Page 29 of Small Town Firsts
“Groupies?”
“Yeah. People come here specifically to see her at the bar. Did you know she was a champion at one of those bartender expo things? You know, like the ones on TV based in Vegas?”
“I definitely did not know that.”
“Yeah, Mason put televisions out here so we could watch it after shift last summer.” The girl’s smile lit up her face. “Mason is the owner.”
“I figured.”
She blushed. “Anyway, she’s really good. Sometimes people just come in when she’s working to watch her.”
I knew I fucking would, if I’d known. There was some of that playful Kira I’d seen today in the way she tossed smiles around and laughed with the customers.
Especially the devilish grin when she’d aimed that hose at me.
But what was she doing working here when she’d quit Lucky’s? I understood needing some extra scratch, but running the Taproom had to come with a decent salary. Beckett was a fair boss from what I could tell.
Based on the loyalty I saw from his people, there had to be some money behind it. Not everyone wanted to be best friends with the owners. I knew that my situation was a little different—the Mannings were paying for my knowledge.
But if I remembered correctly, Kira had only done waitressing at the bar as well.
More things didn’t add up there either. I was sure the tips were better out here than with the blue-collar types in Turnbull. Lucky’s had been my usual after work haunt lately and from what I’d seen, the owner would have been utilizing Kira’s talents behind the bar at least on the weekends.
Instead, Kira worked out here—at least twenty minutes or more outside of Turnbull.
Not that far in the grand scheme of things, but after a full day at the Taproom or orchard, it just didn’t make sense.
The hostess smiled. “Well, the bar-top table I have for you has a perfect view of Kira.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude or that obvious.”
“It’s okay. Kira has that effect on people. Not that anyone has had a chance with her. She likes to keep things all business.”
That part I knew. However, I’d had her in my lap today, so I still had hope.
The drunk idiots leaning in on her at the bar did not.
The hostess handed me a menu as we stopped beside my bar-top. “Stef will be your waiter. He’ll be around soon.”
“Thanks.”
I felt mildly pathetic about how focused I was on Kira, but she was so different here than the woman I’d been used to for the last two weeks.
The Kira I knew was definitely all business—until today. Until she’d hit me with the hose, then melted over me.
Thankful for the shadows, and the table hiding the bottom half of me for that matter, I was able to take a second to get my brain back in gear.
My hands fisted on the table as the guys crowding around Kira at the bar got rowdier.
I noticed a tall man with windswept blond hair hover at the threshold of the patio. He was wearing a collared shirt and holding a clipboard. Probably a manager type.
Kira gave the manager a subtle shake of her head. Evidently she was used to dealing with idiots.
The blond crossed his arms, but he didn’t leave his post at first. Until the vampy dark-haired woman from the hostess station came up to him with what looked to be a problem. He seemed to be torn to leave the patio, but whatever the server said to him convinced him to follow.
Before I could get a look at what was happening at the bar, my own server was standing in front of me with a polite smile. He looked like he belonged on the party boat with curling sunny blond hair and a tan that said he probably wore board shorts when he wasn’t at work. “Hi, I’m Stef. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with a drink from the bar?”
“Yeah. Whatever local brew you have on tap works.” I didn’t bother looking at the menu. “T-bone medium with a loaded baked potato.”
