A Bar Tender Tale

by Melanie Tushmore

  Gary swung open the pub door looking very much the worse for wear. Either he’d been crying, which was unlikely for Gary, or he was coming down with something.

  “What’s up with you, Gaz?”

  Gary was still staring back at him. “I haven’t slept!” Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that usually a good thing?”

  “No!” Gary said, retreating back into the pub.

  Concerned, Nathan followed, closing the door behind him. Gary had been in the process of getting the pub ready for opening, but Nathan could see half-finished jobs everywhere he looked.

  “Come on, then; let’s hear it,” he told Gary as he hopped onto a bar stool to finish off his crepe.

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  “I shagged this girl,” Gary began, while Nathan grinned.

  “But afterwards, she would not shut up!” Nathan had to spit out his mouthful of crepe so he could laugh.

  “I’m serious!” Gary complained. “I kept saying, 'I’ve got to go to work in the morning,' but she kept talking! I’ve never known anything like it.”

  “And why,” Nathan asked, still snickering, “did you not just leave? I assume you went to her place?”

  “I didn’t want to be rude!” Gary wrung his hands through his hair. “And I do want to shag her again….”

  “You’re kidding, right? Who was it?”

  “Susie. Blonde hair.” Gary cupped his hands in front of his own broad chest as he said, “She’s got massive knockers.

  You know her?”

  “Er, no. Can’t say I pay much attention to boobs, mate.

  Apart from you. Hah!”

  Gary groaned. “I’m so tired! I maybe got an hour or two tops, and then I had to come here.”

  Nathan looked around at the dark, empty pub. “Well, no offense, but why are you bothering? It’s hardly like anyone’s gonna break your door down. Just nip up to bed and catch a few extra.”

  Everyone knew that Gary lived upstairs on his own. The pub was so quiet, along with most of the pub trade recently, that the area manager insisted Gary was the only live-in staff.

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  “I can’t,” Gary sighed. “My boss keeps doing spot checks, driving past on his way round town. If I’m not open, he’ll go mental.”

  The way Gary said “mental” in his Welsh accent was so cute.

  Nathan sighed to himself before offering, “Well, seeing as I’ve got nothing else to do for a couple of hours, why don’t I open up and you catch some sleep?”

  Gary’s desperate eyes homed in on him, not daring to believe it was a real offer. Nathan tried not to laugh at the state of the man.

  “Really?” Gary whispered.

  “Yes, really,” Nathan said. “I was only gonna go into town on my own. It can wait a bit. You owe me, though!”

  “Oh, thank you!” Gary was elated. “I don’t know what to say! Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sure. Now get upstairs.”

  “Do you think you can manage—”

  Nathan got up and pushed Gary through the staff door at the end of the bar. “God, I know my way around a bar. I’m sure I’ll cope. Besides, no one’s gonna come in this early, are they? You only get, like, two customers in the evening at the best of times!”

  “True.” Gary nodded, finally relenting and dragging himself upstairs. “Sometimes you get the people in suits from court over the road….”

  “Yeah, no worries!” Nathan called up.

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  “Oh, and my friend might drop in!” Gary was saying, though Nathan could barely hear him.

  “No worries,” Nathan repeated, shutting the staff door and getting to work. He was alone in the pub on a bright sunny day. Damn his good intentions.

  Still, Gary was a friend. He’d been one of the first friends Nathan made when he moved to Brighton, working together behind a bar. Nathan liked Gary a lot, not only because he was a good guy, but also because when he got drunk he would take off his shirt and flex his biceps. If Gary was very drunk he would let you feel them too. Who didn’t want a friend like that?

  Nathan sighed. A friend was a friend. But first things first. He unwound a wire from his pocket and hooked up his music player to the pub’s stereo. If he was gonna work here for free today, he’d be listening to his own music. He wasn’t worried about waking Gary, it was a tall building, and Gary’s bedroom wasn’t the floor directly above the pub, but the one above that. Luckily the pub’s stereo system was powerful enough to sound good even at a low volume. Nathan shuffled his music selection onto random and began to ready the pub.

