“You almost done with the top shelf?” Mark asks, sticking his head around the corner. At least I got to work alone up front while he counted the bottles in the stock room.
“Yeah, that actually was the last one,” I reply, setting the clipboard down on the empty well.
“Good. I’m just going to finish up in the morning before we open for lunch. Thanks for the help Greyson.”
I shove the pen behind my ear and slide the clipboard down to where he is standing. Grabbing my cellphone from under the bar, I unlock the screen to look at the time. “Fucking four-thirty,” I grumble while swiping my keys from the shelf and shaking my head. This is the last time I agree to help the old man. “I’m heading out the front. I’ll lock it behind me,” I yell into the darkness.
“Okay,” Mark’s voice echoes down the hallway.
Sliding out the front door, I push the heavy wood door closed and mash my key into the lock. Quickly pulling it out and giving the handle a tug, I turn for my truck and run into a small body.
“Oh shit,” I sputter, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders to steady her frame.
“Sorry, I should have been paying more attention,” Charlie apologizes while awkwardly rearranging the two coffee cups in her hands.
“Ah, you brought me coffee?”
“Nope. It’s for my Uncle Mark. I didn’t know you would be here, too.”
“Rude,” I laugh. My hands are still touching her bare skin, making the heat evident between us. Charlie shrugs her shoulders, instantly breaking the connection between us. Giving a small forced smile, she steps around me and reaches for the door.
“I locked it.”
“Well, can you unlock it for me?” Her tone gives off the hint of irritation, bringing a smile to my already amused face.
“What are you going to do for me?” I question her suggestively. All day I had wondered how far I can push this woman before she livens up a little, and this little problem is the perfect time to start said experiment.
“I won’t punch you in the balls if that is what you are insinuating.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow above her blue eyes, setting off the cutest set of wrinkles that line her forehead.
“Let me take you to dinner?”
“Not going to happen. But, you can open the door for me.”
“It is just dinner, Charlie. Besides, you’re new in town. Let me introduce you to people, show you around the place.” I can’t help but smirk at the irritated woman standing in front of me. Once again, I have to work way harder than I have ever had to before.
“Fine,” she snips, setting the coffee cups down on the ground and pounding her fists on the wooden door.
“Calm down there, killer; don’t hurt yourself,” I snort. Gently pushing her out of the way, I jam the key back into the lock and swiftly open the door.
“Thanks,” Charlie grumbles, grabbing the cups off the floor and scurrying inside the darkened place.
“Where should I pick you up tonight?” I call after her, trying hard to not break out in a fit of laughter.
“Fuck off, Greyson,” she yells back.
Chucking to myself, I close the door and lock it for the second time. Even if she won’t go out with me, at least she has to talk with me. I do believe I’m wearing her down.
Chapter 5
Charlie
I can’t believe how self-absorbed that asshole is. He really thinks that he is God’s gift for the female species; wrapped up in a tight black shirt, low slung jeans, and tattoos that bulge on his muscular arms. Not that I notice his physical attributes, but damn he really pisses me off. I will never understand how women find cockiness attractive. Greyson knows he looks good. Confidence oozes out of his pores, sliming women with his charm and charisma. Most women will probably give their left breast for a night with him, dropping their panties the moment he flashes his devilish smile in their direction. And that is the problem with society nowadays. There is no longer any emphasis on a person’s mind. Everything is so focused on their outward appearance, that they can be a raving dick and women pine over them without any hesitation. Men like Greyson do not date. They take women out, show the catch of the night off, and then bring ‘em’ back to wherever and rock their world for one single night. I doubt if he even remembers their name the next morning.
“What are you doing here, Charlie?” Uncle Mark calls out as I appear in the doorway of the stock room.
“Coffee?” Holding out the tall paper cup, I offer a tight smile with a shrug of my shoulders. Truth be told I really didn’t want to sit in his house alone. For some reason I didn’t want to sit in the dark, quiet house alone anymore. Being there only reminded me of what my future has in store for me, being alone forever.
“Thanks,” he replies while reaching out and grabbing the coffee from my outstretched hand. “What’s on your mind, Charlie?”
“Oh nothing. Just ran into Greyson on the way in and for some reason he wants to have dinner with me tonight.” Uncle Mark shakes his head and gestures for me to walk back into his office.
“Charlie, Greyson is not someone you want to be dating.”
“Don’t worry about me, Uncle Mark. I told the man no several times.”
“He’s a great man to have around, but monogamy is not really his thing. I can count on Greyson for just about anything, but that man leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he may go.” Uncle Mark picks up his keys off the desk and reaches over to shut off the desk light.
“I’m glad you trust him, because I think he is an arrogant prick.” Laughing to myself, I flip the light switch on the wall, and head out into the hallway.
“Want to ride with me this morning? We can always come back for your car later this afternoon.”
“I parked out front. Is it going to be okay out there?” Biting the inside of my lip, I silently bounce the idea of riding back to the house with Uncle Mark. Normally, I hate going anywhere without a vehicle. It has always been an easy escape route if I need it, thus eliminating relying on someone for any sort of transportation.
