by Lane Martin
“Voila,” Emily offered this time before I started on my own drink that consisted of one part orange juice, two parts ginger beer, and three parts sparkling apple cider. By the look of excitement in her eyes, I knew my sister had no idea the ginger beer wasn’t alcoholic. Jackson slipped a stupid umbrella in my drink as I rounded the bar to take my seat and lift our glasses.
“Cheers,” I chimed as Emily added, “to the Barnes sisters being together again.” I would drink to that; it sounded pretty darn great to me.
“You need to go check out the bar.” Darcy, one of my best servers told me. The frickin’ bar, also known as the bane of my existence. I couldn’t find a good bartender to save my life. Not that Jackson was a good one, he was just helping me out for tonight because Shane decided he wasn’t “feelin’ it.” Luckily for me, New York was an at-will employment state because I told him I was “feelin’ like his ass was fired.”
“What now?” I questioned as I followed an almost giddy Darcy out of the kitchen. What the hell did Jackson screw up this time? I could only imagine what it could’ve been since Darcy looked so amused. What I witnessed happening at my bar nearly knocked me on my ass. For a second I thought she was Emily until I heard a familiar laugh and noticed M, sitting on a bar stool while her twin sister schooled my employee. While they were identical, it was easy to tell them apart. Although Emily had a great rack, Libby’s was without a doubt the best rack I’d ever seen. She wore all black and with her hair up, when she turned I could see she had some ink on the back of the neck. It made me wonder what other art was hidden by her clothes. Emily mentioned something about her sister making her own drink. She popped open a bottle of ginger beer. The fact that she wasn’t drinking made her even more appealing. I’d had my share of dealing with sloppy drunks. I didn’t like them. At work of course. She was talented, and she looked like she was right at home behind that bar, my bar. Libby finished her drink and Jackson slipped a pink paper umbrella into it with a wink. Oh hell no. Fucker had the fortitude to notice me as Emily and Libby toasted to being together again. Did that mean she was staying in New York?
“You’re hired.” I don’t know where the two words came from, but I knew they are right; the only problem was when she turned to face me I didn’t know what job I wanted her for. Fuck, maybe for all of them. I knew Emily was forbidden fruit. The first time I ever laid eyes on her I knew she belonged to Declan, but Libby was ripe for the taking. One way or the other, this Barnes sister would be mine.
“You’re hired,” I don’t know if it was the words or the voice that said them from behind me that got to me the most. I know he only vocalized two of them, but his timber was rich, relaxed, and manly, and fucking sexy as hell. A shiver ran down my spine before I turned to see if the face matched the voice. I wasn’t disappointed.
His dark hair was short and styled like all he did was towel dry it. His ruggedly handsome square jaw was covered in scuff, along with his upper lip. I wanted to know what it would feel like on my skin. Let’s just say it was a good thing I was already pregnant because one look from this guy and I could have gotten knocked up again. I hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. He was wearing a black short sleeve chef coat with his name embroidered over his heart. Logan. Did I mention that his arms were covered in ink? They were beautiful and intricate designs that made you want to get closer so that you could study them, run your finger along the edges. This man had many stories to tell, and I wanted to see and hear every one of them.
“Oh shit,” Jackson mumbled before making himself look busy. Despite the bustling dining room, the bar wasn’t very crowded. Maybe it was because people knew they would never get a table. It could also have had to do with the barkeep. Jackson was a cutie; by he couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. I also knew Swayed was known for its wine list and staff of sommeliers. The wine cellar was probably bigger than the bar itself which was a damn shame.
“Logan, they let you out of the kitchen?” My sister asked the sexy beast of a man approached us with an amused grin on his face. I guessed this was how we were getting a table; they obviously knew each other. My twin had been holding out on me.
“Every once in a while, Emily,” he answered before placing a kiss on my sister's cheek. I envied that cheek. Logan turned his attention to the bartender. “Are we letting patron’s mix their own cocktails now?”
