Dallas completed his paperwork and wandered down to the bar. They were shorthanded, and he spent the rest of his morning hauling crates from the cellar and pouring beers. Thankfully, a part-timer arrived after lunch because they got slammed in the afternoon.
A roar went up from the customers who were watching the rugby on the big screen.
“Try!” a man shouted, pumping his fist in the air.
Pool balls clacked. A boisterous group of guys in their early twenties pummeled the dart board with more enthusiasm than skill.
“Two beers and a vodka tonic,” a bald man said.
Dallas poured the beers and handed over the drinks, taking a fifty-dollar note in return. He offered the change and moved to the next customer. Repeat and rinse. As the afternoon passed, the rugby enthusiasts who’d braved the rain to watch the match live started arriving at the bar. Euphoric chatter and customers three deep at the bar battered his brain and kept his hands busy.
“We won. I can’t believe we beat the Marlins.” A Napier fan lifted his beer in salute. “To the boys. May they win again!”
Dallas rang up an order, sorted change and looked for the next customer.
“Three beers, please, Mr. Bartender.” The familiar voice made him frown, look harder and a grin burst free. Laura, dressed in a blue and gold beanie with a matching scarf wound around her neck, stood at the bar and waved money at him. Not an ounce of hoity-toity Drummond on display today.
“Hey,” he said, winking at her. “Who’s drinking the other beers?”
“I’m here with James and Steven. James rang about an upcoming function he wants me to attend. When they found out I wasn’t doing anything, they dragged me to the rugby.”
“Did you have fun?”
“I’d never been before.” Laura bubbled with her usual enthusiasm. “We did the Mexican wave and booed at the opposition. The rugby was good too. Nothing better than ogling male butts.”
“As long as mine is included.” Dallas handed her the beers and waved away her money. “No charge because you’re so pretty.” He glanced along the bar and couldn’t resist leaning over to snatch a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yours is my favorite,” she said and picked up the beers, giving him a sassy grin. “Later.”
He stared after her until she was lost amongst the exuberant crowd. James and Steven would look after her, but he wished he wasn’t stuck behind the bar.
Dallas took the next order, working on automatic pilot. Beers. Spirits. Glasses of wine. The odd soft drink or juice for a designated driver. Laura came up for a second round, and despite the audience, he snatched another kiss. He grinned after her before slipping back into routine.
“Jack and cola, please, lover.” The familiar throaty voice made the hair at the back of his neck prickle, and not in a good way.
“Maria. Patrick said you’d dropped by.”
“You didn’t call.”
Dallas shrugged and poured her drink. He placed it on the bar in front of her. She’d had her dark hair cut short in a pixie style. It suited the sharp angles of her face and made her blue eyes look huge. She looked well, sensuality oozing out of every pore, yet he wasn’t tempted.
She took a sip.
“You need to pay for that,” Dallas said, fighting to keep his tone level.
“Oh? You never used to charge me for drinks.”
“Times change.”
After a silent battle of wills, she pulled a ten-dollar note from her pocket.
“You don’t charge everyone,” she said, and his gut ran cold. Apparently, she’d been here for a while, scoping the territory.
“My pub. My business,” he said, slapping the change on the counter in front of her. Without another word, he moved to the next customer.
“Hi,” he heard Maria say to a man sitting at the bar. “How are you doing? Did you go to the game?”
When he turned back, Maria sat on the barstool. She spent the next hour flirting with Mr. Gullible and watching Dallas work the bar. Irritation simmered in his gut as he served her another drink, this one paid for by Mr. Gullible. What game was the woman playing? He didn’t want her, wasn’t interested. Not even tempted.
