Page 77 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“No tipping,” I said.

“Trust me, you need it.” He left the bill in a puddle of alcohol. Asa and he gathered up the shots and left.

26

MITCH

Forget the bride and groom; the father of the bride was the star of the wedding. I couldn’t walk three steps without someone coming up and congratulating me, telling me how beautiful Ellie looked, what a fine lady she’d turned into, and asking how I felt about her being married.

I appreciated all the well wishes, but having these same conversations was its own kind of torture. I should have prepared canned responses had I known I’d be having the same interactions over and over. I preferred to cede the spotlight to others.

The cocktail hour was in full swing. I stood in the corner of the room, watching things unfold. The party went off without a hitch so far. Waiters served delicious food on trays, coordinated under the watchful eye of Natasha. The room was set up beautifully. Ellie shimmered in her dress and glowed with pure happiness. I chose to take this all in from the edges. Being in the center of things wasn’t my place.

“You doing all right?” Charlie asked from his station at the bar.

His sleeves were rolled up, and his white shirt hugged all the right places. I could look at him all day.

“Just taking a breather.”

“Want anything to drink?”

“Water.” He had served me beer earlier. I’d caught glimpses of him throughout the night, and he handled the crowd with aplomb. Tonight was nothing compared to a Musical Monday.

Our fingers touched when he handed me the water, sending a spark of electricity up my spine.

“Anything else you want?” he asked.

Yeah, to experience this night with you at my side, holding my hand.

“Nope.” He had driven me crazy today with his sex drive, but it was all I could think about. My back hurt as I walked down the aisle thanks to holding him in a sixty-nine.

Sadness briefly clouded over his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

Charlie wiped down the bar. “Just realizing my friends are assholes.”

“They’re rich and young and male. That’s par for the course.” It must’ve been tough to be serving your friends rather than partying with them. And partying they were, judging by how rowdy some of them were getting.

“When you were my age, did people tell you to stop working at Stone’s Throw and get a real job?”

“All the time.”

He looked up at me, surprised.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I had a kid. I needed a real job, they told me. It didn’t matter that Stone’s Throw was a family business. I could make tons more money doing literally anything else.” Their snarky voices echoed in my head, of people who said they were only thinking about my family but who bailed.

“But you stayed.”

“There was no other place for me. At some point, you just have to say Fuck ’em. This is your life.”

Charlie crinkled his eyes in a sweet smile. “You’re a wise man, Boss.”

At least he didn’t say, wise old man.

Speaking of rich assholes, Hannah’s husband, Vince, came up to the bar and ordered a beer. He then turned my way.

“Mitch, congrats.”

I raised my water to him, steeling myself for another round of small talk.

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