Page 10 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“What are you doing here?”

“Funny you should ask.” He held out a familiar piece of paper. It was the job application form I used, all filled out. “I was hoping to join your fine team at Stone’s Throw Tavern.”

“You live in Sourwood?”

“I think this interview would go faster if you two weren’t yelling across the room,” Natasha said. “Almighty Mitch, can you come down from your perch?”

I shot her a glare, which only elicited a sly smile from her lips. I could do without her zazzing me in front of an applicant—an applicant who used to date my daughter and almost became my son-in-law.

When I descended the stairs, I got a good look at Charlie up close. He still had the clean-cut good looks of a senator, the gleaming smile of a weatherman, and the friendly energy of a morning show host. His big, brown, inquisitive eyes made him as irresistibly charming as a puppy dog. Charlie loved to talk; that I remember. But not in a conceited way. He asked questions and worked to strike up a conversation, which I admit wasn’t my strong suit.

He dressed up for the interview with a button-down shirt tucked into khakis, more professional-looking than the other two applicants.

I put on my reading glasses and scanned his application. “You’re applying to be a bartender here?”

“Correct.”

I read through his job experience, trying to make sense of how he wound up here. “You were working in finance? In Manhattan? And now you’re here?”

“Life has a crazy way of working out. I wanted to get out of the city. Needed a change. Wanted to exit the rat race.”

I found this was common for people of his generation. Lots of job-hopping masked in the neverending drive to find oneself. I envied people for that. I spent my entire professional career inside this establishment.

“I recently moved in with an old friend of mine who said you were hiring. And faster than you can say Tequila Sunrise, I’m here.”

“This is quite a career change.”

“Being a bartender, y’know, aligns with my personality better.” Nervousness shined through his gregarious demeanor. I liked that he was nervous.

I studied his face. Since I had decades of experience serving people, I’d gotten pretty good at cutting through their bullshit. “It sounds like you were fired from your job, probably for something really bad that blacklisted you in the industry. And then I’m guessing your girlfriend dumped you, which motivated you to leave the city altogether. Is that accurate?”

Panic. Sheer panic crossed his face. It was like something out of a newspaper comic strip. I’d never seen Charlie as anything less than cool and collected. He struggled to regain his confidence.

“Mr. Dekker. You’re…wow…you’re like a psychic or something.”

A twinge of remorse hit me for putting him on the spot. His bright face began to sink. If all that was true, he’d had a rough go of things.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Life can give us a real kick in the ass sometimes.”

Like finding out your girlfriend is pregnant right before high school is over, right as you’re on the cusp of starting a new life.

He got quiet, a startling sight from someone as spunky as him. “It’s been quite a month.”

“You’ll get through it.”

“With a sweet bartending job, perhaps?” His eyes went wide, and that charming smile crawled back.

I put a hand on his shoulder, and damn if it didn’t make a flutter of heat shoot down my arm. I yanked it back as if I’d touched a hot stove. “You don’t have the experience, Charlie.”

“We all have to start somewhere.”

I chuckled at his confidence. “Not here.”

“Experience can be gained, but the innate building blocks of what makes a great bartender, well, Mr. Dekker, I have those in spades.” He perked up as if he were selling his skills on the Home Shopping Network. “I like talking with people. I’m a night owl. I’ve seen lots of bartenders in action, so I’ve pretty much learned this job through osmosis. I was born for this.” He flashed me a cocky smirk, despite having no real experience.

“I’ve been on flights before. Doesn’t mean I’m qualified to be a pilot.”

“Understood.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m ready to learn.”

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