Page 58 of Every Beautiful Mile

“What the hell kind of bar has that stupid rule? You have an entire menu called specialty drinks.”

I hold it up to him to prove my point.

“Fine,” he snaps, yanking the menu out of my hand before marching away.

“What’s the deal with him?” I ask the lady sitting next to me, breathing through my mouth.

She shrugs. “Apparently, the regular guy called out tonight.”

“He’s kind of the worst,” I say, watching as Ethan fumbles with an herb that does not look like mint.

Is that basil?

“Honey, look at him. Who cares if he’s the worst?” Perfume lady says with a cocked eyebrow.

I look back at him and study the features I’d already memorized from his magazine photo. His thick head of dark hair has more hints of salt than I could see but his jaw also has a harder edge under the day-old scruff.

“I don’t see it,” I say, trying to convince myself.

She snorts with a shake of her head. “You’re the only one.”

Still, I watch him.

The mojito he finally delivers to me is an abomination.

I take one awful sip before I push back to him. “I’m not going to drink this.”

Rage ignites in his eyes. “Why not?”

His voice is deep and has the slightest tinge of a Maine accent.

I raise my eyebrows. “I watched you use basil. In a mojito. I’m not drinking it. It tastes like gasoline and mouthwash… with basil.”

He starts to argue, but I hold up my hand.

“But.” I smile. “I’m going to help you. I’m a bartender, an impressive one, and you need help.”

His chin jerks back, but he doesn’t look away.

“You’re going to have a mutiny if all those drink tickets don’t get made. Every server here is going to blame you for their bad tips tonight.”

I point to the line of tickets hanging from the printer and the servers waiting at the end of the bar.

“Why would you do that?” His eyes search mine before looking down the bar at the chaos waiting for him.

I shrug. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Okay,” he says, somewhat reluctantly.

“Okay.”

I shoot Marin a text before I slide off my stool and circle around to the back of the bar.

“I’m Nel, by the way.”

“Okay, Nel,” he says, slight smirk ghosting his lips, “let’s see how impressive you really are.”

Twenty-four

---