Duke
‘I’d rather chew through a jean jacket,’ I deadpan at Montana as I pour the cocktail I’d just been whipping up into four tall glasses with precision.
‘Oh, Duke, come on,’ she whines, stamping her foot. ‘The bar could use a bit of a shake up, get some new customers in here for once.’
My eyes roll by their own accord. I like the customers we already have, and they like the way I run the bar. Why change things when everyone’s happy?
‘I still don’t thinkspeed datingis the solution.’ I reach for the cherries in a nearby tub and hang a couple over the rim of each glass, adding the finishing touch to my signature cherry-flavoured porn star martini. ‘Everyone knows everyone in Willow Ridge already. An extra two minutes talking to the quarterback from high school ain’t gonna magically make them more interesting.’
With a saccharine smile I place the cocktails on the tray in front of Montana and nod towards the table offour middle-aged women getting shockingly drunk for a Wednesday afternoon. Happy hour doesn’t even start for another few hours. So far, they’ve toasted to the signing of a divorce, to sexual freedom, and to all of them findingboy-toys, the latter resulting in the lady dressed in nothing but leopard print winking at me as she gulped down her third cocktail. I might have offered a shy smile had she not been the mom of one of my football teammates in high school. Instead, I had to suppress a shiver.
But this just proves my point – we have plenty of interesting customers already.
‘Ugh,’ Montana huffs, rolling her eyes, before spinning around and stomping off. She mutters to herself, ‘Sue me for trying to bring some excitement into our boring small town.’
My eyes suddenly catch on Cherry, who’s cleaning one of the tables nearby and struggling to bite down on her grin, clearly having listened in on the whole conversation. I narrow my eyes at her when she glances up, her cheeks reddening. Not as dark as her lipstick though, the same deep purply-red as the cocktails Montana just carried away.
Making sure my gaze doesn’t linger too long, I quickly turn to grab another bottle of beer for Billy, a sixty-something who always comes in after babysitting his grandkids on Wednesday mornings. Usually, he’s chewing my ear off, telling me every little thing the troublesome twins do, but today, he seems far too interested in the divorce party across the room. He doesn’t so much as give me a thanks as I slide his bottle across the bar to him.
Part of me is glad he’s found something else to beexcited about, but I do kind of miss getting to hear his story. Listening to the locals is one of my favourite things about this job. It’s how people know me – I’m the one they can always come to, that they can always count on to be around.
I’m not sure if I could ever give that up.
That’s why I should turn down that offer that’s been on my mind. The one I still need to reply to, but for some reason, can’t quite seem to say no to yet. Or yes.
It’s not long before Montana is marching back, determination hardening her features, and she hooks her arm around Cherry, dragging her over to the bar too. They exchange whispers as they approach. Taking a step back and leaning against the counter behind me, I cross my arms, awaiting the next round of arguments.
‘Cherryalsohappens to think we should do the speed dating,’ Montana explains, nudging Cherry with her hip.
I just wave my hand in a rolling motion to say,go on then.
‘Itison my bucket list,’ Cherry admits, nibbling her thumbnail.
Something shiny paints a glittery slice across the tops of her cheekbones – a new kind of makeup she’s started wearing, I think. The neon signs and twinkling fairy lights keep reflecting off her cheekbones, making my fingers itch to grab a napkin and pen so I can draw her, emphasising the raised glow and delicate, shadowed hollow of her cheeks.
‘Wait a second.’ Montana leans an elbow against the bar. ‘Dukeknows about the bucket list?’
‘Um—’ I start to explain.
‘He’s, uh, supposed to be helping me with it too,’ Cherry confesses, tucking her hair behind her ears as she avoids my gaze.
Supposed to? I thought I’d already started with the roller-skating. Though, it’s not like I didn’t notice the way her face dropped when she discovered I’d cowardly invited the rest of our crew along, instead of being left alone with her beyond the realms of the bar. Man am I glad I had the others there as some sort of buffer though, especially when Cherry went flying into me and I had no option but to press my thigh between hers to keep us both from toppling to the ground after spinning her around. Feeling her roll her hips against me when we were so close, hot breath mingling in the little space between us, had me forgetting for a second that we weren’t alone.
And then scolding myself for even thinking about these things. I’m sure it’s just a symptom of loneliness, but still. My manhood got the brunt of the fall that happened seconds later, but I probably deserved it.
Even so, I don’t like knowing I might have disappointed her.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ Montana smiles, shaking her head at Cherry. But then her eyes suddenly flash bright and wide. ‘Woah, does that mean he’s helping you with—’
‘The first half!’ Cherry shrieks, cutting her off as that rosy blush spreads further down her neck and chest. She explains again, nodding at me for further confirmation, ‘Onlythe first half.’
Wanting to reiterate such for everyone,especiallyCherry, I repeat, ‘Right, only the first half.’
Montana holds up her hands, eyes flicking between thetwo of us with one brow slightly perked. ‘Okay, well, in that case, Duke, you have to agree to the speed dating.’
‘Not sure I do.’
‘But it’s on Cherry’s bucket list.’ Montana presses, then throws her arm around Cherry’s shoulders. She pats Cherry on the cheek, making her giggle, the sound sending a zap of dopamine to my heart. ‘Don’t you want her to be happy?’
