by Soraya May
And this is just the start of the evening. Turning, I waved apologetically at an approaching patron in what I hoped was a sorry-we’ll-take-your-order-in-just-a-moment gesture and set off at a run for the stairs. If I could get the pint glasses down for Bob, that’d give me a breathing space to get those drinks done, and then maybe—”
“Hey, can I help?” Halfway up the stairs, I saw Ryan at the top.
I shook my head. “It’s okay, thanks. Just really busy. I need those glasses in the store-room.”
He turned and walked with me along the narrow corridor. “C’mon, I’ll give you a hand to carry them down. It’ll be quicker with the two of us.”
I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Each carrying a tray of glasses, we descended the staircase just as the scrawny singer-songwriter who was first up on stage for the night struck the opening chords of a song on his guitar. About half the crowd were paying attention to him, but for those who noticed, the arrival of the trays of beer glasses seemed to produce more of a cheer.
“Man.” Ryan slotted the glasses in under the counter, next to the beleaguered Bob, who nodded gratefully and grabbed four of them. “It’s seriously busy down here.”
“Uh-huh.” I went to wipe my brow again, but stopped myself just in time. “Earnings will be great if we can survive it, which is touch-and-go at this point.” I slipped past Ryan and went back to the customers waiting at the bar. “Sorry to make you wait, guys. Now, it was two Cosmos and a Long Island, right?”
As I sliced limes with one hand, and poured cranberry juice with the other, I felt Ryan standing behind me. Resisting the urge to grind back into him—not in front of everyone, Cat—I moved out of the way to let him past, but he didn’t go anywhere.
“Hey, let me help.” His voice was low, but insistent.
I sighed. “Thanks, but honestly, we’ll cope.”
“Cat, don’t be crazy. You and Bob are getting slammed here, and if you want this to be a success, you’re at least a man short.”
I carefully ignored the innuendo and fished ice out of the bucket. Did he mean it that way? “I don’t have time to train you to do stuff.”
“Well, guess what?” Ryan coughed not-very-modestly. “Turns out the other vacation job I had was working in a bar. So I’m not a complete beginner. Just tell me where things are, and I’ll manage.”
I was doubtful. Is this a good idea? What happens if he screws something up? I felt his hand on my shoulder, and tried not to shiver again.
“Come on, Cat. You need help, and I’d really like to do something to thank you for…taking me in.” He looked at me steadily. He really does mean it. “I know I’ve messed up your life, and I’m grateful for your understanding, okay? I’d like to do something to even the score, and maybe improve your opinion of me a little.”
I glanced over at Bob, passing out pints as fast as he could fill them. As I did, one of them slid perilously close to the edge of the bar.
Eeegh. If we keep going at this rate we’re going to make mistakes anyway.
“Okay, let’s give it a shot. You man the bar station here, and I’ll work the tables.” Slamming a cocktail shaker down on the bar-top, I filled it with more ice, screwed the top on and shook it as fast as I could. Sorry people, this ain’t gonna be the best Cosmo I’ve ever made, but it’ll do.
Ryan stood back. “Okay. Have you got an apron or something?”
“Second shelf down next to the sink. Now, here’s your induction, so pay attention. Ice is down there. Glasses go here, dirty ones over there. Trash is in that hole. Don’t use the hot tap because it’s broken. Oh, and sometimes the soda dispenser gets stuck and you have to give it a whack to make it go again. That’s it.”
He saluted. “Aye aye, Captain. Thanks for trusting me.”
“Thanks for helping.” I let out a breath. In front of me, the music swelled, and the crowd pushed forward toward the stage. The singer might have been a bit scrawny, but he had a pretty good voice, and the crowd were warming to him. “Just do the best you can, okay? If you need help, come and ask me or Bob.”
“Will do.” Ryan clapped his hands together, looked up and caught the attention of a customer. “Evening, guys. What can I get you?”
As I worked, I snatched a few moments when I could to watch Ryan, and I had to admit I was impressed. He was good with customers, laughing and joking with them as he worked fast and efficiently, mixing cocktails, cleaning the bar, and on one occasion catching a rather drunk girl’s wine-glass as she knocked it off the bar-top, and before it hit the floor, without spilling a drop.
