"Jud!"
3
Judson
Skyler fucking West. The one person I was hoping I wouldn't run into.
I brace myself against the kitchen sink.
The cook ignores me. I'm not his favorite person right now. It's only my second day, and I've already accidentally pissed him off by asking about his knife when I noticed the irregular size of his chopped onion.
Who knew he'd get so offended? I’m pretty sure he only needs to sharpen the knives, and it would make a hell of a difference. It's not like I was criticizing his knife skills. I mean, I could have, but I didn't.
The other bartenders walk past me, holding plates stacked with potato chips, maple pigs, and mixed olives.
It's a busy Friday night, and even if it's not the kind of busy I'm used to, I don't want to let my boss or my colleagues down.
My boss, Tanner, is a man of few words. Fortunately for me, that's a language I'm fluent in. Try working in the kitchen of a French restaurant, and you soon find out words are at a premium. Unless you manage to let the béarnaise sauce curdle right in the middle of a busy evening service. In that case, you find yourself questioning all of the life decisions that led you to be on the receiving end of the head chef's anger.
"Hey, you okay?" Molly asks. This is my first shift with her. She's nice, but I don't know how she got the job because she must be the worst bartender I've ever met.
Not that I'm one to talk when I've just broken a glass, not to mention my total lack of knowledge of the local craft beers and ales the bar serves.
I'm good with wine, though, which I guess is the reason Tanner hired me since that was the first question he asked me when I enquired about the part-time vacancy.
"Don't worry about the glass," Molly says when I don't reply. "I break one at least every few days, and that's when I don't drop a whole tray. I swear Rainn will kill me one day."
"Who?" I ask.
She waves her hand. "He's not in tonight, but you'll meet him soon."
"If I don't lose my job first." I laugh.
"Nah, you'd have to screw up more than I do, and that's very unlikely. Although you should probably get back out there. It's pretty busy."
She leaves me, and not a moment later, I hear the sound of broken glass followed by Molly apologizing.
It's like she tries so hard to be a better bartender, but everything around her conspires against it.
I heard someone say she's an amazing singer, so maybe we have a lot more in common than a tendency to break a glass.
We're both in jobs we're not suited to while our dreams are out there being crushed.
If she tells me she also has a dickhead ex, then I might just adopt her as my new best friend.
Speaking of which…
I take a deep, steady breath.
I need to go back to the bar before I get in trouble and not even all the wine knowledge I hold in my head will save me.
Straightening my black shirt, I raise my head and prepare to get back to work. Who knows, maybe this was all a figment of my imagination, and I didn't really see Skyler looking all tall and grownup on the other side of the bar.
It's not like I'd know what he looks like now, anyway. So it's probably—definitely—all in my head.
Then how did he know your name?
I tell my brain to shush and go back to the bar.
