He extends his hand and I let him help me out of the car. Once I’m standing on the curb, I shoot him a saucy, “Muchas gracias.”
He grins at me.
I hear the other door shut and watch Pete walk around the hood of his car. He tosses his keys to Felix. “My little sister is filling in. Please behave.”
Of course he would emphasize ‘little sister’. I roll my eyes. “I’m grown, Pete. You behave.”
Felix laughs. “This should be interesting. Have you told the boss who you’ve hired?”
“Just park the car,” Pete says.
My brother starts to walk inside and I follow. Is his boss going to be mad that he brought me? Over his shoulder, I ask, “Are you going to get in trouble? And why are you making Felix park your car? It’s rude.”
Pete holds the door open for me. “It’s not rude. It’s his job. He’s a valet.”
Oh. So much for my earlier cut-off question. I was going to ask where he parks.
“Besides,” he continues, “I hired him. I can fire him.”
“What?”
Pete ushers me inside. “I’m a bouncer, but I’m also a manager. That’s why I needed to find someone to cover the bar. The schedule is my responsibility.”
My eyes narrow. “‘I don’t want to leave you alone on a Saturday’,” I mimic his voice. “You’re so full of shit.”
He grins. “Hey. I didn’t know if you would want to work while you’re here. I haven’t forgotten my tactics from when we were kids. Remember when I tricked you into doing my chores because I told you I’d split my allowance?”
“Yes,” I snap. “You’re awful. Convincing a six-year-old to clean toilets because you, Adam, and Josh couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn when you took a piss. You told me a nickel was worth more than a dime because it was bigger.”
He laughs. “I paid for it, though. Mom grounded me for a week.”
This is true.
My brother stops walking and grabs my elbow. “Little J, you’re really helping me out. If I had any other alternative, I wouldn’t have dragged you down here. The last thing I want to watch is my friends hitting on you.”
I’m confused. “Do you mean Felix? He’s harmless.”
“And Carter. And Latson. And God knows who else.”
I give him an exasperated look. “I can hold my own. A little innocent flirting never hurt anyone. It can make a girl feel good, you know.”
Pete scrunches up his face like he tasted something sour. “I don’t need my friends making you feel good.”
I roll my eyes.
“Jennnnnnn!” Gwen draws out my name and rushes to greet me. “I’m so glad you’re here! When I called your brother to tell him about Mina and Maggie I almost cried.”
My forehead creases.
“Let me show you around.”
Gwen grabs my wrist and I let her lead me around Torque. As we walk, I realize the outside of the building doesn’t do the inside justice. It’s much bigger than it appears from the street, with two levels and an elevated stage in one corner. The décor is urban, with exposed light bulbs, pipes, and wood beams. Mismatched chairs and high top tables are sporadically spaced, and a large horseshoe-shaped bar extends to the center of the main floor. As my eyes trace the upper balcony that wraps around the entire room, Gwen catches me staring.
“There are couches upstairs and two private lounges,” she says. “The only bar is down here, but people can order drinks from the waitstaff if they’re sitting up top.”
I nod as she leads me behind the massive bar. She points out all the essentials: ice machine, dump sink, soda guns, syrup connections, keg coolers. She crouches in front of a locked cabinet and pulls a key ring from her back pocket.
“Here’s where we keep the liquor for set-up and stock if we run low. There’s more in the basement if the night gets busy, which I think it will with Riptide here.”
“Riptide?”
“The band that’s playing tonight.” She smiles over her shoulder. “They’re local but they’re popular.”
Gwen opens up the cabinet and starts handing me bottles to fill the wells.
“Premium on the left, house on the right,” she says.
We spend the next hour prepping our work space. We laugh and make small talk as we tap kegs, fill napkin dispensers, stock glasses, and slice lemons and limes. I get to see a little of the basement on a search for maraschino cherries, and, as we stand and spear olives, the band starts their sound check. I hate to admit that I’ve missed working a bar, but I have. There’s something about this atmosphere that excites me. The music, the party, the people. I know my feet and my lower back are going to ache in the morning, but right now I couldn’t care less.
“Well, lookie who’s here.”
Gwen is in the middle of giving me a cash register lesson when we’re interrupted. I look away from the monitor. “Hey, Carter.”
His eyes light up. “You remember me.” He leans over the top of the bar and grabs a stir stick from the container.
“How could I forget the man who’s trying to steal my brother’s girl?”
He gives me a wry smile. “That’s just me giving Jules crap. Pete and I asked her out at the same time on a dare. She flipped a coin to decide who to see first and he won. The rest is history. I never got my chance.”
“Awww.” I fake sympathy and pout. “Poor Carter.”
“Poor me is right.”
“What-ever.” Gwen draws out the word and rolls her eyes. “This guy is with someone new all the time. Don’t let him fool you.”
I level my eyes at Carter. “So, you’re a player.”
“No. I’m a bouncer.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “It’s not my fault if the ladies need help getting home from time to time.”
I laugh.
“Carter!”
My brother’s voice carries from the main doors. “Let’s go!” he hollers.
Carter sighs. “Duty calls.” He walks backward from the bar. “Save me a shift drink, Little J.” He smirks as he puts the stir stick in his mouth to chew.
Ugh! Why did Pete tell him my nickname? I step to the side to look around Carter and find my brother across the room. “You’re in trouble Peter Frances!” I shout.
My brother’s eyes get big. He hates his middle name.
No. He loathes it.
Carter turns around and starts to laugh. “Frances?”
Pete’s scathing look meets a smug one of my own. Ha! He wants to share embarrassing things about me? Score one for Jen.
It’s not long before the bar is packed and I’m running my ass off. Gwen and Pete were right. It’s a busy night. When the band takes the stage at nine o’clock, I feel like I’m attending a big-name concert, not working a local club. Applause and whistles accompany Riptide’s opening song, and the energy doesn’t stop through the band’s first set. Their music is good, rock with a bluesy feel, and I fight the urge to dance by timing my drink slinging skills with the beat. At one point, Gwen and I end up facing each other and realize we’re doing the same routine. We laugh.
When the band takes a break, our business picks up. I’m busy pulling a draft when a guy pushes his way through the crowd and slaps some bills on the bar top.
“Hey, Sweet Cheeks.”
I meet his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I have something extra for you if you hurry it up.”
He pushes the money toward me and I scowl. This isn’t the first time someone has tried to bribe me to serve them before others. “Not interested,” I say. “These people were here first.”
I turn and hand the beer to the person who ordered it, earning a two-dollar tip. I start to take the next order when Jerk Face interrupts.
“C’mon.” He moves into my next customer’s personal space. “You look like you could use the extra cash.”
Whoa. What? I pat the growing wad of bills in my back pocket and get sarcastic. “I have enough money without yours. Keep it up and I won’t serve you at all.”
A group of people is next in line and they witness our exchange. One of them speaks up. “Dude. Leave her alone and wait your turn.”
I shoot him a tiny smile and try to take their order again.
Jerk Face gets obnoxious. “This is bullshit. No wonder I haven’t had a decent drink all night. You have no idea what you’re doing.” He looks me over with disdain. “Who did you fuck to get this job?”