Page 70 of Small Town Firsts
The ice in her gaze thawed a little and she shook my hand. “I should be seven-time Bar Expo champion. You got lucky.”
“No, I’m good.”
Lennon’s dark eyes narrowed, then she threw her head back with a laugh. “Okay, you got me there.” She dropped my handshake and instead held her fist out for a bump. “You were surprising. You won’t beat me again.”
“It was a onetime deal. Training for that left me with more bruises than a full season in the orchard when I was seventeen.”
“Hmm. Not sure how I feel about that. I’d prefer a rematch.”
“And I prefer to go out on top.”
Lennon’s eyes sparkled then. “I do prefer to be on top too.”
A laugh bubbled up before I could catch it. “Can’t deny that one either. How about I show you around?”
“I’m not really in the market for a permanent gig. I get bored.”
“And yet you came to see me?” The quick kick of disappointment nearly cracked my genial smile.
“I was curious why the woman who beat me would call me up for a job.”
“I wanted the best.”
Lennon’s dark stained lips quirked up at the corner. “Well, I am that. But I really don’t think you can afford me.”
“You’d be surprised with what I can afford.”
“Then why don’t you run the bar?”
I held out my arm. “Let me show you why.”
She huffed out a breath. “Fine.”
“We’ll look at the bar last.”
Lennon’s gaze tracked to the bar before flicking back to me. “All good.”
My heels clicked on the hardwood floors. “We just had the final buff done on the floors and we’ll be setting up the tables next week.” They’d been lovingly renovated and patched in areas that hadn’t been able to be saved from the old barn. The dark stain had been a gamble, especially with all the wrought iron in the space.
I pointed to the secondary bar we had installed. I hadn’t bothered to talk to Ronan about that. I had a vision and I had to stick with it and trust it was correct. “We have a smaller bar for busy nights but it can also be used as a food station. If you work here you’d be responsible for the main bar and training people.”
“Wait, training?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m not only looking for your expertise behind the bar, but for you to teach my bartenders.”
“Flair isn’t exactly something you pick up.”
“Flair is only part of your repertoire. I know you specialize in mixology as well. And you’ve been branching out.”
“And where did you learn that?” She stopped in the middle of the dining room and crossed her arms. “It’s not on my website.”
“No, but you’re not exactly shy about it. YouTube, subreddits, socials—you name it, you get tagged.”
She gave me a sly grin. “You cyber stalking me, Ms. Webb?”
“Kira. And yes—I sure did. That party you did for Brooklyn Dawn’s album release a few years ago still gets reshared.”
Lennon’s smile went from sly to wide and delighted. “That guitarist chick, Jamie, sure knows how to party. I swear we almost got arrested.”