“What? You implied she was hired, so technically she’s an employee.” I nearly choked on my drink when Logan turned his attention towards me. He was even better looking close up. His beautiful brown eyes shone with amusement as he tried not to laugh. He put out his hand and offered, “I’m Logan Wheeler.” What no kiss for me?
“Libby Barnes.” I introduced myself as he took my hand. Interesting, he was a topper. I considered myself an expert handshake reader. His shake was about power, don’t get me wrong. It was subtle as shit, but I didn’t doubt he was in charge. It wasn’t aggressive or forceful, but with his hand facing downward and my palm upward it was clear he was thinking ten steps ahead. As I returned the shake, I rotated our wrists. You’re not the boss of me. The look he gave me in response told me everything I needed to know. Message received. Our hands remained joined for much longer than was necessary.
“Sorry to break up the love fest, but can I get another “perfect” Manhattan?” The server used air quotes as she ordered the drink. Jackson looked at me with pleading eyes. I was a sucker, so I got off my chair and rounded the bar again.
“Isn’t she great?” Emily asked as Logan watched me intently.
“She is.” Once again that shiver ran down my spine. Christ Libby get ahold of yourself. “I thought your sister was in Nashville.”
“She was,” I answered, “I mean I was.” Good job Lib, make yourself look like a complete idiot. “I’m here now.” I turned to the pass with the drink I’d just made to hide my blush.
“How’s your Bloody Mary?” Logan questioned.
“Is this a job interview? I thought you already offered me a position.” I batted my eyelashes at him. What the hell was wrong with me? Flirting with the boss was a sure way to get fired before I ever officially got hired. Logan surprised me by laughing in response. His laugh was almost as sexy as his voice. Almost. Jesus, these pregnancy hormones were making me nuts.
“Are you interested?” Logan inquired. I was interested all right and not just in a job. Bad Libby. My sister silently watched us like we were playing in a heated match at Wimbledon. Her head volleyed back and forth. What exactly was he offering? Stop Libby. It didn’t matter because the minute he found out I was with child all offers would be off the table. Focus Libby. A job here, even if it were over as soon as he found out I was pregnant, would do a lot to help me find another job down the road.
“I guess I am.” I tried to hide my excitement.
“Then make me a Bloody Mary and your signature cocktail.” That I could do. I looked around at the bar. In the chiller they had had several marked bottles, no doubt one was a tomato juice for the very drink I was making. And sure if I had done the prep myself, I wouldn’t have hesitated to use it, but I didn’t. “Do you have a juicer?” I asked.
“Your table’s ready Miss Barnes.” The hostess offered cautiously since her boss was entertaining us in the bar. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. I don’t know who was more disappointed, Logan or my sister. And while I was enjoying myself more than I had in a very long time, I needed to eat too.
“I’ll tell you what, if your sister doesn’t mind, I’ll show you back to the kitchen. You can use the juicer while I fire up some appetizers.”
“I’m fine with that as long as you make me another one of these before you go.” Her caramel apple martini was long gone, so was all the caramel from the edge of the glass. Yeah, my sister was pretty ingenious. All earlier thoughts of licking it off Jackson were erased. Now if only they hadn’t been replaced by the same fantasy with my new potential boss as the star.
Logan had a full restaurant and a bustling
kitchen, yet he took the time to show me where everything I needed was. He even taught me how to use his very fancy juicer. He smelled yummy. How did I know? I couldn’t help myself. When he stepped in front of me to use the machine I took a whiff. I couldn’t put my finger on just one scent he smelled like; it was a hundred of them, baked, roasted, grilled, and sautéed together with the man himself. It wasn’t sexy as much as it was comforting. Now I sounded like a crazy person.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he offered before leaving to “fire” our “apps” Concentrate on the drinks Libby, not that fine piece of ass. I told myself as I watched him walk away. Good lord, the man’s ass was almost as good as his arms. Focus. Besides a beautiful variety of farm fresh tomatoes, I added ginger, Worchester, house made horseradish, and celery seed to my mix, along with a few dashes of my secret weapon I borrowed from one of the dishwashers. Tabasco worked fine, but this was so much better. I returned to the bar to figure out what else to make.
