I was immensely aware of her presence in the empty bar.I was incapable of ignoring it lately.Somehow she always smelled like nutmeg and sugar.It was alluring.Maddening.We worked in a sweaty, boozy environment, but sweetness always lingered around her.
At first, I was convinced it was the syrups behind the bar, but no one else ever registered that way to me.Only Tiffany.
Now, I was being tormented by her sigh of pleasure as she dug into the stash of sweets.“You don’t like doing anything by the norm, do you?”I asked.
“Define normal,” she retorted.Touché.
Her lips curled into a smile when I didn’t answer.
“So, that was a bust,” she said.
Indeed.It certainly hadn’t been what I was hoping for.I’d need to take another look at my research.Make some notes.
“I’m surprised you wanted to see it,” she added.
“It’s important to know what the competition is doing.”At her eye roll, I said, “What surprises me is that you didn’t like it.”
This definitely got a reaction.“All that self posturing wank?Fuck no.”Despite myself, a huff of laughter bubbled out of me.
“That’s a little hypocritical, considering your snobbery.”
“You?Are you callingmea snob?”I watched as her body shifted, straightened, coiled like a wild cat preparing to strike.Dangerous.
“Would you prefer the word connoisseur?”I’d meant it as a joke, but she only looked confused, like she wasn’t sure what I was doing.I wasn’t sure I knew for myself.
Damn, she fascinated me.
Despite her elitist attitude towards the drinks she served, it didn’t seem to extend to the competition.In fact, her comments led me to believe that she favored more relaxed environments, as did the way she carried herself.It intrigued me that she was so particular about her cocktails.
I wanted to ask her about it.Despite everything, including my own sense of self-preservation, I wanted to get to know her better.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Getting back to the subject at hand, what would you do if you had to change the décor here?”
She paused, mid chew, looking at me like she was trying to decipher how serious I was being.Mind made, she swallowed and said, “It’s your bar.”
Surprise showed on my face before I could stop it.It was the first time I’d heard her acknowledge that.Which was my only explanation as to why I then offered, “I’d still like your opinion.”
She pulled her hand free of the gummy bag and wiped her hands on her jeans.She really did act like a grown child.Normally, I would have found it distasteful, but on Tiffany, it was oddly endearing.
“Well, obviously, we have to take all this down,” she said, waving to the ceiling.“I’m not sure if you want to box it up and store it or decide with Harry who keeps what.”
I eyed the collection, confused.“I’m sorry?”
“I know it meant a lot to him,” she said as if that made any more sense to me.Why would Harry want a box of random items he’d collected at a garage sale?
Maybe this was something I’d missed while I’d been away.
I nodded, my only recourse when I had no clue what was going on.
“And while the booths are nice, I think it’s probably time for an upgrade.Maybe some couches instead?Velvet or a leather Chesterfield.Something textural.”
Interesting.I’d had the same thought.It would open the room up, allow seating for more customers, and couches would be a good alternative.
Maybe working together wasn’t going to be a disaster.
“Of course, we’ll need somewhere for the frozen margarita machine and the roulette wheel.”
I blinked slowly and counted to ten.