  He’d never worked here, but he’d worked in a lot of pubs. This set up was relatively simple. The Jury’s Verdict wasn’t much bigger than his bedsit, to be honest. It smelled a bit musty, as old pubs did. Nathan opened the windows and then the door, propping it open with the traditional sandwich board. It was then he noticed the chalk drawing in pink of a crudely drawn cock with the words, “Get hot man love here all night! Ask for Gaz!”

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  Smiling, Nathan got a cloth and wiped it off. No doubt one of Gary’s drunk mates had scrawled that. Grabbing up the chalk, Nathan paused as he thought about what to write.

  He didn’t want to get Gary in trouble, so it had to be safe. He settled for, “Open, ready, and willing! Food served.” Then he dusted his hands and went back inside to finish setting up.

  “Food served” was an exaggeration. Gary had done a deal with the Indian takeaway next door; he had a few copies of their menu, and they delivered whatever was ordered straight into the pub. The smells from there made Nathan hungry. Exotic spices, naan bread baking with cheese….

  If he thought about it too much, his stomach would lead him there.

  Seeing as he’d already had a whole box of pastries and a crepe all before 11 a.m., he thought he should probably skip lunch. Nathan had always been skinny, but the sad reality of being over twenty-one meant that he couldn’t eat what he wanted all the time, especially when all he wanted was naughty food.

  AFTER having been open an hour with only one customer, a little old man in the corner, Nathan was bored. He was also dying to eat; the delicious scents from the Indian next door were just too tempting. But he had a plan, and he hoped the results would be doubly bountiful: he was going to clean the place from top to bottom. Behind the bar was a pigsty. Gary had obviously been getting slack. So not only would Gary be A Bar Tender Tale | Melanie Tushmore 19

  pleased enough that he’d allow Nathan to touch his biceps, but all that work would have burned off enough calories to cancel out a chicken balti and a peshwari naan.

  Right?

  Nathan decided to do it regardless. There was a funky smell coming from one of the pumps on the bar, and it was interfering with the pleasant food smells from next door. He cleaned hard, working up a sweat. It was hot behind this bar, same as any other, from the myriad fridges and cooling devices pumping out warm air all day. It was an old bar too, stuffy and cramped.

  Still, he did himself proud. After the amount of cleaning and sorting he'd done, Gary would owe him a striptease!

  Nathan wiped his brow, then ran next door to order his Indian lunch. He knew it was naughty to leave the pub unattended, but the till was locked, and the only customer he’d had was still asleep in the corner. Nathan was a maximum of two minutes, paying and rushing back the three steps into the pub, rubbing his hands with glee at the prospect of food. He checked his phone again only to see that none of his friends were awake yet or they were all ignoring his plea for company.

  Oh well. Midday was early if you did bar work.

  However, to the rest of the world, it was lunchtime. With a sinking feeling Nathan watched a gaggle of people emerge from the courthouse across the main road, looking both ways for a chance to cross.

  Don’t you dare come in here.

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  A few of them hung around the court, lighting up cigarettes. Most of them continued down the hill to walk into town. Annoyingly, a handful of them came into the pub at the same time Nathan’s lunch arrived. Plastering on a smile while swearing inside, Nathan served the customers, hoping for quick and easy drinks. They were all dressed up in smart suits, so were likely over there for court appearances.

  Nathan wondered about the possibility of these people having interesting cases, but it was doubtful. He knew it wasn’t a crown court, so they were probably just parking tickets or something equally boring.

  He whipped up their drinks in record time, used to working behind a busy, modern bar. Also, he wanted his lunch, dammit.

  A middle-aged couple were the last to be served, and they ordered Bloody Marys. Nathan cursed silently and frowned as he searched through the stocks of liquor and mixers. He couldn’t find where the Tabasco sauce was hiding.

