We all got to work shaking together the premixed holiday-themedcocktails and laying out the small gingerbread cupcakes Sutton had baked. As we got the bar ready, every now and again, I would look up and catch Lee staring at me, smiling wildly and watching me work.?
“That boy has it bad for you,” Jordan said, leaning in to me as we lined up the small, plastic cups along the bar. Every ticket to the trolley tour came with a sample-sized glass of a signature drink and a small bite. It was up to the guests whether or not they wanted to stay longer and spend more money. With the Christmas music blaring, and the bar decorated like the North Pole, we had hoped that people would stay for a while.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m marrying his brother. You should know that. You’re officiating it.”?
“As your internet-vested pastor, I have to advise y’all to have at least one more romp in the sheets so you knowexactlywhat you’ll be missing when you shack up with the less-favorable Wilder brother.”?
“That doesn’t sound very pastoral of you, Jordan. Will you pass me that spiced sangria? I’m going to put that out, too.”?
“I’m just saying. Dane’s out of town, Janelle’s out of town, and the man bought you a Christmas tree. Oh, and soon enough, a whole bar.” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk edging into full-on mischievous territory. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to show a little… gratitude?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like prostitution to me, pal.”?
“That’s when it’s a job. And honey, it would be leisure to have that man in the sheets. Trust me.”?
Doyle poked his head around the corner from the storage closet, pretending to be scandalized. “I heard that, Jordan! But he’s not wrong, Magnolia.”?
“Don’t ambush me, y’all. I need to get in a sales-like mind frame to make money tonight, and I am also working on a day buzz. So back off. Wait, before you back off, pass me that whiskey.”?
The first trolley stopped by right on time, and guests flooded in. Their trolley host shuffled them all inside, and while they sipped and snacked, they also heard the history of O’Malley’s Pub and how my family emigrated from Ireland, landing in Savannah.?
“This is Magnolia Pruitt.” The host gestured toward me as I waved awkwardly behind the bar. “She’s a fifth generation O’Malley and the current ownerof the pub. The family has worked diligently to keep it in the O’Malley family tree, and they’re one of the last old, great Savannah families.”?
I gave another flick of my hand to the crowd from behind the bar as the tour guide went on to talk about the Hibernia Society and how the group put together the very first St. Patrick’s Day parade in Savannah.?
“Stay as long as you want,” he called out before heading out the door. “You can get on this trolley and go to the next stop or get on the next one coming by in a few minutes. They’ll be comin’ around all day.”?
Everyone filed out the door and back onto the trolley.
“It’s okay, Maggie,” Lee said, as the crowd dispersed. “It’s early, and this thing runs all day and night. People will come back.”?
As the day dragged on, and we heard the same twenty Christmas songs on repeat, the entire group started to feel defeated. The buzzing energy from the morning slowly drained out of the room, like a balloon with a slow leak, as people came, took one look, and left. Quickly. Even Sutton, decked out in her ridiculous Christmas tree costume, looked like a sad, deflated version of herself—branches drooping and all.
“I have to make a few phone calls,” I lied, rushing off to my office. “Someone come get me if anything exciting happens. Like we actually make a dollar today.”?
I shut the office door and dropped my head on the desk. The door between the green room and my office was slightly open, and I heard someone rummaging around on the other side.?
Slinking out from behind my desk, I tiptoed across the office and quietly peeked through the gap in the door. Lee was in the green room getting his gear together, bending over as he rifled through his guitar case.?
He pulled out the guitar he wanted and strummed a few notes, his fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. I watched him move around the room, jeans hugging his body just right, the light gray t-shirt pulling across his muscular arms. The sight of him so at ease with his music made it hard to look away.
A flutter of nervous energy shot through me, and I was probably drooling a bit. Dane was handsome, but Lee was the total package. His eyes were broody and blue, and his body was perfect. Tight, lined muscles ran up and down his arms and the way he poured himself into his jeans made what was going on inmyjeans do a little jig.?
My heart hammered out of my chest at the thought of what was underneath his clothes. I knew. I remembered.?One didn’t quite forget something like that.?
I leaned against the bookshelf behind me, only to hear a crack as a shelf gave way, sending picture frames and inventory logs tumbling to the floor.?
“I’m going to play for a bit and see if that will make people stick around,” Lee called out from the other side of the door. “You’d make a horrible spy, by the way.”?
A flush of warmth crept across my chest as I scrambled to pick up what had gotten knocked over, hoping he hadn’t come through the door. As I bent over, my shirt rode up my back and my jeans dipped down below my hips.?I heard a soft moan behind me, and my lady bits started up an old, familiar dance.
“Let me help you,” he said, crouching down next to me. Our eyes locked for a moment, and the air in the room changed from embarrassing to electric. My gaze landed—and stayed—on his lips, and his on mine.
I coughed, fumbling to my feet with a handful of beer catalogs in my hands. “Can I help you set up?”?
He shook his head and came up toward me so that the front of our bodies lined up, barely touching. He put the logs he had in his hand behind me, pressing me up against the cold metal of the desk. Our arms grazed, and my entire body shivered.?He leaned in and his lips ran over my ear, and I let out a small, startled gasp that slowly melted into a moan. “Any requests, Maggie?”?
I let my head fall back, exposing my neck as if offering it on a platter. The memory of his touch flooded back, and I could almost feel his tongue tracing the vulnerable skin, igniting a shiver that ran down my spine. It was like the past was messing with me, blurring the lines between then and now.