“Nothing will happen to the car, Charlie. Besides, we have security cameras out front that record twenty-four hours a day. Come on,” he beckons, nodding his head toward the back door of the place. I nod my head stiffly while biting the inside of my cheek. Why I am having so much anxiety over a stupid thing like a ride is something that my body is never going to get used to. Gone are the carefree days of my younger years, leaving this self-doubting, insanity driven, sober shell of a woman.
“Did you find a job today?” Uncle Mark questions as we drive down the quiet empty streets.
“Not really. It seems that no one is hiring now that all the college students are back in town.” I tip back the remainder of my coffee, and instantly wish there was more in the large cup.
“My offer is still open. I can use the help stocking and cocktail serving most nights if you are interested.” Uncle Mark glances over and offers a genuine smile. Forcing a smile in return, I quickly shift my gaze out the truck window. Looking at this man sometimes really makes me miss my mom. They have so many of the same characteristics and mannerisms that my heart seems to break a little more each time he smiles. “How about you try it out for a couple days? If you want, you can come in tonight around four and help get the bar ready before the evening crowd comes in. I doubt it will be very busy with classes starting tomorrow.”
Since I not going to school, I need to hold down a job. And since everyone in this town has no openings for anything that I qualify for, taking Uncle Mark up on his offer might be my only chance anytime soon. “I guess I can do that,” I mumble, still keeping my gaze focused at the houses passing us by.
“Great, Charlie,” Uncle Mark gushes just as we turn into the small driveway of his house. “Now, go inside and get some sleep.”
“I think I’m going to go for a run.” Clambering out of the truck, I scurry for the backdoor and stuff my key into the lock. There is no way I am getting any sleep with my mind doing laps
in my head and the massive amount of coffee I had ingested earlier.
“Alright, silly girl, just make sure you get a nap in before work tonight.”
I nod my head and disappear down the hallway for the bedroom. Shutting the door quickly, I start tossing more items out of the suitcases, searching for a pair of my running shoes.
Throwing on some shorts and a plain white tank top, I grab my phone and ear buds and quietly sneak down the hallway. Taking the house key off the ring, I slide it into my sock and scroll through my phone for the perfect playlist. Sam is always updating my phone with the latest music trends, since I apparently have no music taste as she kindly reminded me all the time.
Making a mental note to send her a text later this morning, I open the door and step out into the cool morning air. Using the steps to stretch out, I stop and glance down the street in both directions. I know the beach is only a few blocks south of the house, and the main shopping area is a mile or two to the north. Unsure of where I should run to, I decide that the beach would hopefully be a little less crowded at five in the morning.
Starting out slowly, I pick up the pace after a few blocks, letting my feet pound into the pavement while the music blares into my ears. The light fog over the ocean is just starting to burn off with the morning light as I carefully take the steps down the sandy beach. Stopping at the bottom step, I take a deep breath in and admire the quiet, serene setting. Without giving it much though, I take off in a brisk jog down the beach, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the sand being tossed into my running shoes.
The resistance feels good against my calves as I have to work a little harder at getting my feet picked up off the ground with each stride. Running on pavement is one thing, but having this beach workout this morning is a whole new ballgame. After making it a mile or two down the empty coastline, I force myself to stop and catch my breath for a second. I know soon I should be turning around, since I am going to have to run back the way I came in order to get back to Uncle Mark’s house, but the thought of being able to run forever without any boundaries on the beach has my heart doing flip-flops in excitement.
“Good morning,” a voice from behind startles me.
Whipping my head around, I see a tall man walking over in my direction. My breathing begins to pick up as the man gets closer. Social interaction has never been a positive quality of mine, well, except when I was drinking all the time.
“Great weather this morning,” the gentleman states as he stops right next to me. I nod my head in silence, pursing my lips tightly together.
“The name’s William, but everyone calls me Will.”
“Charlie,” my voice suddenly wavers, forcing a smile across my face.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie. How long have you been in town?”
Small talk has never been my thing. I really have no desire to make nice with this man. All I want to do is turn around and take off running again, avoiding this situation like the plague. “I got here a couple days ago,” my mouth blurts out before my feet have an option of moving.
“School?”
“Nope,” I stammer, forcing myself to stand my ground and act like a civil human being.
“Oh you look young; I guess I just assumed you were a student.” Will flashes a brilliant white smile that could almost blind you if staring at him directly. His short hair has just enough mess to the top to give off the carefree, just rolled out of bed type vibe that pairs well with his boy next door kind of charm. “I’m a professor over at the college,” he offers up.
“You look young,” I blurt out quickly, instantly sending regret rocketing through my body.
“Touché, Charlie.” He chuckles, giving me a small smirk and taking off down the beach. “It was nice to meet you, Charlie.”