  He turned back to the bar ready to tell the couple

  “Sorry, pick something else” when in walked the hottest, most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Nathan loved tall men, but tall and broad? What a treat! This one was in a suit, as were most of the other lunchtime customers, which made it hard to judge exactly how broad he might be under that suit jacket. Nathan tucked that little thought away for now, eager eyes taking in the rest of the man.

  The eyes that met his were such a deep brown they looked almost black. Nathan loved them instantly and even A Bar Tender Tale | Melanie Tushmore 21

  felt a little jealous. While the man’s skin was light, his hair was dark, and not like Nathan’s synthetic blue-black; it was a natural color. Dark hair was another of Nathan’s favorites.

  This guy’s hair was short but not that short, in slightly messy waves that made Nathan’s hands tense with the urge to run his fingers through it.

  So far all the major boxes had been ticked. Tall, yes.

  Dark, yes. And handsome?

  Hell yes.

  He was simply gorgeous. A perfect face, those dark eyes, and a strong jawline dusted with dark stubble. Not enough for a beard, which was fine, as Nathan wasn’t keen on beards anyway… but maybe just enough to tickle. He definitely wouldn’t mind that. Especially that bit of stubble above those full lips….

  Nathan became acutely aware that he was staring. He blinked, turning back to the older couple and tried to form words. “Um, sorry, er… there’s no Tabasco sauce….”

  “Try over there,” another old man who was propping up the bar barked at him, pointing towards the far end of the shelves. Nathan looked and miraculously found the Tabasco sauce.

  “Come here often, do you?” He teased the old man with a smile but received only a mumble in reply. Nathan worked fast mixing the Bloody Marys in case the gorgeous younger man got bored and left.

  When he deposited the drinks on the bar he saw Mr.

  Handsome was still there, waiting patiently for his turn.

  What amazing eyes….

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  Nathan held out his hand absently to the older lady who was brandishing her purse, his eyes never leaving the younger man. He was perhaps older than Nathan was, but it couldn’t have been by much. It was hard to tell when someone was dressed in a suit. Maybe mid to late twenties?

  Maybe—

  “But you didn’t say how much the drinks are?” the older lady reminded him, demanding his attention.

  Nathan had to restrain himself from throttling her.

  Instead he smiled politely and turned away to the till. He couldn’t even make a face at her with his back turned since most bars, including this one, had mirrors along the shelves.

  Her beady little eyes were tracking his every move. He rang up the Bloody Marys.

  “Eight pounds sixty, please,” he told her, holding his hand out again.

  “How much?” the older lady griped. “That’s outrageous!”

  “I know, hun,” Nathan tried to say as nicely as he could.

  “But I can’t do much about that, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, it’s very steep,” she muttered, but still handed over a tenner.

  Nathan snatched the note before she changed her mind, rang it through, and gave the change back to her, ready to turn away and—

  “Oh, have you got any cheese and onion crisps?” asked the older man who was with her.

  ARRGGH!

  Nathan glared but smiled at the same time. “Let me have a look,” he said between gritted teeth and disappeared A Bar Tender Tale | Melanie Tushmore 23

  under the bar. Taking a deep breath, he fished out the crisps and popped up again, placing the packet on the bar.

  “Cheese and onion,” he declared. “Do you want me to check how much they are first?”

  “Oh, yes please.”

  Nathan had been joking, but now he’d offered…. Well, if the old man didn’t buy them, he’d just have to explain to Gary about the error on his till later.

  “Seventy pence,” Nathan said, his eyes skimming over the couple to the gorgeous man next to them, praying he wouldn’t leave. There was a faint smile on the guy’s lips.

  Nathan smiled back, pleased that he didn’t seem to be in a hurry or on the verge of leaving.

  “Oh, seventy pence?” the older man said. “That’s ever such a lot for a packet of crisps….”

  Waiting two beats to remain calm, Nathan said, “Pretty sure I can’t help that either, mate. Sorry.”

