Page 5

5

SLATER

“ A ll right, two Sunsets coming right up,” I say.

With the buzz of conversation loud enough to drown out the music playing through the speakers mounted overhead, I set about making one of my signature drinks for the two women at the bar. They’re both doing their best to flirt and catch my attention, but I’m not here for that. I’m just here to work. I enjoy my guest bartending shifts because it’s a break from the monotony of unclogging sinks and toilets in my buildings. It gives me a chance to socialize a bit and just do something different from time to time. It’s a nice change of pace.

Back in the day, before my father passed, I was bartending full-time. I was making something of a name for myself at the bar I worked at for the new and creative drinks I made. People made a big deal out of them, calling me a genius mixologist, which I think is kind of ridiculous. I mean, the truth of the matter is, I was bored slinging the same stupid drinks over and over again, so I just started doing something different. My concoctions became popular, and people were flocking to the bar to try them. My boss at the time loved it, of course.

It was fun, and I was having a good time. But then my father died, and everything changed. My boss at the time did everything he could to keep me working at the bar, but those buildings were my dad’s legacy, and I felt like it was my duty to take up the mantle. I still do. It’s steadier work and I’m making more money, which is nice. But it can also sometimes be lonely work. The only time people call is when they have a problem they need me to fix. I go and fix it and that’s that. There isn’t a lot of opportunity for social interaction.

That’s why I started to pick up guest bartending shifts. I’ve still got a popular name and use social media to announce where I will be because I’ve still got a following who will show up to whatever bar I’m hosting at. It’s a win-win. The bar makes money, and I get to do something fun and social for a night. To be truthful, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten to be a bit more solitary and less of a good-time guy, but now and then, I still like to hang out and be around people in a fun, social setting. Guest shifts sate that need in me.

I pass on the two Sunsets to the women who ordered them and flash them a smile as they drop a ten into my tip jar and a scrap of paper I assume has one of their numbers on it. I tend to collect at least a few numbers in my tip jar every shift, but they end up in the trash can. That’s not why I do these shifts.

Stu Hopper, the bar owner, saunters over with a big, shit-eating grin on his face. “Looks like you drew a pretty good crowd tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re doing pretty well.”

“I can’t thank you enough for doing a couple of shifts here.”

“Hey, it’s all good,” I tell him. “It’s good for both of us.”

From the corner of my eye, I see somebody approaching the bar. I turn and feel my stomach clench when I see Sierra and another girl her age standing there. They both smile, and Sierra’s friend gives me a cute little wave that makes me laugh. Stu’s deep, booming laughter rings out as he slaps me on the back.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he says.

I walk over to where they’re standing and lean against the bar. “You made it.”

“We did,” Sierra says. “Moni here thought we needed a night out.”

“You have no idea how badly this girl needs to have a good time,” the other girl says.

Sierra rolls her eyes. “Slater, this is my best friend, Monica. That status might change depending on her behavior here tonight.”

“Don’t listen to her; she’ll never get rid of me. She loves me too much,” the girl says. “And you can call me Moni.”

“Nice to meet you, Moni.”

“You too.”

“Well, what can I get you two? My treat,” I ask.

They look at the chalkboard propped up on the bar behind me that lists all the specialty drinks I’m making tonight. Sierra seems lost, and I can tell she doesn’t drink much. If at all.

“We’ll leave it in your capable hands,” Sierra says.

“All right then,” I say. “Give me just a minute.”

A few more people come to the bar, so I handle them first. After getting their drinks and sending them on their way, I quickly whip up a couple of cocktails and set them down on the bar in front of Sierra and her friend.

“And what are these?” Sierra asks brightly.

“I call these Whiplashes.”

“Sounds ominous.”

Moni takes a drink. “Wow. These are amazing.”

Sierra takes a hesitant sip and nods. “Wow. They really are. What’s in them?”

“A little of this and a little of that,” I tell them. “Go easy on them, though. They’re sweet and citrusy, but they pack a wicked punch.”

“Noted,” Sierra says and looks around.

“I checked out your socials,” Moni says. “You’re practically a celebrity.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I tell her.

“I would. You’ve got a huge following.”

“You’ll have to forgive her,” Sierra says. “She’s a bit of a stalker with boundary issues.”

“Nothing wrong with checking out the man who wants to bang my best friend,” Moni replies with a shrug.

Sierra squeals and slaps her friend’s arm as her face turns bright red. She quickly buries her face in her hands and looks as if she wants to crawl into a hole right then and there. It’s absolutely adorable.

“I have nothing but honorable intentions,” I tell Moni.

“That’s a shame,” she replies, drawing another mortified squeak from Sierra.

