Page 28 of Good as Gold
“Yup!” She’s using one hand to pour gin over ice and the other to grab wedges of lime.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” The bar is packed.
“What’s the fun in that?” Then she points at my beer tap and shakes her head.
“Shit.” The keg is kicked, and the beer is barely dribbling out into the glass.
“Swap it,” she says. “I’ll finish your order.”
“Okay, sure.” I’m definitely letting my little sister call the shots tonight. Before Zara had kids, and before she opened the Busy Bean, she used to work as an actual bartender. So she’s faster at making the cocktails while I pull a million tap beers.
We’ve been buried under orders since six o’clock, with no end in sight. It’s actually nice to slip into the narrow room behind the bar and change the keg in peace for a few minutes.
Alec better be having the time of his life in California. Because this is hard work.
The keg that I’m swapping out is for Goldenrod—the newest cult beer made by Leila’s father, Lyle Giltmaker. He hit it big a few years ago.
I just didn’t realize how big until tonight. The Vermont beer scene is intense. One customer told me he drove up here from Arizona to visit three Vermont breweries. That sounds extreme to me.
Then again, I’ve been known to jump out of airplanes for fun. I guess we all have our hobbies.
As soon as the tap is changed, I head back behind the bar. Even though I could use a break, it’s not fair to let my little sister handle the crowd by herself.
When I round the corner, I see a familiar face on the other side of the bar. My old friend Rory.
CHAPTER11
MATTEO
Rory’s dark eyes widen as I approach his barstool. “Fuck, no way,” he says. “I saw you called me yesterday, but I had no idea you’d showed your ugly face in this town. Andworkin’ too.” He gives me his trademark cocky grin, but it looks a little tired.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a lot of shit from a lot of people. Want a drink? Quick—before I get slammed.”
“Course I do. How about a Goldenrod?”
I grab a pint glass and tease the fresh tap into service.
“There’s a lot of foam on that. Amateur.” Rory snorts.
“Yeah, so this one’s on the house,” I say, topping it up slowly and then placing it in front of Rory.
After that, I have a solid hour of hard labor. But itisa Monday night, and finally the place starts to quiet down.
Rory is a few beers in already. I pour a small drink for myself and lean against the bar to talk to him. “This job is exhausting,” I complain. “Even when they tip well.”
He grins. “Making big bucks? I’ll bet the ladies like that long mane you got.”
“I do okay.”
He snorts. “I bet you do. You always pulled the hot chicks in high school, and I made do with your leftovers.”
“That isnottrue.” Rory was fearless with women when we were young. The pick-up lines that came out of his mouth? I’d always think,That will never work, and then ten minutes later he’d leave the party with the girl hanging on his arm.
“You know, it’s interesting timing you coming back to town right now.”
I’m getting tired of hearing that. And I don’t like the unhappy gleam in my old friend’s eye. “You mean because of you and Leila?”
“Well, duh.” His expression grows even surlier. “You always had a thing for her.”
