by Dani McLean
Shit. Fuck. Damn. “Shit, no. I forgot, but I’ll make it happen.”
“Tiff, you know how important this is to me. My parents are only in town for two days, and I’ve already booked dinner. I told them you’d be there.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be there,” I promised before turning on a sultry tone. “I’m not working tonight. Did you want to come over after Audrey leaves? I miss you.”
“And deal with your tipsy ass? No, thank you. I know how you two get.”
“You like my ass.”
She giggled. “It’s alright. Besides, I’m heading over to KC’s to hate-watch MAFS. It’ll be too late to come back across town by the time we’re finished.”
Ah, KC. Hannah’s best friend. She was … I wanted to say nice, but honestly, I couldn’t remember ever hearing her say anything nice. Ever. About anyone.
They both majored in art history, and when Hannah had started an internship at the Art Institute, KC had followed. When Hannah had finished the internship and taken a job at the Museum of Contemporary Art, so had KC. They loved hate-watching dating shows, judging all things art (and people), and I knew getting into KC’s good books was a major stepping stone to making my relationship with Hannah last.
The problem was that KC seemed not to like me very much.
It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. KC wasn’t subtle about the veiled jokes she had given Hannah about our relationship. It reminded me of the way Audrey’s ex-husband had been.
And yes, he was a douche canoe of epic proportions (the size of which I’m sure would even impress Smug Sam), but at this rate, I had to wonder if I wasn’t the common denominator. No matter how much I’d love to call everyone assholes and move on, I knew that wasn’t fair.
I was a lot to take. I knew that. And I had no intentions of changing myself to fit in with how other people thought I “should” be.
But that didn’t lessen the sting.
“You know, KC thinks you’re putting this dinner off on purpose because you’re scared to meet my parents.”
Yeah, well, KC is a jerk (was what I absolutely didn’t say).
“Absolutely not. I’m looking forward to meeting them.” And I was. Hannah wanted this, and I wanted to make her happy.
“It’s just … I know you haven’t taken that step before because you’ve been afraid of a commitment,” I bit my lip and said nothing (although I wanted nothing more than to tell her the million reasons that wasn’t true), “but that’s why it’s so important to do this. Then, maybe you’ll see that it’s not that big of a deal.”
It sounded to me like she was trying to convince herself, but I knew now wasn’t the time to question it. If we were talking in person it would be better; I could read her expression clearer. And the last thing I wanted was to give KC any further ammunition. I couldn’t tell if it was platonic jealousy or something more, but that woman apparently knew all the right ways to dig her nose into our relationship, so it was best if I put a pin in my concerns for now.
“I know,” I said finally, and maybe I should have felt worse about misrepresenting myself, but sometimes you just have to pick your moments, you know? Plus, I was brain tired after that morning’s run-in. “I promise you I’ll be there. I better go. Audrey should be here soon. Have fun with KC.”
There was always a beat as we said goodbye, a hanging silence. Neither of us had said the “L” word yet, and I was fairly sure I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t feeling it yet. Despite Hannah’s insistence to meet her parents, she was just as content to maintain the status quo in our relationship.
To be honest, I was caught most days between being glad to keep things as they were and wondering whether I shouldn’t be feeling something more by now. I liked Hannah; she was beautiful, smart, artistic, strong-willed. She always smelled of rose and cherry and trembled so fucking delicately when she came.
But it wasn’t love.
And I was starting to wonder if it ever would be.
And if it wasn’t, then how much longer would we last?
We hadn’t really discussed the future beyond our short term plans. I knew she was working hard to get a curator job, and while I was settled into my life at the bar, I hadn’t really considered what would come next. Long-term was not really my jam unless you counted my rainy day fund. Hannah had questioned me on it a few times, wondering, “Why save all that money and not have a plan for it?”
My answer, “because I don’t know what I want to do with it yet,” hadn’t really satisfied her.
Our phone call had unsettled me, and it was still sitting badly with me when Audrey’s knock came.
I raced to open the door, relieved to see a friendly face, and I smiled for the first time in hours. “Thank god, I need a drink.”
“Like you’ve ever needed me to do that.”
“It’s called growth, Auds.”
Her bright laughter reverberated throughout the room as she shucked her jacket and arranged herself comfortably on the couch. I brought our drinks over and watched the appreciation on her face when she took her first sip.
“Mmm, this is amazing, Tiff. New menu item?”
“I wish. Our new dictator will probably have something to say about it, though. No, just something I was thinking about today.”
“He was really that bad, huh?”
“I can’t even describe it, Auds. It’s like, on the surface, he’s so smooth and smiley and ‘oh I didn’t get your name’ like he’s come right out of a fucking campaign tour, and then he’s calling me Miss Young and telling me to get in line.”
Audrey’s lips formed a tight line, and her shoulders shook with restrained laughter.
“Oh, fuck you,” I playfully retorted, causing her to openly laugh at me.