“Tonight has been so much better than sitting in our pj’s eating pints of ice cream.” My sister was finished with her second martini. She was a lightweight when it came to drinking. I needed to get some food in her stat.
“Here drink this.” I offered her a glass of water with a slice of lemon. It would have to do until the food arrived.
“I’d rather have another one of these.” She informed me as she licked the remainder of the caramel off the rim of her glass. Where the hell was Logan with the food?
“Maybe after you eat something.”
“You’re no fun mom.” I couldn’t help but laugh. If only she knew. Logan said to make my specialty. My favorite drinks to mix were the old-fashioned ones. They had a history, a story of their own. If I could open up a place of my own, it would defiantly be fashioned after a speakeasy of the nineteen twenties. Our Pop had some tall tales about his father from back in those days. I think that’s why I was so drawn to it. I missed our Pop.
“Food!” Emily happily cheered when Logan returned with several different appetizers. He sure was spending a lot of time out of his busy kitchen on us. God, it almost smelled as good as he did.
I ran a lemon around the rim of the glass before dipping it in sugar then mixed the cognac, Cointreau, and freshly squeezed lemon juice over crushed iced before straining it into the glass and presenting it to Logan. Then I combined my perfect Bloody Mary mix with the best vodka they had. I made a show of pouring it back and forth over ice several times before pouring it into a glass and adding a garnish. It didn’t need much. The drink stood on its own. Pride filled me when I placed it in front of my interviewer, but to my surprise, he didn’t take a sip of either cocktail.
She was good. Most bartenders would have used the mix we already had behind the bar. Then again, most bartenders would have tried to impress me with some outlandish concoction when I let them make their signature. I should have known Libby Barnes wasn’t like “most”; she was just like her twin, exceptional. She watched me as I stood at the bar with both her cocktails in hand.
“Where’s he going?” Emily asked louder than she typically would have because she was one of Libby’s happy cocktail customers. Darcy delivered the Manhattan to one of our VIP tables earlier. The moment I eyed them in the dining area, I knew they were the perfect taste testers for my new hire. If she passed the Holloway test, she was a shoo-in. My money was on Libby.
“Finally found someone who could make a decent drink.” Craig acknowledged by finishing his cocktail. Craig was an influential judge and a regular customer.
“I’m hopeful, but I was hoping the ladies could be the final judge.” Trudy and Tina Holloway were longtime friends of Judge Thompson; everyone on the island knew them. If Libby could make them happy, she could make anyone happy. “Trudy, if memory serves me, the last time you ordered a Bloody Mary here you called it “bloody murder.” The sisters laughed. That had not been a good night. Thank goodness, I was able to dazzle them with my cooking and a free bottle of outstanding wine. They kept coming back, but the ladies hadn’t ordered anything but the wine since. “And Tina if I recall you are the adventurer who orders the house special.” The two socialites blushed before both taking sips or should I say gulps of the drinks I offered them with my compliments.
Let’s just say, as long as Libby stuck around I didn’t think they’d be ordering wine again.
Besides hanging out with my sister, family meal was becoming my favorite part of my day. I didn’t know if it was the baby growing inside me or the delicious food I’d been eating, but today I’d had to use a rubber band to secure my pants. Thank you, Google for the hack. I wasn’t going be able to hide it much longer.
The closest thing the bars I worked for in the past did to “family meal” were samples with the liquor reps. Not that those weren’t fun, but I was very much enjoying sitting down with my new co-workers, breaking bread, joking, laughing, and talking. But my absolute favorite part was that each day a different member of the kitchen staff was in charge of the meal. Each day it had been something completely different on the menu. The only thing I didn’t love about my new job was sitting in the chair beside me in Logan’s cramped office.