“W-wow,” the girl slurred, looking at Ryan adoringly. “You’re really good at thish, you know tha’? Good with your hands, I mean.” She batted her eyelashes at him heavily.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Ryan cocked his head. “All part of the service. Now, perhaps I could get you a soda water. Or maybe a Coke?”
I was busy myself, running back and forth to tables with drinks, and keeping both Bob and Ryan stocked with supplies, but having him working alongside eased the pressure. The queues of customers waiting for drinks got shorter, and the influx of cash into the register increased significantly. Pretty soon, Ryan had a crowd of female admirers who made a beeline for him when they came up to order drinks; I was alarmed to realize I was feeling a tiny flicker of jealousy, but it got easier to handle when I saw the amount of money they were tipping him.
“Hey, Cat!” Jack Collis, the taxi-driver was at the bar, bald head gleaming in the lights from the stage. “Looks like you’ve got a new employee.” He gestured to Ryan, who was wielding a shaker theatrically for a group of admiring women.
“Evening, Jack.” I nodded. “Yeah, he’s just on for the night. He’s actually doing really well. Can I get you a beer?”
“Absolutely.” Grasping the pint glass I slid to him, he looked around. “Busy tonight. The music thing’s going really well, huh?”
The first act had gone off, to now-enthusiastic applause, and after playing two encores, and the second one was setting up. The break in between acts had brought a new rush of people to the bar wanting to refill their drinks before the next one.
“Yeah, I’m really glad people are enjoying it.” When I’d bought the place, I had dreamed of doing something with it that would encourage people to come in for more than just drinks. I’d wanted it to become a social spot as much as a bar, and with the music events, I felt like I was finally achieving it.
Ryan slipped past behind me, ice-bucket in hand. “Behind you! Hey, Jack.” He nodded to the taxi-driver. “Looks like I’m going to have to serve you that beer as well as buy it for you. Man, this is a tough town.”
“Ryan! Good to see you.” Jack’s cheerful nature made most people warm to him quickly, and Ryan evidently liked the older man.
“Evening, boys.” Behind Jack, Nick Vette approached, clapping the older man on the shoulder and smiling at me. “Hi, Cat. This is really great; I’m so pleased it’s worked out for you.”
“Thanks, Nick. Do you guys know each other? Nick, this is Ryan.”
Ryan came back past me, and waved. “Hey man, good to see you again. Can I get you a beer as well? Jack, you want another? On me.”
“Sounds good; I’ll have whatever you suggest.” Slim and fair-haired, Nick was shorter than Ryan, but he moved easily, with a wiry strength. Ryan pushed two pints across to the men, while I sluiced glasses with one hand, and attempted to crush mint with the other.
“What do you do, Nick? You said you were a teacher?” Ryan started pulling two more pints as he talked.
“Yep. Elementary school, although I teach some community college classes as well; self-defense and stuff.” Nick took a long swallow of his beer, nodding as he did so. “Damn, that’s good; it’s been a long week.”
“But you grew up here in Cable Bay, right?” Beer flowed into more glasses; Ryan’s ability to make cheerful conversation while he worked at speed was impressive.
He really is good at this.
Shame he didn’t go into hospitality instead of archaeology.
“I did, then I went away to train as a teacher. I always wanted to come back here and settle, so when the job came up, I jumped at it.”
Jack leaned forward and shook his finger at Nick. “Aren’t you supposed to be setting a good example for students, instead of drinking in the pub?”
“Screw you, Collis.” Nick was unmoved. “One, it’s a Saturday night and even teachers get weekends. Two, I’m here for the music. Three, sometimes the students are why I’m drinking in the pub.”
Ryan leaned on the bar momentarily, grinning at them. “Dude, that’s profound. Cable Bay is indeed fortunate to have a man of your wisdom in charge of the next generation of young minds.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Nick picked up his beer. “Come on, Jack; these guys are busy, and we should let them work.”
