Behind the desk, Pete sat in one of the tall stools, twisted slightly to protect his back. He looked deeply offended by gravity.
“I told her I’d be fine in a few minutes,” Pete grumbled. “Just needed a second.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago,” Nora replied.
“I’m still in my prime. I’ll be just fine.”
Liam stepped behind the bar and took in the situation. I peered over the bar top to see the chaos. Tools spread out. Paneling removed. A partially installed filtration unit sitting beneath the counter, lines disconnected, fittings exposed. The ice bin lid open. Towels already on the floor.
“You should have waited,” Liam said calmly.
Pete waved a dismissive hand. “I didn’t need a babysitter.”
“You needed leverage,” Liam said.
Pete muttered something about youth being wasted on the young.
Then Pete and Nora noticed me for the first time.
Nora’s lips curved into a sly smile, and Pete’s expression shifted from pain to mischief.
“Well,” Nora said, dragging the word out. “Look who decided to supervise.”
“I’m not supervising,” I replied smoothly. “I’m observing.”
Pete laughed and winced immediately. “You brought Checklist.”
I leaned an elbow on the bar. “I find messing with Liam is becoming my new favorite hobby. And explain. Checklist?”
He grinned. “You ordered drinks alphabetically and kept a running total in your head.”
“That is called competence.”
“You corrected another woman’s tip math while you were taking a shot.”
“She was wrong.”
“You asked where the fire exits were.”
“I like knowing my options.”
Liam went very still. Pete leaned back, looking delighted. “Checklist. Welcome back.”
I folded my arms. “You are perilously close to losing potential future tips.”
He shrugged. “Worth it.”
From behind the bar, Liam muttered, “You clocked her.”
I slowly turned toward him. He didn’t look up.
Traitor.
“I’m going to make myself useful,” Liam said.
“By all means,” I replied. “Please proceed.”
Nora squeezed my arm as she passed. “If water starts flying, duck.”
