We have two guys who work the door, Hollis being our main bouncer. He’s not the friendliest employee we have, but bouncers don’t need to be nice. As far as I’m concerned his job is to keep the asswipes out of my bar. There’re a lot of fake IDs showing up lately, not to mention people trying to get through the door who are clearly wasted. We don’t have to serve anyone who’s shitfaced and can barely stand. It’s bad for business when they cause a scene.
And again, I’m being hypocritical, because no one at this bar causes a scene more than my wife and me.
The chandeliers are on their lowest setting and the front window is tinted so the only light that enters the room comes from the front door. I text Hollis to pull the doorstop and keep it closed so the bar is in controlled darkness. The atmosphere for a lounge when people are drinking wine should be dim and relaxing, not ignited by the sun, and Hollis can check ID’s from inside tonight. Plus, I saw clouds rolling in from the West, and I bet we’ll have another round of rain before nightfall. Once the clouds block the strong sunshine, he can reopen the door.
Speaking of bright lights... my wife is the spark of life at every table. She smiles and touches the seated customers on their shoulders as she talks. It’s all a show, we all know she’s not that friendly, but she sure can fake being a princess. And our guests haven’t a clue as to what’s really on her mind. She’s probably thinking, what an asinine tat on that guy. Doesn’t he know women won’t find a miniature Yoda staring back at them sexy? Is that supposed to be attractive? I’d rather see a giant vagina on your forearm than a wrinkled, white-haired troll.
Yes, that’s exactly what she’s thinking as she smiles and travels around the room. In real life she’d be brutally honest with the guy about his ink, but at work she’s a photo negative of herself... a complete reversal in personality... except when speaking to our employees. She can be irritable around them, but most of the time it’s for good reason. She’s pointing her finger at Hollis and complaining about someone at this very minute. He nods and escorts a guy out. I look to Haverty who gives me the ‘ok’ sign with his fingers, so I know all is well. She usually does that when someone’s comments make her uncomfortable.
I continue watching my wife work the room. Her ass swings and she tilts her head when she speaks, listening to people with a pleasant expression on her face. Polite and dignified. I bet she also has little pieces of candy in her purse, a conventionally feminine quality. And that isn’t a joke, but something I actually need right now if I’m going to talk to a lot of people downstairs. I want to make sure my breath’s mint fresh.
Her purse still sits on the floor under my desk and sure enough, a pack of her usual Chowards Violet Chewing Gum is inside. Yup, feminine, not minty, but it will do.
I lock my office door on the way downstairs and notice that my mother has arrived, along with a few more employees. My father should be here for the final four hours, sending my mother home around ten.
The lounge area is now crammed with people and there’s not a table in sight that doesn’t have a second bottle of wine being consumed. That tells me it’s going to be another great season for our business; a constant flow of people drinking, socializing, and texting their friends to come out and join them. The Scarlett hasn’t been this packed since mating season was in full swing at the beginning of spring.
A few of the regulars are at their usual table and one raises his glass while the others call out my name. I shake their hands and then check that everything’s okay at the bar, sending Haverty to inspect the private rooms. We have three scheduled parties, including a meet and greet corporate mixer and a bridal shower. He usually keeps his eye on the back area while watching over the bar as well. With Hollis at the front and Soph and my mother on the floor with the other workers, our customers are settled, laughing, and spending money. And that’s what it’s all about. We’re more than happy to take their green. Drink away my little pretties... damn, I’m starting to go insane without any alcohol in my system. I was fine at dinner, but now a hundred people surround me with a drink in hand.
“You doing okay, buddy? Your eyes keep gazing at the bottles instead of at the customers.” Haverty brings me out of my daydream while pulling me away from the bar. “Maybe you should be in your office tonight instead of on the floor. There’s got to be some big boy paperwork waiting for you up there. We’re okay. It’s busy, but everything’s under control.”
“Since Sunday, I’ve only had a couple of swigs from my flask, and that was only because it was the night I lost my shit. This is the fourth day. My hands are a shaky mess,” I exhale and run my fingers through my hair. “I should’ve opened a restaurant and not a wine bar.”
“More than likely, you’d still be serving alcohol at a restaurant,” he says.
“Okay... then an art gallery.”
“You’d still be...”
“Hav, shut up.”
“Okay, come on.” With his hand on my back, he leads me to the stairwell and points. “Go!” he demands. “You need to work in your office for a few weeks until you get over your cravings. We’ve got this. Now go.”
“I’m going to talk to Sophia first... who the fuck’s our DJ tonight?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Haverty says with an eye on the speakers. “Didn’t know you liked The Raconteurs,” he laughs.
“Just tell whoever it is to stick with the playlist, or maybe you should go over there and put Nina back on, this heavier sound will drive people away.”
“I happen to like this heavier sound,” he starts to sing as he walks toward the DJ’s booth. I do too, but not during business hours.
Without batting an eye, Sophia rushes past me with a bottle of wine and a stack of folded Dark Scarlett t-shirts in her hands. I pull her close so she can’t escape, in need of another kiss before I withdraw into my office for the night. I brush my nose across her cheek and our mouths meet.
“You look hot this evening, Soph,” I whisper in her ear.
“It fucking took you long enough to tell me that. You’ve got fans by the way. They asked me if you were single,” she points to a table of well-dressed business women who smile and wave. I nod my head and wink then return my gaze to my wife. “Ha,” she moves her body closer to mine. “I’ve never seen you act so charming at work. Do you think you can handle all ten of them if they want to do the nasty with you?” she teases.
“Do the nasty? You mean, help with my paperwork?”
She wrinkles her nose and flaunts her best pouty face. “Are you leaving us already? You’ve only been down here for a minute.”
I nod and tuck her hair behind her ears in a loving gesture. “I need to move away from the alcohol for a while,” I whisper.
She nods and turns back to the women. “I’ll come up and visit you in a bit, but first...” she sways her ass as she walks away, placing a few t-shirts on their table and the bottle of wine. I can tell by their expressions and laughter that they realize I’m “unattainable,” and it looks like they have an excess of questions for my wife. She’s in a playful mood, so she’ll probably tell them anything they want to know about me, or what she believes they want to hear. It’s time to disappear so I don’t have to deal with the awkward stares as she speaks.
I wonder why the hell Haverty hasn’t resolved the music issue. Jack White’s voice is still heavily filling my ears, only the DJ moved away from The Raconteurs and on to The White Stripes. What gives?
With a pile of job applications in one hand, and my cell in the other, I sit next to the balcony railing to keep an eye on the front door while still accomplishing some work. Damn, these kids are young. There’s an application from a sixteen-year-old for Christ’s sake. I let it float to the floor and move on to the next. Shit, you’re kidding me. Marcus Wild? Alyssa’s voice pops into my head saying for realz?
It has a Las Vegas address, his employment history at Jameson Industries, and lists Sophia, David, and Paul as his references. What an ass.