“Same,” BJ adds.
“I’ll have a white wine, and Lyndee would like that Blueberry Splash you’ve been promoting on social media,” Madelyn orders.
I turn to pour the beers from our newly installed draft system, which now features the two most popular varieties fromour brewery, and then set out to pour a white wine and make the nonalcoholic drink. I place the drinks on the bar and wave off the card presented.
“No, you’re not giving us free drinks,” my mom chastises, thrusting the card farther toward me.
“You’re not paying. Not tonight. Tonight is…special. A celebration.” I don’t know why I’m so choked up. I can barely get the words out. Having them here, it’s everything.
“We’ll see about that,” Mom announces as she slips her card back into her pocket and grabs her beer.
I roll my eyes. “There are snacks back on the table.”
“Well, hello, lovely lady. You must be this one’s sister,” Gus says smoothly, making my mom chuckle.
“Mother, actually.”
“I don’t believe it. You’re too young to have a daughter her age,” Gus practically sings.
“Stop hitting on my mom, Gus,” I demand without any fire behind my words.
He gasps, “Would I do that?”
Collin, who happens to walk up to grab the bottle of white wine sitting directly in front of me, says, “Of course you would. Probably to get some of those snacks.”
I bark out a laugh. “I already told you I made extras for you guys. No need to hit on my mom just to get a plate of food.”
“Well, I heard that, Gus. Come on with me and we’ll get some food,” my mom states, taking her beer over to the table and setting it down before making her way to the food table.
Gus jumps up off his stool, as do Larry and Burt, and moves in that direction.
“They don’t pay,” I say to Collin as I watch my aunts take their drinks to the table and then go make a plate of the snack food.
“You’re the boss,” he replies, pouring his glass of wine. “Need this still?”
“Nope, I’ll put it away,” I reply, taking the bottle and replacing the topper before slipping it inside the cooler. When Collin finishes his order, he turns his attention my way, so I add, “Thank you.”
“For?”
I nod to where my mom and aunts are having a seat at the table, their plates full of snacks as they prepare for tonight’s painting class. “Them.”
He shrugs. “Hey, I just made up fake names so you wouldn’t know it was them,” he replies with a chuckle. The gravelly timbre of his voice sends waves of something dirty straight to the apex of my legs and makes my nipples tight.
“Well, it was the best surprise.”
“Good. And the smile on your face was worth it.”
I look his way, still grinning. An electrical charge seems to fill the space around us, sucking all available oxygen from the room. Everything and everyone just fades away. It’s as if we’re the only two people left remaining in the world. It’s both exhilarating and scary all at the same time.
“I, uh, better go check the food,” I reply, clearing my throat. Glancing at the bar and finding the regulars enjoying a heaping plate of snacks, I add, “I made plenty. Probably too much. Help yourself.”
He nods once and keeps his eyes glued to me. “Thanks.”
I slip away and check everything on the table. I made a large crockpot of meatballs, as well as a charcuterie board of meats, cheeses, crackers, dips, fruits, and nuts. Plus, a variety of desserts I purchased from the bakery inside the grocery store. All in all, I know I overdid it, but I wanted to make sure I had enough. Once I have the first event under my wing, I’ll be able to plan a little better for the next one.
But something tells me there won’t be as much left as I think. Most of the ladies are snacking, but I imagine they’ll restock their plates as the night goes on. Not to mention the guys at the bar and Collin. I had planned for them to snack too, even if they aren’t attending paint night. They’re still paying customers, and I’d never tell them they couldn’t have something I was serving to other guests in the same building.
At exactly six o’clock, Anita starts her class. I stand off to the side and watch as she goes through the steps of creating tonight’s painting. There’s a completed one at the front of the room, and she’ll be painting another along with her twenty students. All I can do is watch it happen.
