M. Malone
NYT & USA TODAY Bestselling Romance Author
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Chapter 2
MARK
I wipe the sweat from my brow as I pull yet another pale ale before putting it on a tray. The bar is packed tonight, and with that comes the constant chaos of voices, the clink of glassware and the drone of the TV in the corner. I can barely hear myself think but that’s exactly the way I like it.
Nell, one of my waitresses, appears at my elbow. “I need three cokes, one iced tea with lemon and a mojito.”
“Always with the fucking mojitos,” I mutter.
She grins. “I know there’s nothing you love more on a busy night than muddling mint leaves.”
A guy sits at the bar, one of our regulars, so I start pulling the fancy IPA he likes. As much as I may complain about the bachelorette parties, the occasional fights and the appletinis, I love this job. People don’t understand what it’s like when you leave the military and are suddenly thrown back in a world that doesn’t feel like it has a place for you anymore. But here, I have a place. The people who come here, most of them are just as lost as I was three years ago.
We have our own little community here.
And this is as close to family as I’ve had in ages.
Nell comes back from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with burgers and fries. The cook, Albert, has been here since Frankie opened the place and the only thing that he makes that tastes decent are burgers and fries. He’s also cranky as hell and calls out sick every time the Nationals lose a game but I know I’ll never fire him.
Family, it turns out, is a pain in the ass.
“Ty looks a little overwhelmed. Do you need me to help out behind the bar?” Nell double checks what’s on the tray with her ticket before glancing over at me.
“I’ve got it. He has to get used to the rush sometime.”
As she bustles off to handle her tables, I walk to the other end of the bar where Tyler is pulling a Guinness. Each one takes a few minutes to build properly so it’s no wonder he’s a little behind. I recognize the guys at his end of the bar. They usually come in every Friday, fresh from some business deal with their fancy suits and even fancier haircuts. They always order Guinness, probably because they read somewhere that it’s what “real men” drink, even though I doubt any of them could tell the difference if we switched it out with something else.
While he’s getting their pints, I take an order for two white wines and a pinot noir from a group of older ladies clustered at the very end of the bar. They look a little terrified to be in here so I figure they’re either lost or trying something new for Girl’s Night. As I pour their wine I joke around with them until they look slightly less scared.
Once I have them settled, I move next to the cash register where Ty’s closing out the tab for the business mogul crew.
“How’re things going, kid?”
His shoulders slump slightly. “Um, things have been really busy but I’m getting faster. I appreciate this job. I won’t let you down.”
I clap a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. “You’re doing fine. It’s Happy Hour, it’s supposed to be insane. That means business is good and we can all keep our jobs.”
He looks so relieved that I want to chuckle. How long has it been since I’ve cared enough about anything to get that worked up? Whatever part of the brain covers giving a fuck, mine is clearly broken.
“How long have you owned this place?” he asks.
“Almost three years now. If I haven’t run the place into the ground yet, then I think we’re safe.” I quickly turn the conversation to the ball game on TV, happy when he moves on without any other questions.
This bar has been my salvation ever since I got out of the military but thinking about how I came to own it isn’t my favorite thing to do. When I first stepped back on American soil, I truly wasn’t sure what I was going to do. All I knew was that I was lucky to be alive, even if there was no one left on this earth to care that I was.
Well, that wasn’t true. Frankie cared. That was why he’d originally hired me to manage the bar. Because he had known that without it, I had no purpose. Also, because nobody else would put up with his mean ass.
The cranky bastard was the only person who cared if the dirty kid asking for change at the end of his street actually had a meal that day. He hadn’t been the type to ask questions, which I appreciated, but he’d been the only person in my life to actually give me what I needed. He paid me under the table to clean up the bar before I was legally old enough to work and made sure I stayed in school long enough to get my diploma.
He was a gruff old bastard but to a kid that didn’t have a father, he’d been exactly what I needed. The kind of man who told it to you straight but only what was necessary to help you.
Frankie believed in honesty, so I believed in honesty.
He’d been a Navy SEAL and so I became a Navy SEAL.
