job? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it happened yesterday. Don’t get all excited. I’m working at a bar. But I like the owner and the waitress seems really nice so I don’t want to be late on my first day.”
“I’m so happy for you. Call me when you can so you can tell me all about it. Maybe you’ll meet a hunky customer and fall in love.”
I snort a laugh. “In my experience, a bar is the last place I want to meet someone. But thanks for the good vibes. Go finish packing, baby sister. You have a dorm to move into.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We disconnect and I take a deep breath.
It’s not my dream job, but it’s gainful employment. Time to make a good impression.
SEVEN
Paul
Firing Desiree wasn’t as dramatic as I thought it would be. At first, she denied my claims of her drinking copious amounts on the job but the more I insisted I knew the truth, the less weight her rebuttals held. Finally, she admitted she’d done a couple of stints in rehab and apologized for her behavior.
It made me kind of sad to find out she has a serious problem with alcohol. It also made me question how deeply rooted the addiction is if she decided to work here. Did she think she could handle it or was it just a great way to have access to all the free booze she wanted?
I’m not sure, but it’s also not something I can dwell on. I offered to help her find another rehab, but she didn’t take me up on it. One thing I’ve learned from working in this industry as long as I have, you can’t help an alcoholic. You can support one in their journey to health, but they have to do the work. The best way I could assist her in getting better is by taking her job away.
Of course, that means I have to man the bar for a while as I train my newest employee. I’m going to have longer hours while I keep up with all the office duties as well, but I’m hoping it’ll be a quick and easy transition.
Tammy eases up to the counter and places her tray on top. “What time is my new co-worker showing up?”
I glance at the clock behind me. “Probably in the next few minutes. I told her to be here by six so I could get her started before we get busy.” Leaning onto my elbow, I ask Tammy the same question I’ve tossed out a few times already. “Are you sure you don’t want to bartend instead of waitress?”
Tammy holds up her hands and backs away, like the idea of being behind a bar is repulsive. “Not a chance. I am too old to try and memorize recipes and lord knows I don’t like people enough to have to stand here and listen to their sob stories.”
“Are you sure?” I smirk at her. “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who could pass up on all the juicy gossip.”
“Juicy is one thing. Droning on and on about the same problems everybody else has irks me. Do you really think you want an irritated me trying to keep those customers happy?”
She makes sense. “Well played, Tammy. I will concede your point and leave you be.”
“Thank you,” she says with a quick nod. “Now if you don’t mind, Jimmy would like an Old Fashioned and Dwayne has decided to upgrade to a Dos Equis instead of his usual Coors Light.”
I snicker at her candor while I grab a fresh glass to make Jimmy’s Old Fashioned. “Wow. Dwayne must be having a rough night.”
“Like I said, droning on about the same old shit. Notice I was able to happily walk away to talk to you instead.”
“I get it.” I pop the top on the beer bottle and hand the drinks over to her. “Here you go. Good luck getting in and out quickly and without rolling your eyes.”
She walks away just as the door opens and a woman I assume is my newest bartender walks in. She looks vaguely familiar from the reception last week, but again, I wasn’t paying much attention.
Now that I’m not busy and she’s looking around the room, I can take a small amount of time to really look at her. She’s beautiful. Dark hair falls down to the middle of her back. Long, lithe body with what appears to be even longer legs. Her body type alone means all the dancing jobs on her application make complete sense. It also has me wondering why she wants to work at a place like
this.
I already know the answer. She told me on the phone—she needs the job. I’m just unclear why she’s not still in her previous line of work. Her entire employment history was in Houston, so I assume she moved to the San Antonio area recently. Still, that doesn’t answer all the questions running through my brain.
And I have a ton. Why did she move here? Does she like the area? Is she single?
Her assessment complete, she turns, her eyes finding mine, and smiles. I swear it hits me straight in the gut.
This is going to be a problem.
I’m already at half-mast in my pants and we’ve barely met. Nope. Can’t happen. Not only am I at least a decade older than her, but I also need to keep my head down and remember that I’m the boss. Always. I will not fraternize with the staff and set that kind of example. I want this to be a classy place and getting a reputation for sleeping with my employees isn’t the way to do that. This place will not fail because I can’t keep it in my pants.
Still, as she practically glides up to the counter, I recognize this is going to take some very strong willpower on my part to hold these self-imposed boundaries.
“You’re Paul, right?”
“I am.” I do my best to act normal, despite my heart beating rapidly as she stands there, waiting for further instructions. I put out my hand and the moment our palms touch, it’s like a current of electricity runs right through me. I’m stronger than this. I will not let some primal urge I learned how to control in high school derail my business practices. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Kiersten.”
“Likewise. And thanks again. I’m looking forward to getting started.”
I grab a few papers from behind the bar and pass them to her. “I know we talked about the bartending job and I still plan for that to be your main function, but I realize we may need to have you do a couple of days of waitressing when Tammy is off. I hope that’s not a dealbreaker. The pay is still the same so no worries about that.”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t mind. I actually thought about that on my way here. Tammy had told me it was only the three of you. It makes sense we all probably need to do double-duty sometimes.”
Thirty seconds on the job, and I can already tell I’m not going to have to worry about having a disgruntled employee. Maybe I need to look at putting Tammy in charge of all the hiring. I almost laugh to myself at the thought. I’m sure she’d turn me down at having to interview potential candidates. Not that there’s much need to beef up staff at this point. We need customers first.
