I nod. “I’ve watched Cassie do it a multitude of times. One night, I had to tally up the drawer myself. Cassie had to run out for only a couple hours. Her son wound up in jail, again.”
He breaks his hold, bringing up a hand to rub his jaw. His face is unshaved; he looks, troubled or maybe just tired.
Moving with the grace of a predator, he rests his hands on either side of my spot at the bar. Leaning forward, he’s mere inches from me. I can’t help but notice one of his knuckles looks bruised, with new small cuts and scrapes around the knuckles. Should I ask? That’s really not my business. His gaze on me feels heated, but what he says next doesn’t match how he looks at me.
“There’s not much left besides making the schedule and delegating. If you see someone not pulling their weight in one area, rotate them. They won’t always like it, but I’ve got a business to run, not friendships to keep.” I jot down a couple of notes as he talks. “Don’t sweat it! You're going to do great tonight!”
Why does everyone keep telling me to relax in different ways? Do I really seem to be wound that tightly? “Wait… you’re not going to be here?”
He looks down at me, and I feel my face warming under his intense stare. God, he’s handsome. “No, little fish. I won’t. My father just flew in, and we have some catching up to do. Connor will be here all night, though.”
I shake my pen between my fingers while I think. “What about those two guys you're always with?”
His eyebrow lifts in response. “Who? Garron and Dax? No, they’ll be with me. It’s a slow night; you shouldn’t run into any trouble. If you do, find Connor. He’s a tough cookie.”
I nod. Understanding that ‘I’m covered but also feeling a little nervous about being in charge. I’m not as tough as Cassie,nor am I as knowledgeable about what it takes to run a place like this.
He takes my hand, causing the pen to tumble to the bar top and gently rests a warm kiss upon my knuckles. I’m ensnared by this man’s proximity. His eyes are such a lovely green. “When you get back from the Catskills, I have our first date all planned.” Although the bar separates us, it feels extremely intimate. I’m sure my face is already bright red.
“I look forward to it.” I just manage to sputter as Connor clears his throat, emerging from the back swinging door.
“Can I take her for a bit? I wanted to go over the scheduling software with her on the computer?”
Eamon releases my hand just before folding his arms again. His eyes fixated on me as I gather my things and follow Connor to the back. I may need to climb inside of the ice machine, just to extinguish the burn from that man’s energy.
Connor is a wealth of information; I feel bad for pinning him asonly a barbackover the time I’ve worked here. He not only knows what needs to be ordered each month, but he even knows the banking info and safe combination. After he walks me through the scheduling software, he places a set of keys with a clover keychain attached in front of me.
“Any questions?”
I’m sure I had at least twenty, but he covered everything. I also didn’t want to be a bother when he had already taken time away from his tasks to help me.
“Great! Jada and Brittany are in tonight. Oh, yeah… we also hired two new girls to help out when you're gone. They’ll continue through the holiday season too.”
Jesus! It hasn’t even been twelve hours?! I guess when you run a popular watering hole like The Black Sheep, you have back up. Maybe the bar isn’t so different from the grocery market. There’s always someone to take your place when you don’t showup. Would they replace me if I didn’t do a good enough job at managing things while Cassie is away? I wasn’t sure which was worse, working my first shift as acting manager with my once equals or supervising two new hires? I don’t want to fuck this up and have everyone hating me by the end of the night.
“Go get some lunch, then get back here so we can go over bar licensing.”
Eamon is already gone by the time I emerge from the backroom.
Two blocks over, I find a short line at a deli counter that has one of the best pastrami on rye sandwiches this side of Boston. I need brain fuel before I continue with mylearning to manage a bar in less than twenty-four hourscrash course.
The line moves fairly quickly, a man in a hoodie in front of me and two ladies arguing about wearing white after Labor Day just behind. Sandwich in hand, I shuffle over to the counter to pay. I grab a black and white cookie beside the register before fishing my wallet out.
“All taken care of,” the man in the stained apron informs me. Then proceeds to motion for the chatty women to come forward.
“Wait. I’m sorry… you said it’s taken care of? Like someone paid for my food? Who?” I step aside, making room for the ladies to move up, as the man smashes keys on the register.
“One of those pay-it-forward folks. He was just in front of you.”
I grab the paper bag holding my lunch order and rush out to the busy street. Looking each way, I see no sign of the hooded figure. I had no one to thank at that moment, but I had a feeling I knew who the stranger was.
Just outside The Black Sheep, I devour my sandwich. I decide to save the chocolate side of the dinner-plate sided cookie for, after Connor was through info dumping about things I never intended to learn. I will need the sugary pick-me-up!
My notebook sits on my lap as I flip through pages of chicken scratch and bolded reminders about this new position. Connor is a great teacher, and he knows a lot about The Black Sheep. I am curious as to how he is such a wealth of knowledge for being a barback. Maybe all the employees who have tenure learn these things.
I was prepared but not PREPARED. To be honest, I was a mess internally. Questioning whether or not Eamon has made a mistake, asking me to step in as manager, and also when will Cassie be back? With a nearly full notepad, learning too much about negotiating supplier contracts, and proper safety regulations, my brain was fried! I treat myself to the dark side of the cookie, while Connor is in the alley, pressure cleaning the floor mats before opening.
I am just finishing my treat before Jada and Brittany enter together. I wave while attempting to choke down the last bite; however, they don’t wave back. Instead, I am met with a tight-lipped smile from Brittany, and Jada didn’t even bother to look my way. They make their way to the backroom, carrying on as if I am not even in the room. I pocket my notepad and join my coworkers in the backroom, secretly hoping this wasn’t the beginning of an ugly working environment.