  “Oh well… oh all right, then.”

  “Twisted your arm,” Nathan muttered, still smiling tightly.

  When the couple finally had everything they wanted, they shuffled off, leaving Nathan to drink in the visual feast of the man now in front of him. He was very good looking.

  His dark eyes simply danced as he smiled back.

  “You’re a lot more patient than Gaz, you are,” the man said in a voice that was both resonant and soft at the same time. There was the barest hint of a Welsh accent. “Is he about?”

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  “Um….” Nathan tried to think of the best response. If he said Gary was busy sleeping, this gorgeous creature might leave.

  “Um, he’s just upstairs,” Nathan said, which was the truth after all. “What can I get for you?” It was on the tip of his tongue to offer something more suggestive, but he decided against the flirty banter for now.

  If this man was asking for Gary then it was likely he was straight as a ruler, and there was no point scaring away the only decent bit of scenery Nathan was likely to get today.

  “All right….” Mr. Handsome frowned slightly in thought as he scanned the pumps at the bar. “Let’s have a John Smith’s.”

  “Sure,” Nathan answered, dying to add on a provocative line about pumps but thought better of it.

  He didn’t miss the opportunity, however, to drape himself against Mr. Handsome’s would-be pint glass and work that pump seductively. Pulling pints like this had always seemed amusingly suggestive to Nathan. He just hoped Mr. Handsome was appreciating his hard work; that pint barely had a bubble of foam on it.

  The smile he got when Mr. Handsome received his pint was worth the effort.

  “Very nice,” he commented.

  Nathan was sure he was only referring to his drink, but he smiled back all the same. He almost said “Have it on the house,” then remembered he wasn’t behind his own bar.

  Nathan rang it through the till and held his hand out for the A Bar Tender Tale | Melanie Tushmore 25

  money. He felt a spark of electricity when Mr. Handsome’s fingers touched his own.

  Wow, calm down, Nathan told himself, throwing the money in and slamming the till shut. He took a deep breath before turning back and busying himself at the bar, finding small jobs to do that would keep him close by. He was elated to see that Mr. Handsome had sat down on a bar stool almost directly opposite. He seemed relaxed and friendly, not to me
ntion gorgeous….

  “So I haven’t seen you working here before?” Nathan was pleased that he'd kept the conversation open. Although the man might just feel sorry for him on his own. After all, the only other customer sitting at the bar was the grizzly old man at the far end. The other meager customers of the pub were sitting at the tables, muttering about how loud the music was today.

  “Yeah, I’m not really working,” Nathan said. “I mean I am, but I’m just doing Gaz a favor. I work in another bar.”

  “Oh right.” Mr. Handsome frowned. “I thought you said Gaz was upstairs?”

  “Yeah, he is…. He just had to do something,” Nathan thought fast. “He’ll be down soon.”

  “Ah, right.” Mr. Handsome nodded. “I’m Auryn, by the way.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Auryn,” he said again. “Like aw-rin, right? It’s Welsh.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that. I can hear your accent. Just a bit, I mean,” Nathan babbled. “It’s nice. Not as strong as Gaz’s….

  Not that his isn’t nice. Oh, you know what I mean.” A Bar Tender Tale | Melanie Tushmore 26

  “Do I?”

  Nathan tried to read his look, caught in those dark eyes.

  Auryn seemed perfectly calm, and the faint smile seemed genuine. Nathan decided the best he could do was to keep talking.

  “So are you from Denbigh as well?”

  “Ah yes,” Auryn smiled. “Good old Denbigh. I went to school with Gaz and his brother, you know.”

  “Really? Any stories?”

  “Oh, millions!”

  Nathan decided that he really liked looking at the man in front of him. When he caught himself staring at Auryn for slightly too long he tried to snap himself out of it. “Um, so any you’d care to dish? Dirt on Gaz is always good.” Auryn waved his hand as he took a sip of his pint.