Page 17 of Enemy Kisses

The final whistle blows on the teenage games and they clear the field. We do our last stretches and take up our positions. Because we change positions each week, it’s my turn to step in as the goalkeeper. This should be fun. If my defenders do their job, I shouldn’t have a lot to do tonight. I put on my gloves and make my way into position.

The ref blows the whistle to start the game, and it’s on. The guys pass, defend, and attempt shots on goal. I do my best to defend our goal, but a ball slips past me in the sixty-third minute. I only hope our guys manage to score a second goal so we walk away winners tonight. For a bunch of guys in our thirties, we’re doing okay. Lincoln runs with the ball down the wing and crosses it to Max, who kicks the ball into the top-right of the net, scoring our second goal of the game in the eighty-fifth minute. Now, I just need to make sure our opponents don’t score for the next five minutes plus two minutes of injury time. Our strikers, Max and Aaron, are doing their best to keep the ball in the other half, but I’m on high alert in case the guys with their fancy mustaches break away and head toward the goal.

Finally, the ref blows the whistle three times, signaling the end of the game. I run forward to join my team as we celebrate our hard-fought win.

“Awesome job, guys. Great assist, Lincoln. And Max, that goal was perfection!” I pat both guys on the back.

We shake hands with each member of the Handlebar Mustaches and then head off the field. I don’t recover as quickly as I used to, so I do a few cool-down exercises.

“Awesome job, guys,” Molly says as Max wraps her in his arms and pulls her in tight. “Ewww, you’re gross!” She chuckles as she playfully pushes him away.

“You love it, Dimples.” Max smacks her ass, and we collect our gear to head to the parking lot.

“I’ll see you guys at the pub. I’ll get the pizzas started.”

Thomas jogs to catch up to me. “I can’t make it tonight. I have an early shift, so I’ll see you next week.”

“No worries, man.” I slap him on the back. “Stay safe and I’ll see ya next week.”

Traffic is light at this time of night, so I make it back to the pub in plenty of time to get everything ready for the guys. Every Monday, after the game, the guys come back here for pizza and a couple of beers. On my way through the pub, I check that Callahan has reserved our usual tables. Not that I need to check, because he’s always competent at his job. I step into the kitchen to find Miss Sylvia still working. “Why are you still here? You were supposed to finish an hour ago.”

She flicks her wrist as if to erase my words. “I wanted to get these pizzas ready for the oven. I was just finishing up.” She wipes her hands on her apron, then discards the soft plastic into the collection bin—we try to recycle as much as we can here.

I grab a couple of pizzas and place them in the pizza oven. When we decided Monday nights were going to be pizza nights, I immediately had a proper pizza oven installed. It was one of the best investments for the pub. Monday nights used to be dead, but now it’s always packed. “Thanks, Miss Sylvia. You’re the best. Now go home.”

Checking the pizzas in the oven, they look ready, so I pull them out and replace them with a couple more. “Jackson, do you mind watching the rest of these and bringing them out to us?” I slide the pizzas onto the serving boards and cut them.

“No problem, Finn.”

I carry the pizzas out to the main bar and slide one on each table, then take my seat at the end of the booth next to Aaron. Lincoln pushes a beer across to me and I take a long drink. Considering I’m the owner of a pub and I spend most of my time in one, I don’t drink all that much. I have the occasional whiskey with Callahan and a couple of beers on a Monday night after soccer. Dad always hammered into me it wouldn’t be prudent to drink daily; he never did—unlike his father—and I respect him for that. On the other hand, Seanathair was often drunk according to the stories Dad shared about his father being a functioning alcoholic until his liver finally gave out on him. I was young when he died, so I don’t remember my seanathair very well, only that he was sick and Mom used to drag me up to the hospital to visit with him while Dad was too busy with the pub.

A scuffle breaks out on the opposite side of the bar, and I shoot to my feet to sort it out. I have a zero-tolerance policy for violence of any kind in my pub. Callahan’s already there, pulling Blaze away from a patron.

“What the fuck, man?” Callahan asks Blaze as he pulls him away. Blaze shoves away from Callahan and staggers haphazardly down the hallway toward the office. I tilt my head to Callahan, telling him to follow him but to keep his distance. Blaze is a big guy and can be volatile—I don’t want my friend to get hurt.

The patron looks shell-shocked, and Blaze looks drunk out of his mind. “Are you okay?” I place my hand firmly on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing gently to draw his attention to me and away from Blaze. Fucking Blaze has the shortest fuse of anyone I’ve ever met. His shift finished hours ago. Obviously, he’s spent the time drinking. Something he does from time to time. I’ll deal with him later, once he sobers up. My priority has to be my patron and damage control.

He turns his head to look at me as though he’s only now realized I’m here. Rubbing the back of his neck, he responds, “Uh, yeah. I guess. I’m not sure what happened, though.” He tilts his head to the woman standing two feet from him. “He hassled that woman, and I stepped in because she was telling him to leave her alone and he wouldn’t. Then he turned on me.”

“I’m sorry about that.” I turn to the woman. “Are you okay, Miss?”

“He works here, right?” she snaps at me, and the guy turns his gaze back in my direction.

Shit. This could be bad for the pub. “Yes. He’s my day manager and is currently off duty. So this is his time.”

The woman pushes her shoulders back, and I recognize the stubborn set of her jaw. She’s not going to let this go. “That doesn’t make his behavior okay. He should show more respect to women and have more self-control in his position.” She crosses her arms, and I have no desire to drop my gaze to her breasts as I did with Harry, even though this woman is as fired up as Harry was the first time we met. “I hope you’re going to deal with him accordingly.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Of course. His behavior is unacceptable. He’ll be given a warning because this is the first time something like this has happened. If either of you would like to make a formal complaint, I’m happy to do that and give you each a gift card for a complimentary meal and drinks here as a small way to apologize for your negative experience.” I’ll be taking the money for the gift cards out of Blaze’s paycheck. There’s no way I’m wearing that expense when he was the damn cause.

They follow me to my office, and I complete the complaint paperwork with each of them, which is a lengthy process, but necessary. Dad set these protocols in place to ensure that our employees maintained a certain standard. It also meant that it was much easier to fire repeat offenders with a detailed paper trail—even though it’s a pain in the ass. I hope it won’t come to me having to fire Blaze because he is a good day manager, if not a little rough around the edges. By the time the two leave my office with their complimentary gift cards, they’ve exchanged phone numbers with a promise to return together to share a meal. I got the distinct vibe that things may progress between them.

By the time I return to the guys, Max, Molly, Lincoln, and Aaron are the only people left. Max frowns at me. “Everything okay?”

I drop onto the seat with a tired sigh. “Yeah. No. Not really. Fucking Blaze was causing trouble with a couple of patrons. I’m going to have to give him a warning.”

“Shit, man. That’s not good for business.”

I nod. “I know. When he’s sober, I’ll talk to him.”

---