Two giggled at something the blonde had said and I tried to shove down the pang in my chest. They were about my age, and judging from the expensive outfits and manicured nails, clearly had their lives together. Alright, I had no way of knowing thatfor sure, but I could tell they weren’t stressedabout anything at the current moment. Meanwhile, I was here. A girl struggling to tend bar with an unsteady future. I’d already had more job application rejections than I could count over the past week. It was completely disheartening. I knew the job market wasn’t great right now, but to not even be able to land a phone interview was a huge blow to my already-fragile ego.
“We’ll have three palomas,” the blonde in the pink coat relayed to me, hardly making eye contact.
“Great choice,” I said with a forced smile.
I poured tequila into a shaker, followed by grapefruit soda, then finished making their drinks before running back to the kitchen and dropping off a few orders.
After about another forty minutes, the bar had finally quieted down a little. It was still crowded, but the rush that always happened after the ski hill closed had finally dissipated.
“You’re getting better,” Bev observed, wiping a few glasses and placing them behind the bar.
“That’s kind of you to say, but I know you’re lying.”
Bev tossed her head back and laughed at that, but she didn’t fight me further on it. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she was basically running the restaurant now. Aside from me, there were only a few other bartenders and waiters working here still.
The bell above the door chimed. A few guys in branded Key Ridge ski hill employee jackets walked in. Lifties. A group of them almost always came in after their shifts. I saw one familiar face trailing at the back of their cluster. Even though they were all a few years younger than him, Oliver occasionally joined their group.
Oliver took off his beanie and ruffled his dark waves, before glancing my way. He winked at me, then tossed his stuff onto the table.
We’d only shared a few snippets of conversation since I started working at Marie’s. I’d been so busy either here, or holed up in Mattie’s basement applying to jobs, I hadn’t really gotten out much. But any time Oliver popped into the bar, I could guarantee that he would take every opportunity possible to tease me about my atrocious bartending skills. And, of course, he hadn’t given up on taking me snowboarding. I’d never admit this to him, but I might have relented if not just to see him more. But he’d been slammed with lessons every day, so even if I had agreed, he wouldn’t have been able to take me yet. Instead, I savored the brief, flirtatious moments we shared whenever he stopped by during my shifts.
It was hard to believe we’d shared that kiss. It had been almost two weeks at this point. It was so outside of something I would typically do that I could almost convince myself it had never happened. That is, if Oliver didn’t insist on reminding me of it every single chance he got.
“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Oliver said, stopping in front of me at the bar and propping one elbow up so he could rest his chin in his hand.
“There are other bars on Main Street, ya know?” I said, although I secretly loved his teasing. Seeing him at Marie’s or around the lodge was one of the only bright spots in my life lately. I liked the little surge of butterflies that flapped around in my stomach every time he flirted with me. I enjoyed the prolonged eye contact.
“None with this level of impeccable service.”
I rolled my eyes at that. He was giving me a hard time because the last two times he’d been in, I’d messed up his drink order.
“Hey, I’m getting better,” I insisted. “Plus, last time you were here, it was packed. At least you got a drink.”
He laughed. “You’re right. I suppose I should be grateful you at least managed to shove something into my hands.”
“Exactly.”
Oliver smiled and shook his head. His dark hair curled up behind his ears, probably due to the wetness of the snow. “Can I get four shots of tequila please?”
“Four shots? Are you trying to wind up face down in a snow pile before eight?”
“Ha. Ha,” he said dryly. “They aren’t all for me.”
I poured the shots and set out a tray to put them on, along with already-cut-up lime wedges and a saltshaker.
“Thanks.” He slid his credit card over. “You can keep it open. I’ll be back to bug you.”
“Counting down the minutes,” I said, unable to keep the smile from creeping across my face. Oliver’s good-natured attitude was infectious. The more I got to know him, the more I realized my initial judgment call about him had been correct. He wassonot my type. I doubted he’d ever used the word “ambition” before in his entire life. To him, this lifestyle wasn’t temporary. He’d likely spend the next few decades doing exactly the same thing—jumping from place to place, working seasonal jobs. Not moving up. Staying the same.
But even knowing all that, there was something charming about him, something I found hard to resist. I could act like I didn’t feel anything, but there was no denying the excited nerves that swirled in my gut every time I caught a glimpse of the guy.
The excited swirl in question abruptly stopped and my smile fell when Oliver bypassed the table of guys he’d arrived with and went straight for the table of girls I’d served palomas to earlier. They giggled at something he said as he set down the shots in front of them.
Heat pricked the back of my neck. I knew I should have looked away, but I couldn’t.
I watched as he slid into the empty chair at their table and leaned into the blonde one. Suddenly, all the times he’d flirted with me felt tainted. I’d thought we had something. A mutual interest. A potential friendship. I don’t know. But I thought I had been more special than a table of three random girls he’d spotted out of the corner of his eye. Seeing him wink at them made me certain I wasn’t though.
Damn it.
