“That’s what I’ve heard. Keep it up,” says Michael. The way he’s studying her, as if she were a math equation, makes Taylor feel like he knows more about her than he’s letting on. Did he somehow uncover her nursing background? Is he the one behind the note?
“I’ll try.”
“Great. I’ve no doubt you will. Rose, a word, please,” he says, and Rose follows him out into the hall.
Taylor begins gathering ketchup bottles from the tables and carrying them to the bar, to be refilled from a giant jug of ketchup.
“I’m trying,” Liam says in a high-pitched voice, imitating her. She shoots him a dirty look across the bar.
“Relax, New Girl, I’m joking.” He polishes a glass.
She gathers more ketchup bottles, careful to avoid the corner of the room where Eduardo and Jerry stand in a deep conversation. Jerry’s holding his head, like he’s upset; Eduardo lays a gentle hand on his back.
When she brings the additional ketchup bottles to the bar, Liam says, “They’re having a lover’s quarrel, probably.”
“Oh?” So thereissomething between Eduardo and Jerry.
“Either that, or O’Doyle’s pissed because Oliver’s back.”
“Jerry holds grudges, huh?”
“Yeah.” Liam holds a glass up to the light, checking for smudges. “But Jerry’s not the only one less than pleased with Oliver.”
“No?”
“No. Some people around here don’t care for him.” He returns the glass to the shelf and picks up another.
“Why?” Taylor recalls Oliver’s long, greasy hair. The high-as-a-kite conversation they had earlier on in the kitchen. “I mean, other than the obvious.”
Liam pauses, and when he replies, he does so in a low voice.“Oliver wants to bring the Knox back a few decades, centuries maybe, to how it once was. In fact, it’s already underway.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Well, New Girl, that’s…for another time. But, not everyone agrees with this direction.”
A rift. This makes sense. She can feel it, she thinks. She didn’t her first week, but here, today, she does. It’s a slow-building tension: the minute hand rather than the second hand ticking around the clock. Maybe, in fact, she misinterpreted the charge in the air. Maybe it’s tension.
“Rose seems to like Oliver,” Taylor points out.
Liam gives a short, sarcastic laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, Rose likes the Knox. And Oliver’s about to officially assume the reins at the initiation, so…”
“Gotcha. So what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About Oliver, about the direction the Knox is going in? All of it, I guess?”
Liam’s mouth twists into a slow, unreadable smile. “I think we do what we have to do.”
Taylor notices his use of “we.” Liam is a bartender here, not a member. But perhaps this is the difference between her and her coworkers. Theydofeel like a part of the Knox; it’s their place of employment, yes, but it’s also their life. They date each other; some even live next door. It’s like a cult. Besides, she reminds herself, Liam is no ordinary bartender; Peter brought him over from England.
“Why don’t you live next door, with the others?” she asks, suddenly.
“I used to, but I like my space. I live at Harbor125 in East Boston. It’s not as convenient as living next door, but I wouldn’t trade it. You live alone?”
“Yeah,” she admits, and immediately wishes she hadn’t.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
