My stomach tenses, and I quickly dab my forehead with a napkin, worried about Poppy’s earlier sweating comment. This is the last environment I want Nathan to see me in. I’m flustered. Stressed. And fed up. At this point, it’s making me question whether this job is worth the money.
“Poppy, did you invite them?” I ask in a whisper as the guys move through the crowd towards us.
She dips her chin in a nod. “Evan’s trying out a new nanny for a few hours, so Nathan wanted to get him out of the house.”
Judging by Evan’s face, he wants to throw hands, appearing to be the last place he wants to be. I don’t blame him, though.
“You said it wasn’t going to be busy, Poppy,” Nathan complains, but his eyes land on me, eyebrows hiking up in surprise. “Mae?”
I flatten down my apron. “What can I get you?”
“Why are you working here?”
I notice Amber’s lingering glance. She’s a nice girl—pretty quiet. But she takes her job seriously, and I know she’s seconds away from asking me why I’m talking instead of working when the bar is so rammed.
“I need the money,” I say matter-of-factly, ignoring Nathan's concern. I know bar work is stressful, but during the week, it’s pretty much dead—it’s only because there was a hockey game down the road that it’s now packed.
Nathan presses his lips together in what seems to be worry, but he keeps quiet for the most part, his eyes travelling down my entire length before he snaps them back up.
“Hi, Evan,” I say in an attempt to distract myself.
He nods, his jaw stiff. “Can I get a coffee, please, Mae?”
“Of course.”
There are so many people here that nobody notices Nathan and Evan, especially since their caps shield their faces.
Had I known that caps could act as masks that prevent people from noticing you, I would have bought one and begun wearing it around my mother long ago.
As I serve people, I can feel Nathan’s eyes on me. He’s watching my every move, studying anyone that talks to me. Looks at me. Breathes near me.
He doesn’t touch the water Amber’s placed in front of him, and by the time Jack snaps his fingers at me and says, “Can I get another drink over here?” the bar has quieted down.
Nathan raises his eyebrows and takes a look at Jack. He opens his mouth to speak, but Evan taps at his bicep, stopping him. I imagine he doesn’t want a scene.
“Jack,” I sigh, “I’ve already told you you’ve had enough for tonight. You won’t be getting any more drinks.”
He doesn’t like my reply, and he stares angrily at me, his fingers wrapped around his coffee mug—I gave him one about forty minutes ago to shut him up—so tightly it looks like he’s trying to strangle it. But with his strength, Jack couldn’t strangle a marshmallow. “I’m at this bar every damn day, and you think you can just show up out of the blue and cut me off? I’m the reason this bar is even staying in business, you little bitch!”
“Woah,” Evan calls, scowling.
Nathan immediately stands, the sound of his barstool scraping back rumbling over the soft country music playing from the speakers. He towers above Jack, head tilted and his eyes daring. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Jack’s face flickers with concern, but he doesn’t let up. “You heard me. I’m a paying customer, and it’s within my right to be served a beer when I ask for it. Since when did a woman belong in a bar anyway?” His words slur.
A chuckle slips past Nathan’s lips, but it’s not out of amusement at Jack. The laugh carries an intimidating tone. He places a firm hand on Jack’s shoulder, jostling it slightly. “Alright, here’s what you’re not gonna do, buddy.” His eyes are piercing. “You’re not gonna sit here like some entitled dick, demanding alcohol you clearly don’t need. You’re not gonna make sexist comments about the women who work here, and you’re most definitely not gonna call her a bitch in front of me again.”
Jack’s tongue darts out to wet his dry bottom lip, eyes shifting to Nathan’s large hand that’s still gripping his skinny body.
“Nathan, it’s fine,” I say, placing my hand on his that’s splayed out on top of the sticky bar counter, but as soon as I do, I snap it away, realising we’re surrounded by people who would view the action as unprofessional.
Luckily, it doesn't look like anybody noticed.
I turn to Jack. “I’m not putting up with this crap today, Jack. I may be new to this bar, but I’m not a pushover, and after speaking to me like that, you need to get the hell out.”
He seems shocked at my remark, but after a few seconds and another glare from Nathan, he stumbles towards the door, grumbling under his breath.
“Come back and apologise when you’re ready,” I tell him before he leaves, my eyes narrowed into slits.
