So what was different now?
“You could probably go now,” Charlie said to Miles. “You don’t need to stick around for this bit. I can handle it.”
Miles looked relieved. “Oh really? You sure?”
His mild offer sounded barely sincere. He was an awesome bartender, and the customers loved him. He rarely missed a shift but always seemed to wiggle out of end-of-shift duties. The man hated cleaning.
It was a small price to pay for a reliable bartender.
“Yeah, go ahead. Ally doesn’t want to stick around for this.” He winked at her.
She blushed.
Now I was extra confused.
Charlie looked over at me, and I realized I stood in the middle of the floor just watching this play out like it was a sitcom. Oops.
I turned around and walked straight into the kitchen, hoping nobody noticed my odd reaction.
Case and Joey were hard at work scrubbing and sorting all the things. The after-hours music had been cranked up, and, with the constant clatter of kitchen things, I could hardly hear myself think. The cacophony was a gift. It drowned out my crazy thoughts and Charlie confusion.
Holing myself up in the office, I got to work on the managerial duties I was hired for. I was maybe more vigilant with the schedule than I needed to be at two thirty on a Saturday morning. But I was willing to ride out the night in a flurry of work and productivity until everyone else had left the building.
Eventually the sounds in the kitchen settled to a dull roar. And then to almost perfect silence. Both Joey and Case stopped by my office at separate moments to tell me good night. Then there was finally glorious peace.
I unburied myself from paperwork, powered down my computer, and systematically shut down the bar. I started at the back of the kitchen and checked the lock—I would be going out this door, but I didn’t want to leave it open while I turned off the lights in the front.
I double-checked that all the kitchen equipment was off. Case and Joey were good at their jobs and genuine professionals, but I could be neurotic. Also, there was no reason to assume even professionals didn’t mess up sometimes. Or forget. I’d rather not burn down the building with Will and Lola upstairs just because I was too lazy to check some off switches.
Okay, even as I thought it, I knew that was something only neurotic people thought. But still. I made solid points.
Ahem.
Pushing through the kitchen door—
“ARGH!” I screamed.An intruder is robbing us! Oh no, wait. Not an intruder. Just a spoiled owner up past his bedtime.
He turned his head, barely. “It’s just me.”
“I thought you left,” I panted breathlessly, pressing down over my heart to keep it from leaping out of my body. “You scared me.”
Half his mouth ticked up in a smile. “I can see that.”
Two full shot glasses were set out in front of him. Suddenly, I had the horrifying realization that he’d sent Ally home because he had another date stopping by. Which was totally within his right since he owned the bar.
But oh my God.
I felt like throwing myself under a high-top table to hide from his mystery date. The last thing I wanted was to be accused of cock-blocking Charlie English.
“What are you doing?” I asked before I did something dramatic like tuck and roll into the kitchen.
“Come have a drink with me.”
Who? Me?My tired, exhausted, neurotic brain couldn’t comprehend his sentence. I jumped into fight-or-flight mode, trying to talk my adrenaline down from the firehose pressure it was spraying into my blood.
Get it together, Ada.
He looked up, hitting me with the full force of his Charlie charm. “Come on,” he coaxed with a grin. “It was a good night. Nobody went to the hospital, and everyone went home happy. We made a lot of money. Come celebrate with me.”