“Thanks,” I holler back as he picks up his pace down the beach. Thanks? Can I get any more socially awkward? I shake my head at the idiotic response I had given, and turn around to head back to the house. It is situations like this that make me miss the booze. How easy it was to turn off reality and drink my cares away. Dealing with life sober has yet to show me the advantages of living an easier life; but being sober sure as hell beat being in jail or rehab.
The alarm blares from my phone a little after two, giving me plenty of time to get ready before heading to the bar. Not that I need a whole two hours to put myself together, but it helps when I have a little more time to prepare myself for social interaction. It isn’t that I hate people, okay, who in the hell am I trying to lie to. People require attention, and unfortunately I basically suck at caring. I tried to have a small houseplant during the second phase of my joyful rehab stay. Providing care for something that relied on me for its survival was meant to spark some sort of compassion in myself. The damn fern died in a whopping sixteen days before it decided to kick the bucket on me. The counselors decided to call it a life lesson; that if I didn’t put time and energy into something, then how was I ever going to grow as a person? I still think the damn thing had a death wish. And, I really didn’t care if the plant lived or died at that point anyhow.
Grabbing an old Black Sabbath concert t-shirt and a pair of light washed worn jeans, I toss on the clothes and braid my hair loosely to the side. Smearing some chap stick over my lips, I slide my feet into my favorite black chucks and let out a little sigh. Tonight made me nervous. I have never held a job before, and starting out in a place like a bar, being a recovering alcoholic, does not seem like the best start for moving forward. Then again, what other options do I have?
“How’s it going?” Uncle Mark stops in the doorway of the stock room, offering me a genuine smile.
“It’s going,” I ramble back. It isn’t rocket science filling the wells behind the bar. All that it requires is the ability to read labels, count to twenty-five, and hauling the large black tub back and forth until the job gets done.
“When you get done with the front, come into the office and fill out some forms to make it official for payroll.”
“Okay.” Gripping the tub tightly, I situate it on the side of my hip and head for the front for the seventh time in the last half hour.
“Hi, I’m Jessica,” a tall blonde greets me with a smile as I round the short corner.
“Hi,” I reply, startled, forcing a tight smile across my lips.
“You must be Charlie, Mark’s niece?”
“Yep.” Placing the bin on the concrete counter, I quickly start unloading the container, hoping Jessica will get the hint that I’m not into socializing this afternoon. Really, when am I ever into talking to someone? If friendship is required for personal growth, then I have a feeling failure is probable.
“So, how do you like the bay?” Jessica pulls herself up on the counter next to me, apparently oblivious to my not wanting to talk short word answers.
“You guys have great weather,” I manage to stutter out. I try to focus on getting the rest of the bottles into the ice quickly, but the tapping of Jessica’s nails on the counters slow my groove I have developed. I bet she thinks pretty highly of herself. The platinum blonde hair that stops sharply below her jawline extenuates the high cheekbones and bright pink lips she is spouting. Her pale blue eyes are lined with the perfect amount of black kohl, giving her just the right amount of sexy without being slutty. Even her clothing is effortless, giving her the approachable vibe if you dared to take the chance and talk with the woman.
“You should have been here earlier in the summer. I don’t think there is anything better than stepping out in a bikini on a hot day at the beach. Now, all we have to look forward to is clouds, fog, and sweaters.”
Snorting, I crack a genuine smile at the thought of her deeply tanned skin fading away in the next couple of months.
“Are you working tonight?”
“Yeah. Just for a little while.” Wiping my hands off on the back of my jeans, I hoist the empty bin off the counter and quickly wipe off the water spots with the towel stuffed in my pocket. People like Jessica and I
have nothing in common, so why force the conversation between us any longer. Grabbing the bin I had propped up on my leg, I scurry out from behind the bar and duck into the dark hallway.
“I’ll see you later tonight,” I hear her call after me as I duck into my uncle’s office. Avoiding people has become my specialty; however, I think it’s going to be harder than I thought working here.
“How are you doing out here?” Uncle Mark asks as I pass by his office again for the supply room. How this bar went through so much beer in only two hours has got to be a record somewhere.
“Good, just didn’t expect it to be this busy.” Letting the bin fall to the floor, I yank open a large cooler and start filling it up again, for the twentieth time today.
“It’s actually pretty tame tonight. Wait until next weekend after the first official week of school is finished. Which reminds me, we need to go over your schedule for the next two weeks.” Uncle Mark grabs a couple bottles and helps fill up the bucket.
Pain surges through my body when he flashes me a smile. He reminds me so much of my mother. Why I ever thought coming here would be a good idea was mind boggling. It was nice to be around family, and having him is almost like having a portion of my mom back, but I don’t know if my broken heart can deal with it as it tries to heal and move on.
“If you want to take off, go ahead and clock out for the night. There is no reason to burn yourself out on the first night of the job. Besides, I’m sure you could use a little more time to settle into the house.”
“Thanks, Uncle Mark.” Smiling, I close the cooler and bend over to grab the tub.
“I said clock out, Charlie.” Uncle Mark grabs the container from the ground and bumps into my shoulder before leaving the stock room.
Bar 49 Page 4