Page 24 of Freshmeet
“See you there,” my uncle said, patting me on the shoulder as he passed.
“Suck up,” Jamie said, punching my arm.
Shoving him so hard he stumbled, I started toward my car. “It’s called planning ahead.”
Jamie rubbed his arm and followed. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Do you mind if I crash at your apartment? I don’t feel like driving home.”
“That’s fine, just remember to lock up when you leave.”
Jamie, in fact, did not lock the door, but after a long day putting up drywall, I couldn’t find it in me to bitch him out.
A quick shower and I was off to job number two—bartender at the Welkum Inn.
“Connor, this is Meg. She’ll get you caught up to speed on how we do things around here. Let me know if you guys need anything. I have a new cook coming in and need to make sure Frank is ready for them.” John, a large, tattooed biker, tapped the bar top with his clipboard and left us.
Meg smiled at me, handing me a cup of water. “It’s hot out there today.”
I chugged the whole thing, the ice-cold water hitting the spot. “Thanks.”
“No problem. So, have you worked in a bar?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’ve been working construction for the past few years, but I need something that works with my school schedule.”
“They’ll definitely do that. Most of us are students, and I’ve never had a problem with scheduling.” She paused, taking a sip of her drink. “Are you a transfer?”
It was clear I’d be explaining my delayed entry into the collegiate world until I became just another face in the crowd. “Actually, I’m a freshman.”
“Huh.” She tilted her head, and her shiny dark hair fell like a curtain over her shoulder. “Why don’t you come back here, and we can start with some basics?”
“You got it, boss.”
I picked up my cup and rounded the bar. The sheer number of liquors and beers made me a little nervous, but I’d beenfiguring shit out for as long as I could remember. This would just be another thing for me to master.
“You can just pull beers for tonight.”
My shoulders sagged in relief. “Sounds good.”
“Pouring a beer isn’t hard.” She grabbed a pint glass and demonstrated the proper pour. “Just tilt the glass and fill. You don’t want a glass that’s all head.” She finished filling the glass and set it down. “And voila!”
“Got it. Should I try?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want to drink alone.” She took a sip of her beer, closed her eyes, and sighed in delight.
Grabbing a glass, I did exactly what she did. Once the glass was full, I lifted it for her inspection. She moved closer, and I caught the scent of vanilla. Meg smelled like a cookie.
“Perfection. You’re a good student.” She held her beer up to mine. “Cheers.”
John was nowhere in sight, so I took a big gulp. Letting out an appreciative noise, I smiled. “I needed that.”
“Yeah?” Meg’s tongue darted out to lick foam off her top lip. She still hadn’t taken a step back, and I got the feeling my trainer was interested in more than making sure I wasn’t a shit bartender.
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“It’s summer in Kirksville. How busy could you be?” She propped her hip against the bar, crossing an arm under her chest, pushing everything up and together.
I did my best not to frown as I took a step back and leaned against the back of the bar, ignoring the way her smirk wavered. “This is job number two of the day.”
“Oh, gotcha.” She took another big drink. “Well, hopefully you’ll make enough tips here and can ditch the second job.”