Laughing, I walk to the other end of the bar, where a couple is calling my name. As much as I like to stand there talking to Sierra, I still have a job to do. The couple I’m talking to follow me on social media, so I chat them up as I make their drinks, ensuring they’re having a good time. I steal a glance over at Sierra and frown when I see a man I don’t know sidling up beside her at the bar. He says something he obviously thinks is witty, but the look on Sierra and Moni’s face tells me his presence is unwelcome. They move down a few stools, not being subtle about wanting him to leave them alone, but he follows, continuing to pester them.

Seeing him talking to Sierra in the first place irritates me. But the fact that he’s following her around when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want his attention infuriates me. I turn to the couple I’ve been talking to.

“Excuse me,” I say through gritted teeth.

Walking around the bar, I make my way over to where Sierra and Moni are sitting, my eyes fixed on the guy hovering over her. Sierra is shrinking back, and there’s fear blended with the irritation on her face. Moni has her hand on the guy’s shoulder, trying to push him back.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” the guy says.

“Get away from us,” Moni growls. “We’re not interested.”

“I’m trying to talk to her,” the guy replies, “not you.”

“Time for you to go. We don’t tolerate dudes who harass women. Not in this bar,” I say, my voice low and menacing.

The guy turns to me with a cocky sneer on his face. He’s about my height but looks like an irritating, frat boy who relies on his size to intimidate people. I’d bet everything I have this little bitch has never actually been in a fight. Unfortunately for him, I have. Unlike him, I don’t rely on my size and know how to handle myself.

“Why don’t you get back behind the bar and make your little drinks?” the guy says. “I’m talking to the lady here.”

“Doesn’t seem like she wants to talk to you,” I reply.

He squares up to me, that cocky smirk curling his lips. He’s doing his best to hide behind a mask of swagger and bravado, but he can’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“You should mind your own business, bud,” he says.

“My bar. My business,” I reply. “And I say it’s time for you to go.”

“And if I don’t?”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “Do you really want me to embarrass you in front of all these people?”

“Go sling your drinks and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Like I said, my bar, my business,” I say. “You’re making this woman uncomfortable, and I’m not going to tolerate you harassing her. Not in my bar.”

Like the little bitch that he is, the dude throws a punch when he thinks I’m not ready for it. Unfortunately for him, I am. I block the punch with minimal effort, then reach back and drive my fist into his face. His nose crumples beneath my fist with a satisfying crack as his head snaps back, and he screeches in pain. A collective gasp sounds in the bar as all eyes turn our way, morbid fascination on everybody’s faces.

As he continues to squeal, blood oozes from between his fingers, crimson droplets spattering his shirt. The guy cups his hands over his nose, tears spilling down his face, and he howls something that sounds kind of like, “You broke my nose.” But it’s so garbled I can’t understand what he’s actually saying. It doesn’t matter, though. He’s done.

The bar is absolutely silent as I grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him to the door. Using my shoulder, I nudge the door open and throw him out. The guy lands on the sidewalk, butt first, with a loud grunt. Blood streams down his nose, and he looks at me through red, watering eyes.

“Don’t come back in here,” I say. “Ever.”

Turning around, I let the door close behind me, and the bar erupts in applause. I give them all a wave as I make my way back over to Sierra.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She looks at me, her eyes filled with gratitude and something close to awe. “I am now. Thank you for?—”

“Don’t mention it,” I say. “Let me get you two a fresh drink.”

As I start slinging drinks again, the festive atmosphere returns to the bar. The music, laughter, and conversation are lively, and the dipshit I just threw out is completely forgotten. Stu leans against the bar beside me as I whip up a few drinks.

“Cute girl,” he says. “Friend of yours?”

I glance over at Sierra and give her a grin. Moni leans close and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh as her cheeks turn red. The smile on her face is both innocent and somehow sensual at the same time, and I feel my cock stiffening just by looking at her.

“She’s my best friend’s kid sister,” I say.

“Kind of protective of her, aren’t you?”

“That guy was harassing her. I didn’t think you’d want a sexual assault in your bar, man.”

“No, no, you’re right. I don’t. It was a good call to throw that asshole out,” he says. “But is there something going on between you two?”

“What? No. Like I said, she’s my best friend’s kid sister. I’ve known her since she was literally a kid,” I tell him.

There’s something about the way Stu’s looking at her that I don’t like. There’s a hunger in his eyes, which I recognize all too well. I turn and give him a look.

“She’s a kid,” I say. “You’re fifty-five, man.”

“What? I know,” he says with a chuckle. “I was just saying she’s a cute girl. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just chill.”

I finish pouring the drinks and pass them on to the customers who’ve been waiting for them. All the while, I keep an eye on Stu. And he keeps stealing glances at Sierra with a look on his face that I’m not a big fan of. When I catch him looking, he puts his hands up and offers me a smile I think is supposed to look reassuring but only makes him look like more of a creepy old guy trying to prey on a young girl.

“Seriously, bro. You need to lighten up a little,” Stu says.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

He’s probably not wrong, but for reasons that are inexplicable to me, when it comes to Sierra, lightening up just doesn’t seem to be in my skill set.