I don’t say any of that. Instead, I stick to the topic at hand. “I appreciate you being a team player while we get off the ground. First things first, let me get you a pen.” I quickly find one sitting on the register and hand it to her. “There’s a bunch of new hire paperwork to fill out, but once it’s done, we’ll get your account set up to clock in and get going.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Kiersten settles onto a stool and dives into the paperwork.
I keep busy by doing some quick inventory and keeping the Dos Equis and Old Fashioneds coming. An older couple sits close together at a table in the corner, quietly chatting, their hands constantly touching each other. A new guy I haven’t seen here before laughs loudly across the room as he battles it out with Dwayne at the dartboard. Tammy hustles about, seeming pleased that Kiersten is here and not just because she already likes her better than she ever did Desiree. I pretend not to notice every time she looks at the newest employee and then winks at me, but I see it. Acknowledging her attempts at matchmaking is the last thing I need.
However, ignoring Tammy doesn’t mean I’m not sneaking glances at Kiersten, observing small things about her, like the crinkle between her eyebrows when she concentrates and the way she taps the top of the pen on her chin as she reads the questions. All things I shouldn’t be noticing but do because I apparently have no willpower.
The other thing I realize is that she looks familiar. And not just because of the reception. After driving myself crazy searching my memory for where I’ve seen her before, I finally give up and go a different route.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Kiersten looks up, a small smile on her lips. “Sure.”
“Why do I know you?”
Her brows furrow. “What?”
“I feel like I’ve met you before or we’ve interacted. I just can’t put a finger on it.”
She looks off like she’s searching her own memories for the answer. “Oh man, it could be anything. I used to come visit my best friend when she went to Southeast. We never came here, but we frequented a few different bars. Could that be it?”
“Maybe. Who’s your friend?”
“Lauren Bagley.”
I shake my head slightly. The name doesn’t ring a bell.
“Oh.” She snaps her fingers like she’s figured it out. “It’s probably from Annika.”
“Jaxon’s wife?”
“Yeah. After the… um… incident…” her face falls, as does mine I’m sure. “…we would only go to the place Jaxon’s old boss worked at. That was you right? Jaxon’s boss?”
It was. He and I didn’t work together very long. The incident she’s referring to is Jaxon interrupting as a guy drugged and raped Annika behind the dumpster of Ambrosia where we were both working at the time. It was a few years ago, but it’s not something I’ve ever forgotten. It’s actually why I left Ambrosia and moved on to a quieter scene. I wanted to get away from the constant memories and the fear of it happening to someone else on my watch. It wasn’t my fault, per se. But that doesn’t stop the guilt and wondering if I could have done something to prevent it.
My job change worked to all our benefit, though. Jaxon and I stayed in touch and as Annika started venturing out more, she was most comfortable hanging out at places where I worked. She didn’t need to explain why she would only drink bottled water that she opened herself, and I made sure to keep a close eye on her and her friends. I was never actually a bouncer but after witnessing something like that, being protective came naturally.
As vague memories of Annika sitting around at my former place of employment, more interested in the football games on the televisions behind the bar, than partying, I nod.
“That has to be it. Annika would come with her roommate and another friend.”
Kiersten nods vigorously. “That was us. Lauren was the roommate and I was the other friend. You probably don’t remember us because we were the ones on the dance floor the whole time.”
Now that we’ve figured it out, I do suddenly remember Kiersten catching my eye before. She would rarely stop moving to grab a drink, too interested in dancing. I remember thinking she was stunning on the dance floor—graceful and sensual. She knew how to move her body in ways no one else even came close to.
“Wasn’t there another person? All I remember is she was really short and had a really short boyfriend.”
Kiersten laughs. It’s boisterous and fun, the kind of sound we need around here. “Yes! What was her name.” She snaps her fingers a few times. “Um… Ellery! She was a gymnast as was her boyfriend.”
“That explains the height.”
“I think Lauren still sees her on social media but she sort of disappeared after graduation. Moved off with her boyfriend or something.”
I’m glad to figure out our connection so it stops making me insane, but realizing my attraction actually started a long time ago isn’t going to make it any easier to hold to my boundaries.
“Well,” I finally say trying to hold my resolve, “I’m glad Annika and Jaxon have such good friends.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m the one who is grateful for them.” Shifting gears, she picks up the papers in front of her and taps them on the counter, making sure they’re put together evenly. “I think these are done. What now boss?” she asks playfully as she hands them over.
Damn, she’s cute. This is going to be rough.
Nope. Not going there. I will not
allow any distractions to my business. Failure isn’t an option.
“First things first. How are your mixed drink recipes?”
“Depends on the drink. I know some of the basics—Bloody Mary, martinis, margarita, things like that. The less common ones I probably need to learn.”
“That’s all you need to get started. Let me show you the office where you can leave your stuff and we’ll get you all set up.”
She flashes me that smile again before hopping off the stool and following me to the back. I just shake my head. Hiring her was a great idea. I just hope I don’t screw up all my other ideas because of it.
EIGHT
Kiersten
Working at Frui Vita is turning out better than I expected. It’s not teaching dance, which I miss desperately, but I enjoy the work I’m doing, and learning recipes for mixed drinks hasn’t been that hard. Not that we have that many specialty drinks orders. But it’s kind of fun coming in a little early and creating something new every day. It’s only for Paul to taste test so he knows I’m making progress in my training, but considering he’s trusting me behind the bar alone more, it’s nice to have the feedback.
It also means I get to spend some alone time with him. I shouldn’t be nearly as happy about that part as I am. But god he smells good. And his unruly brown hair that always looks like he’s been thoroughly fucked, which of course gives me images of what I imagine he looks like naked. And every time he talks his voice makes me want to melt into a puddle.
