Lexy moves through the tables with a tray in her hands, careful, too careful, like she’s thinking through every step before she takes it.
Her hands are shaking.
I watch her for a second too long.
She’s going to drop that.
I almost say something, almost tell her to slow down, to take a breath, but I don’t get the chance.
The tray tips.
Pints hit the floor, foam and glass exploding across the tiles loud enough to turn every head in the room.
Stephen lets out a low chuckle. “That’s coming out of your tips.”
My jaw tightens hard enough it aches.
She’s already moving, dropping to her knees, cleaning it up without a word, like she expects it, like she’s used to paying for mistakes before anyone even asks her to. Her fingers tremble asshe scrubs at the mess, moving too fast, like speed will make it disappear.
She swallows, glancing up at me. “I… I can do this.”
There’s something in her voice that catches, thin but stubborn, and it hits harder than it should.
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair as I grab a towel and toss it down beside her without a word before stepping back again.
Damn it.
She’s not giving up.
And that makes it worse.
I shake my head and turn away. The last thing I need is a problem I can’t fix.
By the time I look back again, the mess is gone.
No broken glass. No spilled beer.
Just her.
Back on her feet, moving between tables like nothing happened, like she didn’t just hit the floor ten minutes ago. Slower now. Careful in a different way. Controlled.
Pushing through it.
“She’s not off to a great start, boss,” Stephen says beside me, his voice low, amused. “But she’s cute. Customers will love her.”
I follow his line of sight before I can stop myself.
Lexy’s at a table, leaning forward slightly as she wipes it down, completely unaware of the way Stephen’s looking at her.
Something sharp twists low in my chest.
“Don’t,” I say, my voice flat. “No dating or sleeping with staff. You know the rules.”
Stephen huffs out a laugh. “Pity.”
He doesn’t stop looking at her. “Guess I’ll wait until you fire her. Won’t take long anyway.”
My hand curls against the bar, fingers pressing into the wood.
