Page 14 of Taming Waves

He tilts his head to see the credit card reader attachment. “This thingy here?” he asks as he fingers the black box.

“Yep. You tap the credit card to start the tab, and it will assign a number. You hold the card in the appropriate slot here under the monitor until they cash out.”

“Got it.”

“You check patrons’ IDs who order at the bar during lunch and dinner. Anyone who looks under thirty-five is normal practice. After dinner, bouncers will check IDs at the door before they enter. We allow eighteen and up. Anyone twenty-one and up gets a neon plastic bracelet, and anyone underage gets blackx’s on both hands,” I explain, even though he has been here enough to know the protocol. “Here’s the thing: we’ve all been young, and we know all the tricks. They will try to wash thex’s off in the restroom with mouthwash or their friend’s vodka shots. They’ll try to slide the bracelets off their wrists and let their friends slip it on, then pass it back and forth all night. The bouncers do a good job of making that impossible, but they can be creative. I found one who cut the bracelet and then used nail glue to fasten it to her friend’s wrist before leaving and reentering to get a new bracelet for themselves once. So, if you suspect anything, follow your gut. Re-card them, and if you think someone is using a fake ID, refuse them service. If they cause a scene, call for a bouncer.”

“I don’t need to clear that with anyone?” he asks.

“No. I trust your judgment. We don’t want to harass customers, but we want to protect ourselves and Brew. And we don’t want to do anything that would put us in a position to lose our liquor license, so use your discretion.”

“Understood.”

I look around the bar and let out a breath. It was a lot of information.

“Do you have any questions?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I think I got it.”

“Good, but don’t be afraid to ask if you need help. I scheduled us on the same shifts for a while, just in case,” I inform him.

He rolls his lips to hide a grin.

“Don’t do that,” I say.

“What?”

I waggle my finger in front of his face. “That.”

He reaches out and grabs my wrist. Then, he leans into me. “No smiles?”

“Save them for the customers,” I say, and a shiver runs down my spine from his nearness.

“I’ll add it to the list of rules. Promise it’ll be frowns and scowls from here on out, boss lady,” he murmurs before dropping my hand and stepping back just as Heather walks up.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s five till.”

“I’ll open the door,” I say before glancing back at Parker. “Get your apron on. It’s showtime.”

Parker

“You look like shit,” Anson says as I emerge from the bathroom.

“Thanks, and good morning to you too,” I say as I run a towel over my head.

He’s standing at the stove, stirring a pan of scrambled eggs.

“So, how’s the new job?” he asks as I toss the towel over the back of the recliner and plop down on a stool at the kitchen island.

We’ve been roommates since returning to Sandcastle Cove. For a steal, we rent this two-bedroom, two-bath condo on the beach from my aunt and uncle. It used to be a seasonal rental and raked in a small fortune for years, but as he got older, Uncle Grady grew weary of the management and upkeep. So, in exchange for our extremely cheap rent, Anson and I have been working on the old place. We added the new deck, resurfaced the old fireplace, added a new gas log insert, and restored the original floor. Our next project—redoing both bathrooms—is a big one and requires the help of our friend, Wade.

Wade went to school with Sebastian’s brother, Lennon. He owns Lusk Contracting. He does it all—from remodeling homesto building additions. He did a lot of the work on Sebastian and Avie’s beach house last year.

“Good, but I’m fucking exhausted,” I tell him.

Last night was my first time working without Audrey’s supervision. She’d stayed glued to my side the first three nights, but she cut me loose to work the bar with Leonard on Sunday night so she could get some rest. It took the two of us twice as long to clean up and close down as it would Audrey. We didn’t leave Whiskey Joe’s until almost four in the morning.

The woman is a machine.

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