Page 108 of The Barkeep and the Bro

We all burst out laughing.

“I can’t wait to see Mitch on screen,” Charlie said. “You were the angriest extra on set.”

“I’m not an actor.”

“You only have one facial expression.” Charlie impersonated me and my stone-faced glare. “Which I guess is why Lucy cast you as a man fighting off a zombie invasion.”

“Wouldn’t you be grumpy if zombies destroyed your party?” I asked my boyfriend.

“Probably.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Mitch, would you like anything to drink?” Allison asked me. She was a great hire so far. I had entrusted Charlie to lead the hiring process and bring me his recommendations. He certainly had an eye for talent. She was polite but could draw a hard line like the best bartenders.

“I’ll have water.”

Other guests filtered in—friends of Lucy, friends of Leo. They circled about and eventually took their seats. Ellie and Tim rushed in before the movie went on. They took the seats on the other side of me.

“You almost missed it,” I whispered to them as the lights went down. “My acting debut.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she said. Ellie gave Charlie a polite nod. Things weren’t the same between them, but we were all getting there slowly. I understood. I knew this was a lot to handle, Charlie and me together. But I was determined to smooth out this bump and have the two people I cared about most care about each other.

The screen went black, then “A Film by Lucy McCaslin” popped on. I cheered along with everyone in the room.

“Dad,” Ellie whispered into my ear. “I have to tell you something.”

“Can it wait until after the movie?”

She leaned in closer. “I’m pregnant.”

Just then, I appeared on screen. My stone-faced expression captured for all to see. But in real life? I was a smiling fool.

I started laughing. I had to put my hand over my mouth to shut myself up, but I couldn’t stop. I was so damn happy.

37

CHARLIE

SIX MONTHS LATER

It was a huge relief to attend a wedding where I didn’t have to work. For their nuptials, Cal and Russ decided to keep it lowkey and hold a backyard wedding. Chairs were set out leading to an altar made of wood and rope, created by their Falcon troop, trellised with wisteria. The weather had delivered a freak warm day, likely the last one before fall transitioned to early winter.

Mitch and I took our seats in the front row. We were family, basically. Leo stood under the altar; he was an ordained minister, apparently. I had the feeling he just liked being in the middle of things.

I turned to Mitch. “Have you looked over our latest revenue report from September?”

Mitch arched a suspicious eyebrow my way.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re wanting to talk shop at a party?”

“The party hasn’t begun yet.” I gestured around at the big nothing happening around us. People were still finding their seats and schmoozing. The band had not started. “We had a great summer, and it looks like we’re going to have a strong holiday season. Musical Mondays and the other themed nights have increased foot traffic and drinks purchased per customer.”

Man, I needed a pair of thick-framed glasses and a pocket protector with all the math I’d been doing as assistant manager. My background in finance finally bore fruit as I found myself diving into numbers and data. Mitch had run Stone’s Throw Tavern on feeling, but backing up those feelings with analytics helped to surface certain insights about what our customers liked. By doubling down on what was working, we were able to grow profit without sacrificing the charm of what made the bar special.

“Have you given any more thought to hiring a second bartender?” I asked.

He see-sawed his head. “It’s a tight space behind there, as you remember.”

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