Page 32 of Casita Casanova
“Where are you from?”
I glance at her and flash a smile. “Not here.”
I don’t have to see her eyes to know they’re rolling.
We cross the street and turn right, approaching a big white building. It’s more modern than the shanties surrounding it, and I like it instantly. “What’s this?”
She stops at the door and reaches for the handle. “Wait here.” Then she disappears inside, leaving me out on the street like a schmuck.
To hell with that. I need a job, too, Maryn. I wait a beat, then pull the door open and step inside. She headed to the right of the long bar, so I head to the left, careful not to be on the receiving end of her wrath, should she find me not following her very clear instructions. Something about Maryn makes me want to ruffle her feathers, but even an asshole like me knows his boundaries. I wouldn’t fuck up her chance at a new job. Give me some credit.
The cute blonde behind the bar lights up like a fucking Christmas tree when she sees me, making a beeline in my direction. “Hi! Welcome to Fast Lane Brewing! How can I help you?”
Jesus. She’s way too excited about working for minimum wage. Leaning onto the bar, I give her the panty-dropper. “Hi”—I glance at her nametag—“Erinn. What’s your most popular beer?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, I love the Honey Blonde. Do you like blondes?”
My gaze flicks to her fluffy blonde ponytail, then I smirk as I meet her big, blue eyes. “As a matter of fact, I do like blondes.”
She giggles.Bingo.
As she pours me a pint of the Honey Blonde, I look across the brewery for Maryn, spotting her leaning against the wall on the other end of the bar. A dark-haired guy is leaning into her, holding her resume in one hand while the other hand rests on the wall above her head.
My eyes narrow as she laughs at something he says.
“Here you go,” Blondie says as she slides the beer in front of me.
“Thanks. Who’s that?”
“Hmm?” She follows my gaze to the opposite end of the bar. “Oh, that’s Greg. He’s one of the managers.”
Taking a sip of the beer, I tear my gaze away from where my landlord talks to my soon-to-be boss, and focus on the girl drooling on the bar top as she studies my profile.
“Do you like it?”
“Delicious.” I hold her gaze. God, I love the way women look at me. “I hear you’re hiring.”
Her eyes widen. “We are.” She swallows hard and I watch the motion of her throat.
“Can you get me an application?”
“I can do better than that.” She pulls her ponytail over her shoulder, twirling the ends between her fingers.
“Yeah?”
“I’m the other day manager.” She grins triumphantly and I thank my lucky stars that I was born this fucking handsome. The job is in the bag. “When can you start?”
“When do you want me?”
A faint flush creeps up her throat. “Tomorrow?”
“I’m all yours.”
“Great!” She claps her hands together once. “We just had three people quit on us and we have a huge community event this weekend. How are you at pouring beer?”
“Fine?”How hard can it be?
“Without head?”