“He’s awful, Auds. Got this chip on his shoulder like he knows something everyone else doesn’t, but he plays it so nice, so you can’t actually say anything bad about him. The rest of the staff is practically smitten.”
“Ooh, I’ll have to come around and meet him.”
“Don’t say that like you’re excited. He’s an ass.”
“Noticed, have you?”
“Don’t even start. I have not noticed, and I’m happily taken, thank you.”
“So, things are going well with Hannah, then?” Dammit, I knew she was going to jump on that.
“Yeah, I think so.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t quite managed to disguise my hesitation.
“Everything alright between you two?”
“She’s at KC’s tonight.”
“Oh.” Yes, oh. And here was why I was so glad to have Audrey in my life.
“I’m trying not to worry about it, but every time she spends time with KC, I end up having to apologize for something.” I didn’t typically like airing my problems like this because Hannah and I were adults, and if either of us was having issues in this relationship, we needed to be talking to each other.
But Audrey was my best friend, and now that the can was opened, the worms spilled themselves. “Ok, so. We have mostly been good, and I told you that I’m meeting her parents next weekend,” Audrey nodded, “which I’m excited about. I mean, how could you not love me?” I joked. “Lately, though, Hannah seems to be getting annoyed more often. Things that never got in the way before are suddenly a debate. Maybe it’s just work stress. She’s been putting in lots of hours, and it’s gotten really hard to spend any time together.”
“Maybe. Are you ok?”
“Yeah. Fine. I mean, I’m exhausted, and I have no idea how I’m going to work with this new guy, but yeah.”
“What’s his name anyway?”
“Sam.”
Her eyes sparkled. That couldn’t be good. “Last name Cooper, right?”
Oh, no. No, no, no. “Yeah, why?”
She whipped out her phone, typing quickly, her growing smile making me wonder what shit I was about to wade into. “Oh my god, it is him. I always wondered if there was a relation there.”
“Who.”
* * *
“Tiff, Sam Cooper is like a restauranteur wunderkind.” She cracked out a laugh. “I can’t believe you didn’t know that!”
“I can’t believe you do. This? This is who you know? One year ago, your superstar boyfriend—”
“Fiancé,” Audrey corrected.
“Right, fiancé, walks into my bar and nothing. But this guy. This asshole, you know.”
“Tiff, I work with alcohol on a daily basis; it’s my job to know people like this. Shit, how did you not know Sam Cooper was Harry’s brother?”
“We didn’t really talk about stuff like that.”
“I mean, I hadn’t considered it before because his reputation is huge, you know? He’s been on the west coast for the last nine years, even Vegas, but it makes sense that they’re related. Both of them being in the bar business and all.”
“Ok, I think it’s a bit of a stretch to say that Harry was in the bar business.” I considered the other information she provided. “Vegas, huh? Explains the attitude.” Like a snake charmer in the desert.
“There have been some pretty high-profile pieces done on him. I wonder what made him want to come back?”
“Maybe his ego didn’t fit in the great state anymore.”
“Wow, you really hate this guy.”
“He’s just so …” I grunted in frustration. “Anyway, can we not talk about him anymore? We’re meant to be wedding planning.”
“Oh, god. Between you and Sarah, I swear.” Sarah was Audrey’s sister-in-law-to-be. “I don’t want this wedding to be a big deal. It’s not like I haven’t been married before.”
“Yeah, but at least this time, it’s to the right guy.”
Her smile suddenly got a dreamy quality to it, the way it always did when Jackson was mentioned. “That’s true.”
“Ok. If you’re sick of wedding talk, can we at least start planning your bachelorette? I already know exactly which stripper to get.”
She turned serious. “Tiff.”
“What? It’s a perfectly respectable job, Auds. And Marcus can move. His hips are downright dangerous.”
“I’m not having your ex-lover strip at my bachelorette.”
“You know we’re cool. He’s got a boyfriend now anyway. Or an on-off thing from what he tells me.”
“Still. No exes.”
“Fine. But if we try to avoid all the people I’ve slept with, that isn’t going to leave us with many options.”
“I was thinking of something a little less,” she searched for the word, “raunchy. And a little more relaxed.”
“Ix-nay on the dick straws, then.”
“That was never in question. Also, why do I get the feeling you have those lying around?”
“They’re in case of emergencies.”
The couch practically shook with the force of Audrey’s laughter, and a little of her drink spilled onto the coffee table as she struggled to put her glass down.
I grabbed a Kleenex and cleaned up, then topped up our drinks. “So, something relaxed, ok. I can work with that. Drinks are a must, though.”
“As if I’d want anything else. But I don’t want you working all night. As my maid of honor, I want you to enjoy yourself.”
Taking in her bright, happy demeanor, I couldn’t help but reflect on the shift in her from this time last year. So much had changed for her since meeting Jackson, and here we were talking about her wedding. After her divorce, I hadn’t expected her to want to take that leap again, and certainly not so soon, but I was so glad she had.
And what had really changed for me in that same time?
Barely anything. Would I still be here in another year, life unchanged, while the world revolved around me?