After an unexpected illness, he needed better health insurance so he’d started working at this fancy hotel downtown and I bought in as a partner on the bar. But he loves this place and it’s merry band of misfits. So I will do whatever it takes to keep it profitable.
I take a moment to survey the crowd, contentment washing over me. Everyone has what they need for the moment so all is well.
Then I turn around.
“Hey boss.”
“Jessi. What are you doing here?”
Immediately I stand straighter, making sure that not a single part of me might accidentally brush against her as she walks by. She’s not scheduled to work tonight. If she had been, I would have found someone else to cover the bar so I could hide out in my office.
She smiles prettily, probably because she can see what I’m thinking written all over my face.
“Ty has to leave early, remember?”
Sweat pops out on my brow. I remember the kid asking to take off early but his shift was supposed to be covered by Margot, one of the other legacy employees. She’d worked with Frankie for years and has a head full of bleached blond hair and a chainsmoker’s laugh. She’s a bit of a battle ax which is exactly what you need during the Happy Hour rush. Even the meanest of drunks won’t fuck with Margot when she’s behind the bar.
“I thought Marg was covering?” The desperation in my voice is obvious even to my own ears.
I can work with Margot, no problem. She’s a dream employee. I’ve certainly never had any inappropriate thoughts about how she looks while shaking a martini. The sound of her voice doesn’t make me instantly hard and I’m not plagued with visions of what she might look like face down in my bed.
She’s also old enough to be my grandmother.
I need Margot to be on shift.
“She’s babysitting. She asked me to cover for her. Looks like it’ll be just the two of us tonight.”
My stomach drops until it feels like it’s hanging out somewhere around my knees. The two of us? Alone?
Not a good idea.
I grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. As I move, I can feel Jessi hovering somewhere near my elbow. I sneak a glance over at her.
What the fuck is she wearing?
My blood boils as I recognize what she calls her “second date” dress, a strappy black number that clings like a second skin. I overheard her explaining it to Margot once. Apparently first dates didn’t warrant the full effort of getting that dressed up. Her dark hair is bundled up into one of those messy high buns women seem to love and her dark eyes flash with humor when she catches me looking.
Fuck.
The last thing I want to do is encourage her. Getting involved with an employee is a recipe for drama. Getting involved with anyone, really. I’m not exactly boyfriend material.
“You don’t have to stay. I can handle it.”
“By yourself? That’s crazy. Besides, it’s not like I have anywhere I need to be.”
When I don’t respond to that leading statement, she pouts a little but eventually goes into the back to talk to Bert. As soon as she’s gone, my shoulders sag with relief. Good bartenders who can make quality drinks consistently while also being good with the customers are hard to find. Jessi has been working here for almost a year now and she knows her stuff. She’s a great employee and I can’t afford to lose her.
As the night wears on, the crowd begins to thin out. I take a moment to step back and survey the scene. The bar is still buzzing with activity, but it’s not as hectic as it was earlier. Jessi appears at my elbow again and I grit my teeth.
Does she have to stand so close?
“Okay. Ty said he doesn’t have to leave yet. Although I think he just doesn’t want to lose out on tips from the huge party that just came in,” she whispers playfully.
I glance over to see that Ty is frantically making drinks for a crowd at the other end of the bar. Most of the people are wearing business casual attire but I recognize some of the guys with them.
“They’re from an office nearby. They tip well.”
She smiles. “Good for Ty. But I guess that means I’ll stick to this end of the bar with you.”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll be in the office handling… things. I need to take care of some stuff.”
The burn of her stare follows me as I escape into the back. Once I’m alone in the safety of my office, I drop down into my chair and let out a groan. This flirting thing with Jessi has gotten way out of control. She’s clearly just playing around but she has no idea what a bad idea it is to play with a man like me. I’ve done everything I can to put her off but it’s only a matter of time before my willpower cracks and I give her exactly what she’s asking for.
Which is why I need to stay away from her.
Maybe I’ll just stay in my office for the rest of the night. Because she may be unaware but I remember exactly what happened the last time I lost control.
– – – –
xoxo,
minx
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