Page 9 of Sunkissed Colorado
And laughed some more.
My towel paused on its cleaning duties, my hip cocking as I frowned. “It’s not that funny. I’m already bar manager.”
“But running the entire Hearthstone operation? That’s a lot of logistics and contracts and spreadsheets. Budgets. You weren’t any better at math than I was in school.”
“Fuck you. I did okay.”
“If it was your sister, maybe, but you…”
“Grace already does the books for this place. She’s not looking for another job.”
“No kidding. She’s shacked up with a rich dude. Why would she?”
My jaw tightened. “Enough about Grace. I was talking about me. Why couldn’t I handle being general manager?”
“I didn’t say you can’t. It’s just a lot of numbers in that job, you know. You’re more of a front of the house guy. That’s a compliment. Besides,” Russ added with a grin, “you’d have to act all professional if you were the top boss. Couldn’t hook up with customers. Your status as Silver Ridge’s biggest man-whore would be in jeopardy.”
“Okay, I get it.” I tossed the bar towel at his face. “Don’t you have some hops to sniff or yeast to babysit?”
Before Russ could respond, my other bartender working tonight hurried over, looking frazzled. “You okay, Winnie?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry, but I just got a call. My niece Ally’s got a stomach bug. Apocalyptic level barfing, apparently. My sister’s babysitter just scooted, and there’s nobody to cover for her.”
I held back a wince. “Say no more. Go help your sister. I’ve got things covered here.”
“Thank you.” She clasped her hands together. “You’re a saint, O’Neal. Seriously.”
“Saint might be pushing it,” Russ muttered. I almost flipped him the bird, but I was beingprofessional.
Before she could leave, I asked, “Hey Win, do you think I could handle being general manager?”
“Of Hearthstone?”
“No, of the Denver Broncos.” I winked. “Yeah, I mean Hearthstone.”
She paused. “I mean…maybe? You’re awesome. But that would be a big jump, you know?”
Russ snorted. “There’s a vote of confidence, right there.”
Seriously? Did nobody believe in me?
That kinda hurt.
Winnie hurried home, and Russ did whatever brewmasters do at night. Debate the merits of west coast versus east coast hops, probably.
But despite my persistent smile and continuous banter as I served our customers, I contemplated the future.Myfuture. The possibility that I might want to be general manager, an idea that hadn’t even occurred to me before tonight.
But why the hell not? If somebody had to fill Manny’s shoes, why not me?
I was a Hart County boy. A native who, despite playing football for the high school team and then a stint in the military, had never wanted to live anywhere else. I loved Silver Ridge, and I loved Hearthstone. But that didn’t mean I lacked ambition.
My older brother Ashford was married and settled. My baby sister Grace was madly in love. Our friend Teller had fallen so hard he upended his entire life to be with his lady.
My point was, I was in my mid-thirties now. Why not try for something bigger?
Not a relationship, of course. I wasn’t built for one-and-onlys. Even if I was great at spotting love matches forotherpeople. It was a gift of mine.
But more responsibility could be ideal. More money. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I loved getting to know people, and pretty muchallpeople loved me. When combined with my work ethic, wouldn’t that make me a good head manager?
