1
BOWEN
I’m not sure heaven and hell actually exist, but if they did, I have vague ideas of what my version of each would be. My heaven would be a perpetual warm, balmy, summer night. Like the one at seventeen, when I lied in the tall grass on the hill behind my mother’s garden, eating strawberries off the vine, staring at the stars and telling my sister about my first kiss, with a boy. Hell… well, that would be working at Vino and Veritas. Because it seems to be something that, no matter how hard I try, I completely and utterly fail at every single night.
I’ve only been employed for eight days, and worked four of them, and I’m pretty certain for Tanner, the manager, it’s been the worst four days of his career at the wine bar. Tonight, which happens to be a bustling Saturday night, he has me on bar back duties. It’s simple, straight-forward work. Make sure the shelves are stocked, the glasses make it back out to the bar after they’ve been washed, and that the condiments — lemon and lime wedges, olives, and maraschino cherries don’t run low. And for the first couple hours, I’m doing fine. Until it’s time to change a keg.
I’ve changed kegs before more than once, at parties in college, and never had an issue. But of course, this isn’t a keg at a dorm or in someone’s kitchen in high school. This is a professional keg, in a professional establishment, which has a whole bunch of shit I didn’t realize need careful consideration when changing a keg. Like the gas and the FOB and the coupler, which it turns out can, on rare occasions, fly off when you don’t have a great grip on it, causing beer to spray everywhere, and the coupler to almost take your eye out.
Hell, I say.
This job is hell.
I get everything under control fairly quickly, but I’m drenched in beer. Molly stares at me, her big eyes filled with empathy. You know it’s serious when Molly is feeling bad for you. I may not have been here long but one of the first things I learned was that Molly is the resident Calamity Jane. A title you would think I was gunning for on purpose at this point.
“Jesus,” Tanner says under his breath when he turns and sees me.
“Everything is fine,” I assure him. “Now.”
“Except you can’t exactly keep working while dripping beer everywhere,” Tanner walks up to me and tilts his head. “You have beer foam in your hair.”
“Shit,” I whisper and touch the side of my head. I yank out the elastic that is trying unsuccessfully to hold my chin length hair back. I sigh and just rub the foam in like it’s mousse, because what choice do I have? A few of the customers sitting at the bar are watching me. Most in shock or horror. Tanner notices and gently guides me back into the private storage area. “Can you run upstairs and ask my husband, his name is Jax, to lend you a T-shirt. And maybe a towel.”
“Yeah. Sure. Sorry,” I say and slink away.
My God, I am not this much of a klutz. What is going on? I immediately head for the stairs, climbing them two at a time because I want to get back to work. I think Tanner is still worried I’m a bit of a slacker because on my very first day my stupid alarm didn’t go off and I was late. It’s more than a little embarrassing having to tell your boss that you overslept on your first day. Especially when that day starts at seven in the evening. I didn’t elaborate further because I thought adding ‘I’ve had insomnia issues ever since my parents were killed in a car accident so sometimes, I fall into coma naps in the afternoon since I don’t always sleep at night’ would be worse than just being late.
After I knock on the apartment door and introduce myself to Tanner’s husband, who is blond and beautiful with a wicked cool accent like the chef at the bar, Jax loans me a plain, dusty gray color T-shirt. It’s a little short because I’ve always had a torso the length of a football field, but it’s passable. I rush back down the stairs, stumbling and cracking my ribs on the railing before landing in a heap at the bottom. I let out a string of obscenities at the bruises I’ll be sporting for weeks but luckily nothing is broken so I get up and hightail it back into the bar. There’s a band playing tonight, which is why it’s busier than normal. They haven’t played here before, but apparently, they’ve got a solid fanbase. There’s even a line outside.
I love live music, but I doubt I’ll get to enjoy it much tonight. I slide back behind the bar with Auden, who gives me a weary smile. “Just cut some lemons,” he says and reluctantly hands me a knife. “Carefully.”
“Sure thing.” I smile back and try not to feel too humiliated. The burly Scot has every right to be weary. Last shift I was opening a bottle of champagne for a customer and the cork blew off and beaned him right in the forehead.
I grab some lemons and tuck myself into a corner on the back of the bar and begin slicing. I manage to cut all the lemons without incident. When I refill Auden’s condiment holder, he looks at me like a proud parent when their kid learns to tie his shoes. So yay, and ouch, to that.
Autumn slides up to the bar just as I’ve decided to tackle loading some clean wine glasses onto the rack they hang from above the bar. Her eyes narrow on my shirt and her round cheeks get rounder as she grins. “That’s not your shirt.”
“Keen observation, fashion police,” I mutter. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on the bookstore side?”
“Shift ended and I thought I would stick around and enjoy the show,” she says, sliding into the last empty bar stool.
“The band is supposed to be good,” I tell her as she pushes her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulders. “They do covers from the seventies and eighties.”
“I wasn’t talking about the band. You’re the show I’m here to watch,” Autumn remarks with a glint in her hazel eyes. “I’m sorry I missed whatever new misadventure has caused you to wear someone else’s shirt.”
I love my only sister, and I know she loves me, but she’s annoyingly gleeful about my inability to handle this job. “I wish you were still underage so I could get you kicked out.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Autumn replies, still smiling brightly. “And Tanner said he would give me a free belated birthday drink.”
She waves at Tanner, who is over by the stage talking with a guy from the band. Tanner waves back and pauses long enough to call out to Auden. “Whatever Autumn wants is on me.”
Then he goes back to discussing something with the band guy, who I can’t help but notice isveryeasy on the eyes. And also, he looks nervous, possibly panicked. He runs a hand through his thick, brown hair and somehow doesn’t mess it up. It’s got height on top while staying very sleek on the sides. If you put him in a leather jacket, he could be an extra inGrease, minus the actual grease. His hair looks silky, not slimy. Even with his thick, straight eyebrows pinched and his blue eyes narrowed, he’s really attractive.
Autumn suddenly snaps her fingers in front of me. “Hello! Did you hear me?”
“No,” I admit.
“I said what do you recommend?” Autumn repeats what she must have said that I tuned out while staring at the hot guy. “I need a drink, remember?”
