Page 21 of Choosing a Forever
Am I being a bitch to him? Why does he care if I get home safe?
At the same time, my heart flutters, and the teenager in me sighs and swoons at how sweet he is.
“What’s got a smile on that usually downturned mouth?” Joanna, the bar manager, calls from her position behind the register.
I shake my head and put my phone back in my pocket on “do not disturb.” The only calls that will come through are from Harper, Kinsley, and Lizzie in case ofan emergency. When I interviewed for the bartending position, I was transparent about my situation and how I’d need to have some type of accommodations in case something happens. Luckily, the owners, Gordan and Marie, were more than happy to oblige.
There hasn’t been an emergency since I started here, thank goodness, but I still get anxious every time I have to leave my sisters alone for a shift. My mind swirls with anxiety thinking about Harper’s blood sugar getting too low or someone breaking in and trying to kidnap them, and no one being there to protect them.
I know they’re fifteen, and I’m not their mother, but I am their guardian. I’m still overly protective of them. They’re the only family I have left, and I’m theirs. I don’t know what would happen if we were to lose each other.
After putting the rest of my stuff in my employee locker and clocking in, I step behind the bar and start slicing limes and lemons next to where Joanna is still setting up the till.
“Well, are you going to answer me?” Joanna asks, shutting the register and turning to me.
Joanna is only in her early forties, but she still acts like a mother hen. She gives off major “don’t fuck with me” vibes with her ice blonde, spiky pixie cut and dark eyeliner over her brown eyes. Her ears are filled with so many piercings I’m surprised they can hold them, and she’s got a spiky black septum ring pierced through her nose.
I want to be her when I grow up.
Despite her outward appearance, the woman is a softie at heart andlivesfor gossip and drama.
She’s been trying to get the lowdown on my non-existent love life since I started working here, and I haven’t had anything to tell her.
Not that I have anything to tell hernow. I’m not dating anyone.
I shrug while I quarter the lime on the cutting board. “Just a friend.”
Joanna snorts. “Right. Afriend.A friend who made your permanent frown turn into a smile. The only other person who’s made you smile is Marie, and that’s because she’s the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet.”
She’s right, Marieisthe sweetest woman I’ve ever met. She’s a petite, polite grandma type who makes quilts for the staff for Christmas and feeds stray cats.
She reminds me a lot of my mom, which makes me nostalgic and sad, but also comforts me when the days are darker than I’d like them to be.
I didn’t even realize I was smiling about Tal’s text. Now I’m even more upset with myself because Ishouldn’tbe smiling over it. I should be annoyed he’s somehow worked his way back into my life and is acting like a fucking gentleman, making me want to kick my feet and giggle every time he texts me.
I’m twenty-eight! I can’t be acting like a teenager with a crush. Even if I feel like one.
“You’re really not going to give me anything?” Joanna pushes her bottom lip out in a pout, and I shake my head. “Fine. Someday you’ll have some juicy gossip for me, and I’ll be ready and waiting with a shot of vodka.”
Never gonna happen.
Sunday shifts are either hectic as fuck or slower than cold tar. Tonight, apparently, no one wants a drink before the work week starts, so I’ve been cleaning bottles and mixing new cocktails for our regular patrons to try.
Most of them are crotchety old men who stick to their whiskey or Bud Light, but they don’t say no when Joanna tells them they get to be guinea pigs because they’re scared of her.
I’m just setting down a Moscow mule made with jalapeño vodka in front of the men when the bell above the door rings. Joanna calls out she’ll check IDs, so I wait while I watch them try their first sip.
Keith, the retired PD chief, chokes and coughs after taking a sip. “Mack, what in tarnation is this? You tryna kill me?”
That makes my lip twitch. “Come on, Keith. A little jalapeño never hurt anyone,” I tease.
“You made this with that jalapeño vodka?” Randy bristles, pronouncing jalapeño “ja-lop-en-oh.”
“I’m trying to add some new flavors to the menu. You guys don’t like it?” I already know their answer. They don’t like anything I make aside from their usuals.
They’re not very good guinea pigs.
“Hell no! Get that shit away from me. All I need is a beer. Stop trying to expand my tastes, Mack. If I wanted that I’d go to the fancy-shmancy, hipster cocktail bar on Main,” Keith grouses.