Jack nodded. “You’re right, Obi-Wan. Have a good evening, Ryan, and don’t let the boss—” he jokingly indicated me, “ride you too hard.”
I flicked a towel at him. “Get out of here, you two. Go on and drink your beer, and stop fomenting labor trouble among my staff.”
The evening wound on, and we worked steadily, pausing occasionally to watch one of the musicians or exchange a few words with a local about how well everything was going. We moved around each other with an easy familiarity, touching each other on the shoulder or on the hip to let the other know they were there, and tossing things back and forth to each other across the narrow space.
Ryan was a continuing hit with the customers, I realized, and not just the female ones; he talked with the guys, defused the odd noisy disagreement by throwing in a joke, and all the while, kept working, cheerful and durable. Now and again, he would make eye contact with me, and smile. This time it wasn’t the half-amused I’m-pretty-and-I-know-it smile. Oh no, this was much worse. This was warm and genuine, the smile of someone who was on your team and encouraging you to keep going, telling you that he had your back. Somehow, that made it even harder not to think about him kissing me again.
No. He’s a good teammate, that’s all. What would it be like to have him here all the time? Dammit, not now.
I looked up at the two short ladies approaching the bar, blue rinse shining in the reflected gleam of the stage lights, clutching their knitting.
“Two more glasses of Farrah’s rosé, my dear.” Harriet and Matilda were devoted customers, and often spent most of Saturday afternoon ensconced in one of the booths, working their way determinedly through a significant amount of Foxworthy Vineyard’s finest, and knitting something undefinable. I’d always secretly wanted to ask what the hell it was they were knitting, but thought it would be rude after six months of them coming here.
“Coming right up, ladies. I hope the music isn’t disturbing you?”
Harriet shook her head with a movement best described as ferocious. “No way. The Knitting Circle meets every week, no matter what. We’re not letting a bunch of musicians put us off.” She somehow managed to pronounce the capital ‘K’ and ‘C’.
I couldn’t help smiling as I poured the wine. “Can it really still be a circle when there’s only two of you?”
“Yeah, yeah. Semantics. We’re on a recruiting drive.” Matilda slapped down some cash on the bar with a forcible thump. “Keep the change, my dear.” They tottered back to their booth, needles already moving.
“Hey, Cat!” Ryan was in front of me again. “Have we got any more limes? We’re running low.”
“Shit. Maybe in the freezer we’ve got some preserved lime juice? It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do. I’ll check; you stay here.”
As I returned with the lime juice, I could see a group of girls trying to pull Ryan onto the dance floor, tugging at his apron. He fended them off with a smile, and they departed disappointed.
“Here’s the lime juice. Looks like you’re popular with the girls.” I tried not to sound envious.
He shrugged. “If you’re a male bartender, sometimes it’s like being the only wildebeest at the watering hole when a pride of lions turns up. It’s not really you as a person they’re interested in. Besides, I’ve got a prior commitment.” He turned to me. “Not going to abandon my boss when she’s in her hour of need, am I? ‘Course, if you ordered me to dance, I’d dance.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you would, would you? I didn’t know I had that much authority.”
“Absolutely; once I give myself to a job, it’s one hundred percent commitment. Mind you, you’d have to dance with me.”
“Oh, now you’re expecting me to dance as well?” I shook my head emphatically. “Not dancing, nohow. Besides, I’m not sure you could handle quite that much style and rhythm in one package.”
Ryan pushed another couple of drinks across the bar to waiting customers and winked at me. For some reason I couldn’t quite place, it worked better this time. “Try me. You might find I’m full of surprises.”
As the last customers stumbled out the door, I looked around the tables. It actually isn’t as much of a disaster zone as I’d feared it would be. Gently extricating a couple of glasses from tipsy patrons as they made their way outside, we surveyed the scene.
“Are they all going to be okay?” Ryan was beside me, wiping down the bar-top with a cloth. Bob, clearly exhausted, slumped at one of the tables.
