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“Emma, you man the bar, but go easy. The last thing we need is a bunch of rat-assed tourists. Ginny and I will serve coffee and tea now and Liam, you give Keefe any help he needs. Em, when you need help, just shout.”
Emma nodded and went to the bar but returned to the kitchen a moment later saying there were no glasses behind the bar. Sophie and Liam rounded up the glasses, got them washed and dried and to the bar while Emma and Ginny went around the room taking drink orders.
So far so good. It wasn’t ideal, but they were making do just fine.
Sophie was pouring the last cup of coffee when she heard her brother’s voice calling to her from the kitchen doorway. She looked up and there was Keefe’s smiling face.
“Isn’t there any food around this joint?” the red-faced man asked rudely as she poured his coffee.
Sophie ignored him and her urge to pour hot coffee in his lap and went to the kitchen.
“Hey Sis, look who I found at the grocery store.” Sondra was there unpacking groceries. Sophie had never been happier to see her.
“Just tell me where you want me,” said Sondra.
Sophie put Sondra with Emma behind the bar—no way did they want her in the kitchen.
Since offering a full menu on such short notice—more like no notice—was impossible, Keefe whipped up two entrée options for everyone to choose from. He also thanked Sophie for having the foresight to fire up the fryers.
Before long, the rich aroma of food filled the pub, mingling with laughter and clinking glasses. The tourists were fed and happy, sipping their drinks and chatting away. And the makeshift staff were taking a well-earned breather in the kitchen.
“Honestly, they are the rudest people I’ve ever met and I’ve lived in France!” said Liam.
“I swear, there’s less activity in their brains than inside the Pope’s underwear!” Sophie declared.
“One of them asked if we serve hummus and another asked if the milk was pasteurized,” said Sondra.
“What did you say?” Keefe asked with a snort. That had to be the most butt-stupid question he’d ever heard.
“I said we keep a cow out back that we milk as needed and that we don’t serve hummus but that they were welcome to go outside and eat gravel.” Keefe threw his head back and laughed.
“So that’s why a bunch of them asked if they could have their picture taken with the cow! I wondered what they were on about.”
“That’s nothing. One of them introduced themselves to me and described himself as ‘a very Zen person with rage problems,’” said Emma as she rolled her eyes. “Ginny is nice though.”
Sophie looked around the kitchen and realized there was no sign of Ginny. Liam offered to take one for the team and go find her then disappeared into the dining room.
A minute later, Ginny came through the kitchen door. “I hate to ask this but, do ya’ll have a secret menu?”
“Sorry, a what?” asked Keefe.
“A secret menu. One of them is asking.” Ginny pointed her thumb over her shoulder.
“What sort of dumbass thing is that? This is a pub, not a?—”
Sondra pushed up her sleeves. “I’ll handle this.”
This was exactly the moment she needed to unload on these ungrateful interlopers. Ginny led her to the tourist, Zane, who was in the middle of a very self-important conversation about his album that was “going to be so chill.”
Sondra rolled her eyes. Good grief. When the hell was that bus coming to take these people away?
She leaned down and lowered her voice so that only he could hear. “I hear you’re asking about our secret menu? Now, the app is under construction—you know how Ireland is—but the cook told me himself…” Sondra looked around, pretending to make sure nobody else was listening.
“Yeah, yeah?” he said eagerly.
Sondra looked back into the dimwit’s eyes and almost felt sorry for him. But not sorry enough not to screw with him. She whispered something in Irish then stood up and swished her blonde hair out of her face then walked away leaving the guy looking bewildered.
Ginny followed as quickly as she could after Sondra, who moved elegantly through the crowd back to the kitchen. “What was that you said to him?”