“This is bullshit!” It was the end of my first week at Swayed, and if things didn’t change real quick, it might just be my last. Emily told me all about her past run-ins with the sommelier, Marissa. They didn’t like each other, and that was understandable considering they both had a history with Dicklan, but that didn’t have anything to do with me. If it was only personal, I probably could have handled it, but it wasn’t. While I needed this job, I didn’t need the drama. Drama was Marissa’s middle name, and Logan told me when I started he didn’t do drama either, so it surprised me he put up with her shit. Logan needed to check her before I did. Think of the baby Libby.
“Nice language, but we finally agree on something.” Marissa seethed. She was right, I should start watching my mouth, or my baby’s first word was likely to start with an f and end with a k. When Logan offered me the job, I quickly learned Swayed was owed by Declan Hayes. That explained how my sister knew Logan and how she had no problem getting us a table even though we ended up just eating in the bar. The beauty of the ownership was that thanks to being under the umbrella of Declan’s family’s larger company, Hayes Investment Properties, I received health benefits starting day one. My first prenatal appointment was next week. I’d also learned that besides the restaurant, Declan also owned a business named Snattered Imports. If he hadn’t broken my sister’s heart, I probably would have liked the guy. I mean come on, Snattered was slang for drunk, and the company brokered wine from small wineries all over. It’s hilarious when you think about it. My guess was he also had something to do with the name Swayed. Anyway, because of Snattered, Swayed had a wine list like no other in the city. Hence the need for my arch nemesis and head “wine girl” Marissa. We’d been butting heads since my first day.
“Ladies,” Logan slammed his inked hands down on his desk. I longed to trace each of the intricate designs with my tongue. I wanted to know what other ink was hidden by his sexy as fuck black chef’s jacket. He was brilliant in the kitchen and a genuinely nice guy. It was crazy because, surprise, surprise, I didn’t usually like nice guys. Something was different about Logan; he gave me the tingles. Everywhere. Maybe it was the tattoos that gave him an edge or the look he got on his face when he didn’t think anyone was watching like he was hiding something. It was the same look I saw every time I looked in the mirror. Maybe I was attracted to the mystery. I’d asked my sister about his past, but she told me I’d have to ask Logan myself. I haven’t because if he tells me his story, he might just want to know mine too. I didn’t know what I was afraid of. Women had babies all the time. That’s not true; I knew exactly what I was scared of. Fucking up my own life was one thing, but what if I screwed up my kid?
“Libby? Are you okay?” Concern etched Logan’s handsome face.
“What?” Shit, I got totally distracted by him.
Again. In my first week at Swayed, the tension had grown. Unfortunately, not just between Logan and me. Marissa was about to learn what happened when you messed with the wrong Barnes sister. Despite being a coward and hiding my pregnancy, I was a big girl when it came to dealing with this first-class bitch. The irritated look on Logan’s face now matched the one he gave me yesterday as he backed away from me in the walk-in after nearly kissing me, mumbling something about not crossing the line. I remained in the cooler long after he left. I got it; besides, I wasn't looking for a relationship. Especially not with my boss, been there, done that. No matter how sexy Logan was, my baby was the only thing that mattered now. Tell that to your body. Damn tingles.
“I don’t have time for your little drink girl.” So, I guess she did know about me calling her “wine girl.” At least I wasn’t the booze bitch. I realized some people didn’t like me. Oh well, I was an acquired taste. Taste? How would Logan taste? He looked so yummy. I couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth while Marissa continued her rant. It was nothing I hadn’t already heard. She’d been griping all week. Logan had a small scar on his bottom lip. Like his tattoo’s I wanted to trace it with my fingers and my tongue. I wondered what he would do with his hands as I explored him. He always seemed to be doing something with them. Would he grasp my arms and draw me closer? Would he put them in my hair? Maybe tug at it while he pillaged my mouth with his tongue? His cock would be hard, and I would be drenched when he slipped one finger inside of me before adding a second. Moan.