“Yeah, I think so.” I’d seen a number of sober drivers throughout the evening, and our policy of free soft drinks for the designated driver had meant there was never really a shortage of people willing to drive, especially young people who were periodically short on money. If you didn’t have money for beer, a free evening of music just for the price of a tank of gas was a pretty good deal. “I didn’t see anyone who didn’t either have someone to drive them home, or lived within walking distance, anyway.”
“Good. So, boss,” Ryan bowed ostentatiously, “whaddya think? How did I go on my first night?”
“As much as I hate to give you another reason to be pleased with yourself,” I frowned at him, “yeah, you did. We wouldn’t have coped without you.”
Ryan made a fist and punched the air. “Yes!”
“But, don’t go getting ideas. You’re still paying me for that room, remember?” I said it with a smile, and Ryan rolled his eyes at me.
“Man, talk about labor exploitation. This is shocking. Hey, Bob, how are you doing?” He called across to where the older man sat, both hands on the table.
“Okay, man. Pretty tiring night though.” Bob’s face was drawn, and his eyelids drooping. “Hold on, I’ll get to sweeping the floor.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. You should go on home before you fall asleep right there.”
“Are you sure, Cat? I don’t want you to have to do it all.” Bob struggled to his feet, but I cut him off, gently propelling him toward the door.
“No way. You’re out on your feet, and despite what the rest of the employees claim—” I jerked my head at Ryan, who rolled his eyes again, “I am a caring boss. Can you make it home alright?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thanks, Cat.” Bob disappeared out the door and into the night, evidently glad to be done. As he left, Ryan finished wiping down the bar, and tossed the damp cloth into the laundry bag sitting by the foot of the stairs. He turned, and saw me watching him.
“So, are you happy with how things turned out?” He walked toward me, and leaned against the bar.
“Definitely. I think that was our biggest night yet. Although,” I stretched, painfully, “I’m glad it’s over, that’s for sure. Look, thanks again for helping out.”
He smiled, warm and unfeigned. “Actually, it was a lot of fun, being part of a team again. My work is usually pretty solitary, but I’d forgotten how good it was to have someone backing you up. I’ll be a little sorry when I’m back down in the basement on my own tomorrow.”
“Backing you up? I nearly backed into you a couple of times.”
Another
smile, this one a little more arch. “I wouldn’t have minded that.”
Mmmm. I felt a sudden tingling, but I tried to ignore it.
I am Miss Restraint. I am not thinking about what I am thinking about right now. “Looked like those girls were pretty keen for you to back into them. Or something.”
“Ha. Well, it’s nice to be appreciated, but like I said; wildebeest, watering hole, lions. I try not to let it go to my head. Besides,” he inclined his head, “the boss would have killed me.”
“She might at that. Now,” I turned to the bar, “can the boss offer you a drink? High though her standards are, you’ve earned it.”
Ryan took a seat at the bar. “She can indeed, but I insist that she has one with me. I watched her work her ass off tonight, and I must say I was impressed.”
“Why, thank you. Rye and dry?”
“Great.”
As the last of the ice clattered into two tumblers, I looked at Ryan, elbows propped on the bar, looking out the window. He was tired and sweaty, but he had the satisfied glow of someone who’s done a day’s worth of hard work, and come out the other side. I guess he wasn’t just being polite when he said he enjoyed it.
“Here you go; rye and dry.”
“Thanks, boss. Your health.” As our glasses clinked together, I leaned into him. He smelled of cologne and rye, and I couldn’t help but enjoy this little moment of closeness.
“You know, Dr. Sanders, you’re quite the renaissance man. Tending bar, woodwork, helping elderly ladies; it’s a surprise you don’t wear your underwear on the outside and sport a cape.”
“Huh. I’m not sure if even I could carry that off. But your vote of confidence is noted; if I contemplate a career change to superhero, I’ll come to you for support. Besides,” Ryan took a sip from his glass, and licked his lips, “you’re not so bad yourself; what was it you said about style and rhythm in one package?”
“Well, that was my dancing. Which you haven’t seen.”
“There’s no time like the present.” He gestured to the floor in front of the stage.