Page 27 of Good as Gold
“Good help is hard to find,” Otto says. “Your brother had a guy stealing from him once.”
“I know, Otto. I run a business, too.”
“Awinterbusiness. You’re done snowboarding for the season, right?”
My business actually operates at a low volume all year. In the summer we offer aerial tours and airport trips. But Otto doesn’t want to hear it. “Yeah. So?” I shrug.
“Last summer I bought a beer wagon with Lyle Giltmaker. Plenty of demand for it, but I need a manager.”
I shake my head. “That honestly sounds fun, but I have to earn some serious cash this summer. People are depending on me.”
“You don’t understand,” he says. “The pay is great. Don’t underestimate the beer zealots. Those fuckers drive hundreds of miles to get a taste of the cult beers. It’s a good business. But I gotta have a man I can trust. Alec is stretched too thin right now.”
“I’ll be back in Colorado in a few weeks.”
“Just think about it,” Otto presses as I sign the last form. “You could stay in the trailer for free. Rent out your place in Aspen. Sell beer all summer. Wear more of those tight shirts to maximize tips.” He points at my chest, which is—admittedly—stretching the limits of a T-shirt that’s a little on the small side. But Damien had told me that they wear black behind the bar, and this is my only black shirt.
I snort. “Now you’re my pimp? I see how it is.”
He doesn’t even crack a smile. “Leila Giltmaker is working for her father this summer. Maybe that’s a motivating factor.”
“She is?”
He nods. “She needs extra cash, too. You’re not the only one having a midlife crisis. Think about it.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.” I stand up from the table and push in my chair. “Later.”
* * *
“Then he made a crack about this shirt being tight,” I tell my sister as we cut limes to prep for the rush.
If there evenisa Monday night rush. Tonight might be boring as shit. It’s April, which is the quiet time in Vermont—between ski season and our beautiful summer weather.
“That is a boastful shirt if I ever saw one,” she says. “Somebody goes to the gym. Otto had a point.”
I let out a comical gasp. “Are you taking Otto’s side? Who are you anymore?” Zara was a very rebellious teenager, and she and my uncle always locked horns.
“Hey, I’m always on your side. But I think you underestimate the earning power of that shirt in this bar. Once upon a time I had a whole closet full of low-cut tops. They’re good for tips.”
“It’s not the same for guys.” I snort.
She chuckles. “You’ll see. You just won’t care, because you’ve got heart eyes for Leila.”
I don’t dignify that with a response. Zara already gave me shit for Leila spending the night. She asked me point blank if we’d had wild monkey sex on her pull-out couch. And when I promised her we didn’t, she looked disappointed.
My takeaway is that this town runs on cult beer and gossip.
And pizza. Thank God the Gin Mill’s cook isn’t also on his honeymoon, because I’ve already gobbled down a pie topped with pears and goat cheese. It was delicious.
My brother’s bar probably prints money on the weekends.
Good for Alec. His life is on track.
That makes one of us.
* * *
“Okay, remember when I worried that Monday night would be dull?” I complain to Zara as I reach over her head for another pint glass.
