MAKE IT A DOUBLE
By Annabelle Anders
CHAPTER ONE
“Would you likea menu or just something to drink?” Noel spoke to the man’s back. Even so, the greeting flowed easily. She did it hundreds of times a week. She was optimistic that way. Give everybody a smile until they prove they don’t deserve one.
She wasn’t so sure about this guy.
All she could see was his sleek black hair. He had been on his phone for the past ten minutes.
She hated when customers sat down at her bar and ignored her for a phone call. With only twelve barstools, the people sitting in them needed to be spending money– Especially in the off season. Noel drove the forty miles of winding roads every night so that she could try to eke out a living, not because tending bar was such a hoot, much to the chagrin of some of her guests.
It both annoyed and amused her when guys tried to get her to go out drinking with them after her shift.
As if.
As if she wasn’t already exhausted from working behind the bar from four o’clock to midnight, five nights a week. As if she didn’t have a life outside of trying to make a bunch of rich people happy.
Mr. Too-Important-To-Be-Polite sat his phone on the bar, swiveled around, and finally met her eyes.
Holy shit.
The intensity swirling in his gaze caused her brain to cease functioning for all of five seconds. And when her brain froze, she clumsily fumbled the glass she was polishing. It slipped out of her hand, bounced off the register, hit the sink and shattered.
She flinched.
Right next to the ice bin.
“Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!” she breathed the curses through clenched teeth. Of course, she’d not utter them out loud in front of her customer. But now she’d have to burn the ice.
The ticket printer hummed evenly as new orders poured in from her servers.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t want to meet his eyes again. She needed a moment to gather her bearings.
So instead, she turned to the serving station where Rory stood waiting for his drinks. “I need ice.” She addressed the only male server in the house. He nodded and took off for the back, unquestioning. Every server knew that if glass broke anywhere near the ice it had to be burned.
But now she had to talk to that customer again. Taking a deep breath, she turned back and handed him a menu. “Sorry about that.”
Good looking guys made her uncomfortable.
And rude or not, this specimen of manliness was no exception. He was impeccably dressed. Broad shoulders, slim– fit looking. Nearly perfect but for the one lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. He pushed it back in an unconscious motion. Strong sharp features made him look almost aristocratic. But those eyes…
She tossed a napkin in front of him and pretended he’d had no effect on her. “Can I get you a beer?”
He ignored the menu she’d given him earlier and stared at her again. This time she was prepared for it. His black, penetrating stare seemed to see right through her. And then he lifted one corner of his mouth. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or attempting a smile.
“Got an IPA?” Not fair. Even his voice came out sounding sexy. Not quite gravelly, but deep. That perfect pitch that could make a girl’s heart jump.
“Sure.” She grabbed a cold pint glass from the cooler and then pulled the handle before sliding it under the stream. “Did you just get into town today?” she asked the question with her back to him. This was the standard question she asked anyone who didn’t look familiar. If they didn’t want to talk, they’d give her a short answer and then ignore her. If they wanted to talk, this was their opening.
No answer.
She topped off his beer and turned around to set it in front of him. He could have at least acknowledged her question. Oh, well. This wasn’t the rudest behavior she’d experienced from a customer.
His eyes flicked to her chest and then back up again. “You’re bleeding.”
She glanced down and sure enough, a shard of glass had cut her just where her necklace ended. Blood dripped into her cleavage and was pooling in her bra. She grabbed a napkin and held it up against the cut, but recoiled in pain.
