Priya snorted. “A dancer in a sports bar?”
“Agaysports bar. There can never be enough bouncing cleavage or swinging Richards.”
She wheezed so loudly I couldn’t understand her words.
I started composing interview invitation emails to the four actual candidates, trying to schedule them all for Saturday afternoon before the evening rush. Morgan could come at two. David at three. Benji at four. Sarah at five.
“Four interviews in three hours,” Priya observed. “That is ambitious.”
“We need someone by next week. Chase asked me out, and I told him I had to figure out staffing first. I can’t take a night off without someone qualified to fill in.”
“Oh my God.” Priya set down her coffee and turned to face me. “You are hiring a bartender so you can go on a date?”
“I’m hiring a bartender because we need another bartender.”
“And because you want to go on a date with thehot lawyer.”
“That’s a silver lining.”
“That is yourentiremotivation and you know it.” She was grinning now. “This is adorable. You are restructuring your entire business plan for a boy.”
“I’m restructuring our business plan because Mark is right—we can’t work seven days a week indefinitely. The Chase thing is just . . . coincidental timing.”
“Sure it is.” She grinned and folded her legs onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them.
I sent the interview invitations and closed my laptop. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I am enjoying it exactly the right amount.” Priya unfolded herself, stood, and grabbed her coffee. “I need to get my day started. Try not to accidentally hire the CIA guy while I am gone.”
“Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you about it. CIA and all.”
She giggled all the way down the hall and into her room. I sat there on the couch, staring at my laptop.
My phone buzzed.
Chase: How’s the hiring going?
Me: I’ve learned that there are people who consider “professional spring breaker” a valid career.
Chase: I’m sorry, a what?
Me: Don’t ask. How’s your day?
Chase: Currently reviewing a prenup for a couple who wants to include custody arrangements for their hypothetical future children, dogs, and cats. The woman mentioned a goat, but her fiancé put his foot down.
Me: And they say we’re causing the decay of marriage?
Chase: Ha. Right. Family law is 90% sorting through painful details and 10% people crying in my office.
Me: That sounds terrible . . . but not too different from being a bartender.
Chase: Wait. I spent years and a hundred grand on law school to study what you learned working in a bar?
Me: Okay, maybe it’s not that similar. LOL. You love it, though?
Chase: It has its moments . . . like when I get texts from bartenders who are hiring professional spring breakers.
Me: I’m NOT hiring the spring breaker.
