“Hey, I don’t judge. I’m from a small town,” I remind, even though I’m certain he’s well aware, considering he was here one of the days my dad and Jameson made the trip here to help me with the barstools.
I think Guy was a little starstruck when it came to having two of the four owners of the well-known Burgers and Brew in house for the day. Guy took full advantage, talking to them both about the industry and what’s changed over the last couple of decades. When my dad left, he hugged me tightly and seemed incredibly grateful once more I have a seasoned team behind me that’s both knowledgeable and have my back.
The front door opens and in walks my additional bartender for the night. Collin looks…good. Too good, if I’m being honest. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that molds to his arms and sports the logo for my business on the front, jeans that make me want to cry as I mentally peel them off his legs, and well-loved workboots. His hair is freshly cut, but his jaw is left a little rough, as if he hasn’t found time to shave in the last day or two.
“Hey,” he says, slipping behind the bar and offering greetings to the regulars. When he reaches where we stand, he stops and takes a look around. “Wow, this place looks great.”
A grin spreads across my lips. “Thanks. I love how the floors turned out,” I reply, knowing Collin hasn’t worked since we refinished them.
“I love it. It still looks rustic but…cleaner.”
I chuckle and nod. “Yeah, I think I removed four decades of spilled alcohol off them.”
“At least,” he replies with his own snicker. Taking in the tables, he adds, “Full house tonight?”
“Yep. I can’t believe the first class filled up so fast with twenty. Some of the names on the list I don’t know. They must have signed up when I wasn’t here,” I say, remembering the handful of names I didn’t recognize.
Something flashes in Collin’s blue eyes, but whatever it is vanishes quickly when the door opens and we all turn our attention that way. In walks his sister and her two friends I have yet to meet.
“Hey!” Charli hollers the moment she steps inside. “Oh my God, look at this place! These floors are killer!” she bellows, heading our way.
“Thank you,” I reply, again, grinning ear to ear.
“I don’t know if you’ve met Lila and Sommer. Lila is the best nail tech in the area and works at the salon with me, and Sommer is my sister from another mister. We’ve been besties since kindergarten. Ladies, this is Lizzie, the new owner of our favorite establishment.”
I greet the two new faces in front of me and welcome them to paint night. “Go ahead and pick your spots. Anita should be backany minute,” I tell them, referring to the woman who is going to conduct tonight’s paint class.
Just then, the door opens and in walks the woman herself. Anita is the art teacher at the local high school and incredibly easy to work with. She presented me three painting options for tonight, and I picked a wagon wheel and lilacs in an open field. Of course, if someone wanted to paint a different flower, they’re more than welcome. That’s one of the things I like about Anita. She seems very easygoing and willing to allow the painters a little freedom with the design. I’m really hoping tonight’s class goes well and the attendees enjoy her, because I can definitely see a continued partnership in the future.
“Hi, ladies,” Anita greets, approaching with a smile and a paint smock. “Are you ready to paint?”
“We are,” Charli replies.
“Everyone else should be arriving soon. Go ahead and get a drink and help yourself to some of the snacks,” I tell the small group.
I have my food handler certification, thanks to my time at my family’s restaurant and bar, and after meeting with the health department, I was granted a food certificate and all other necessary documentation in order to serve food at The Tipsy Lizard. Right now, my plan isn’t to do anything big, but to be able to offer things like appetizers during the events I plan is a huge plus.
Collin moves behind the bar and jumps right in to serving drinks. Some are alcoholic and some are not. I’m featuring a Blueberry Smash nonalcoholic drink this week, which is a combination of blueberries, simple syrup, sparkling water, lemon juice, and rosemary. It’s pretty tasty, if you ask me, and I’m happy to see some of the ladies attending tonight order one.
Just as I turn to check on the food, the front door opens again. The group of four who enters has me stopping in mytracks, my mouth dropping to the floor. My eyes burn with unshed tears and the four women I love most in this world rush toward me. “What?—”
“You didn’t think we’d let you host your very first paint night and not attend, did you?” my mom asks, smiling so wide and proud it causes a few of those tears to fall.
Aunt BJ laughs. “I called that hottie behind the bar and asked him to make up four names so you wouldn’t know. We actually got the last four spots.”
“It’s amazing how fast it filled up,” Aunt Madelyn adds, looking around the room as she reaches up and touches the delicate pearls around her neck she always wears. I take a quick glance at her appearance and hold back a smile of my own. She’s in pressed navy slacks and a gorgeous rose-gold blouse with nude ballet flats. This is her dressing down, and the best part is, even knowing she’s likely to get paint on her clothes, she still wears them.
Man, I love her.
All of them.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I tell them, pulling each into a quick hug. “Let’s get you all a drink and then you can claim your spots. I think that far table is still open.”
“You ladies get the drinks. I’ll go reserve the table,” Aunt Lyndee states, moving to where I pointed to claim those four available spots.
“What can I get you?” I ask, slipping behind the bar to get my family a drink.
“I’ll have an All American Crüe draft, please,” Mom requests.