And why did it bother me in a way it never had before?
4
Sam
Passive observation lasted a week until I couldn’t sit by any longer. Considering I’d already been approached by a few local media sites for comments on my return and my subsequent plans for the bar, it was time for me to stop watching and start making changes.
Most importantly, I’d updated the lagging point of sale system. With expedited delivery, the installation wasn’t an issue. The issue was training.
And other words starting with “T.”
It didn’t thrill me to pigeonhole Tiffany as a problem. I liked to believe that people were fundamentally good at their core.
But.
That fact never stopped them from being capable of some incredibly bad things. And Tiffany might be able to get under my skin, but I’d been doing this a hell of a lot longer. I had stamina. Patience. Time.
I could outlast her.
Hell, I’d spent the last nine years dealing with larger-than-life egos. And I had always loved a challenge.
As expected, not everyone had been pleased to come in early to learn the new system. Interestingly, Tiffany and Devon had picked it up quickly and had taken point on getting the others across the line.
Devon was a natural, which I could already see. Harry’s comments about his reliability hadn’t been exaggerated. As he sat across from me in the office, I was pleased with his confident, respectful air.
“I’ve poured over the last two months of sales, and I see an issue.”
“Okay,” Devon said slowly.
“It’s obvious that Tiffany’s one-offs sell well—not a surprise since that appears to be the main draw for customers. How long would you say it takes to make one on any given night?”
He thought for a moment, then offered a half-shrug in response. “For Tiff, a minute or two. For the rest of us, on average, probably five to ten minutes.”
That’s what I expected. And I appreciated that he included himself in that and didn’t call anyone out. He’d definitely make a good manager someday.
I nodded. “As of tonight, I’d like to reduce the more complicated cocktails. Take it down to a single special for the night, and we’ll rotate it each day.”
That much time per drink was fine if you were running a small bar with limited capacity. But my goal was to boost numbers and sales. And you couldn’t do that if you were slowing down serving for a single drink.
“Sure. If that’s what you think is best.”
“Also, explain the ice sculpting to me.” Yesterday, I’d watched in horror as Devon had spent time personally shaping a cube of ice into a smaller cube of ice.
Completely ridiculous.
“Ah. Yeah, that’s a real pain in the ass. It’s just for the look, really.”
Blinking slowly, I let my internal rage subside. Snobs and their aesthetics. It wasn’t Devon’s fault. I could pinpoint very quickly whose idea that must have been.
“In that case, let’s cut it. If we need to, I’ll buy new molds. But in the meantime, I don’t want the team wasting time on chipping ice.”
“Got it, boss.” Devon stood, then paused. “Have you told Tiff about this?”
“I have.” Saying that it hadn’t gone over well was the understatement of understatements.
A sharp laugh escaped him before he quickly turned it into a cough. “That explains some things.”
Watching Tiffany training the team was not a sight I was prepared for. She was both in her element and almost a completely different person. Gone was the competitive opponent, and in her stead was a patient, supportive guide.
I followed Devon out into the bar and stood to the side, observing Tiff. It made sense now why the staff looked up to her beyond just her accolades in the field. She was a natural leader, confident and assured.
It was frustrating in more ways than one because it made it infinitely harder to consider firing her.
It also made it more difficult to stay clear-headed when she went back to treating me with disdain.
When she noticed my observations from the side of the room, she left the two barbacks she’d been supervising and stalked over. “What the hell are you doing?”
And so it began. “Excuse me?”
She stood with her hands on her hips. It had the unfortunate side effect of highlighting her sharp collarbones and the elegant line of her neck.
Neither of which I should be noticing.
I kept my eyes level to hers. “Is there a problem?”
“No. No problem. Just thought it might be weird since they can’t stand each other.” I wasn’t aware that much sarcasm could be expressed in one sentence.
“I’m sure they know better than to let that get in the way of their work.”
She snorted. “Oh, yeah, twenty-year-olds are known for their professionalism in the workplace.”
“I’ll have a word.”
“You do that.”
Finding Nathan first, I asked him to follow me into the office. No need to have this conversation within earshot of the others, though I knew it would likely make the rounds afterward anyway.
“What’s up, boss?”
“I wanted to check that everything is going well?”
“Yeah, of course. New system’s great.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
There was another moment when I wondered whether to push or leave it be.
“Was there anything else?”
“Hmm. I understand there might be an issue with the schedule tonight.”
“Uh, no.”
“There’s nothing I need to know?”
“Nah, boss. It’s all good.”
“Ok, thank you.”
I decided to trust his answer for the time being. It wouldn’t be the first interpersonal conflict I’d had to navigate, but he hadn’t given me any indication that it was going to be a problem, so I’d give them both the benefit of the doubt and wait to see how that night went.
* * *
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Tiffany’s assessment of the situation, but I was also aware that these types of disagreements could be resolved over time. I was also painfully aware that we were not flush with excess staff, so petty squabbles could not always be accommodated.
As opening crept closer, it appeared I’d made the right decision since nothing untoward occurred.