Page 11 of Hot and Bothered
I remembered seeing a broom in the utility closet down the hallway. My spirits lifted as I realized this was one thing I could probably do and not make a mess of it.
I went to collect the cleaning tools then started at one corner of the bar and slowly worked my way up and down. Lizzy took care of the customer’s orders, and the few we did have were content to talk quietly among themselves, so I didn’t even have to speak with anyone.
There was an odd sort of satisfaction in seeing the floor turn shiny as I swept away the layer of dust that had settled in overnight. It was such a mundane task and yet I couldn’t help but feel pleased that I was able to help out, considering this was something I’d never done before.
“How’s it coming along?” Evan asked when I was close to being done.
There was a tiny pile of dirt and dust collecting in the middle of the room. It was smaller than I had expected. For some reason, in my mind, the idea of a bar made me think dirty, grimy, dark, and dank. But Sin and Tonic was brightly lit and the surfaces were shiny and sleek. Aside from the dust, the place was a clean as any high-class restaurant I’d been in.
“I’m almost done,” I told Evan.
I looked at the pile of dust again. Now that I had gathered it into a tiny mound I wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
As if sensing my confusion, Evan held out a dustpan, handing it to me with a slightly amused smile.
“When you’re finished, sweep up all the dust into this dustpan and throw it out into the garbage.”
I thought about protesting and telling him that I knew how to sweep the floor, but the truth was if he hadn’t shown me the dustpan I probably would have stared at that pile of dirt and grime for long minutes, wondering whether I should just sweep it under a rug or something.
“Thank you,” was all I said as I took it from his hands.
I hadn’t told Evan exactly what my upbringing had been like, but I got the sense he knew I was somewhat lost when it came to this kind of thing.
After I’d swept up the dust and disposed of it in the trash bin, I stood back and surveyed the nice shiny floors.
It was oddly Cinderella-like. I could almost imagine myself as a character in some Disney movie, a girl born a princess who had been forced to leave home and was now stuck doing manual labor for a living.
But instead of feeling bitter or downtrodden, a sense of accomplishment filled my chest.
“Done with that?” Evan asked.
He’d kept popping in and out as I had been sweeping. Keeping an eye on me, maybe? Making sure I wasn’t messing up? Or making sure I was still on board with this wholework at a barthing?
“The floor is as good as new,” I told him, beaming with pride. “What’s next?”
“Now let’s have you wash the dishes,” he said.
Behind the bar there was a small double sink. I didn’t waste time waiting for instructions. I went straight to it and got to work.
I had to dredge up any memories I could of my family’s many housekeepers standing in the kitchen washing plates and cutlery. I knew there had to be a bottle of dishwashing soap somewhere, and I found it in a cupboard under the sink. There were also some sponges.
I can do this, I thought to myself.It’s as easy as sweeping the floor.
But I soon found that it wasn’t. The soap made the dishes slippery in my hands, and I dropped more glasses than I washed. They landed in the sink with loud clattering noises. I cringed every time it happened, expecting someone to come running up and ask me what I thought I was doing.
But they seemed content to leave me be and let me work in peace. Evan and Grant made drinks for the people at the bar, and in between serving customers, Lizzy fought with the cash register, muttering under her breath.
It was during one moment when I was sneaking another glance at Evan when it happened.
A martini glass slipped from my hands. Instead of landing in the sink, it crashed to the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces and sending shards skittering across the floor.
My heart sank even as I jumped back in surprise.
Evan, Lizzy, and Grant whipped their heads to me, eyes wide.
“I’m so sorry,” I told the three of them, shame rising my chest.
“It’s all right,” Evan said. “We’ve got lots of extra glasses.”
