When I see Melody, I holler at her. “Hey, Mel, another tray is ready!”
She grins widely as she sidles up in front of me, fixing a clip in her short hair. “Don’t you love it when it’s like this? It’s hopping!”
I arch a brow, and she laughs.
“Right. Know who you’re talking to.”
I have to say though, I hate busy days a little less now. They don’t grate on me as badly or drain me as easily. Besides, it’s exactly the kind of thing Declan, Piper, and I dreamed of when we planned the remodel. It’s what we wanted.
After Oliver plates more appetizers, Mel whisks away to deliver them to another table.
A group of women rush over to the newly-hung “First Timers” poster we keep by the hall. It was Melody’s idea to make newcomers feel like they’re part of something special and hopefully encourage them to come back. Customers love signing it now. It’s been filling up fast. Tonight might be its last leg. I wonder if she’d be up for designing a “second edition.” They could become collector’s pieces around here. Framed and displayed through the years.
“Can I get a Bloody Mary, please?” a woman asks.
“You got it.”
As I turn around to grab the tomato juice, I notice the lights taped to the shelf holding Graham’s prized pint collection are dancing through the full spectrum of colors.
“Son of a—who changed those?”
Oliver glances over his shoulder, then gives me a guilty expression. “Sorry.”
Yanking the drawer by the register open, I snag the tiny remote and change the dancing lights to a solid green.
“It’s fine if you want to change colors, but no dancing ones. Got it?”
He furrows his brows. “Why?”
“My meds,” I explain. One weird side effect of my new medication is I’ve noticed strobe effects give me killer headaches. But it’s a minor price to pay for feeling like I can live.
Besides, I just hate when they dance. It’s distracting as hell.
After finishing the drink, I smile at the customer. “Here you go. One Bloody Mary.”
The woman beams. “Thanks!”
I pull the drink back just as someone crashes into her from behind. They both squeal in delight as they hug. “You made it!”
“I did. Thanks for the invite.” Her friend turns to look around. “This place is amazing.”
“Isn’t it? We love it.”
Declan’s laugh echoes from the other end of the bar, making Oliver, Piper and I all turn in his direction. He’s talking to Fletcher Rhide, the small business owner who helped renovate our bar. Fletcher treats his workers to drinks on a regular basis, which is good for the business. Declan likes to keep him happy.
I like Fletcher. He’s the kind of guy who would give the shirt off his back to a stranger if he thought it was necessary.
“Someone’s in a good mood tonight,” Oliver says, smirking at Declan.
“Yeah, he loves this shit now,” I say. “How busy we are.”
“Now? He hasn’t always?”
I shrug. “Nah, not always. He changed once he met Seth.”
Oliver’s eyes light up. “Must be a theme with the hot bartenders here, huh?”
I raise a brow.Hot?
