Page 68 of Wilder Puck
“There she is!” Arianna, my fellow bartender, calls out from behind the counter. “Cutting it a little close, aren't we, Addie?”
I flash her a tight smile as I skirt around the bar and glance at the clock, not realizing I’m late by two minutes. “Sorry, I got held up. It won't happen again.”
She waves a dismissive hand, her bracelets jingling. “No worries, doll. We've all been there. Now get that perky little butt in gear, we've got thirsty customers to serve!”
I take my place behind the bar, pasting on my customer service smile. “What can I get for you?” I ask the middle-aged regular named Kenny.
“Just a Bud Light, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes lingering on my chest a beat too long. “And maybe your number, if you're feeling generous.”
I snort as I grab a glass and fill it from the tap. “In your dreams, Ken. We both know I'm way out of your league.”
“And here I thought we had something special, Baddie.”
Ugh, that nickname is getting to me now that I have the coffee shop. It was cute when only Ryan would call me that, but now it’s a thing and I don’t want it to be a thing.
“The only thing we have is a bartender-patron relationship,” I say, sliding his beer across the counter. “And even that's on thin ice, buddy.”
He grins good-naturedly as he takes a swig. “Fair enough. Can't blame a guy for trying though, right?”
I just shake my head, fighting a genuine smile. Kenny's harmless, for all his flirting. He's been coming in here for a long time according to Mr. Taylor. He’s always with a cheesy pick-up line and a wink. It’s not only towards me, so I don’t think much of it.
I let myself get lost in the rhythm of pouring drinks and cracking jokes, a perfect distraction from the stress of being evicted.
I'm in the middle of mixing a round of cocktails for the woman waiting for a friend. I glance up to see Emma meeting that customer. Emma is the woman who gave me her business card to pass on to Ryan. This should be interesting.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” I say to her friend as I drop off the drinks. They look like they stepped out of a fashion mag, and I'm suddenly painfully aware of my basic work uniform and messy bun.
“Hey!” Emma shouts with a giant smile of perfect teeth. “Just the person I was hoping to see.”
I glare at her, wondering why she would want to see me.
“Can I get you something else?” I ask Emma.
“Sure, a vodka soda.”
I turn to leave and she says, “So, your friend never called me.”
I shrug. “I passed the card to him.”
“Listen,” she says politely. “There’s going to be a party tomorrow night. You should come.”
“Me?” I question.
She nods with a smile. “And bring your friend.”
I press my lips together. “Let me get you that vodka soda.”
Wow. She is determined. It seems like she wants Ryan Wilder badly, and I’m at an awkward standstill, serving my customer and protecting what Ryan and I currently have.He is mine.Kind of. Well, almost…but he is mine to some degree.
As I make her vodka soda, I glance over the crowd to see if anyone needs tending to. Then I see Ryan Wilder walking toward the bar with Colton. He waves at me right as I’m done making Emma’s drink. When he sits right next to her, a deep surge of emotion stings my chest.
I've lost too much already — my mom, my apartment, my sense of stability. I'm not losing him too. When I glance at Emma, she doesn’t notice him yet. She is notably beautiful, and Ryan loves beautiful.
I straighten my posture and remember that nothing in life is permanent. I can’t project my stress of being evicted on anyone. Emma can mean well, so I give her the benefit of the doubt. Even though, in the back of my mind, I know damn well that she cares about status and image. Ryan is quite the image. He’s fresh off the ice and looks crispy. He’s showered but still hot as ever with his slightly red face from the cold ice rink.
“Hi,” he says as I drop the drink off to Emma.
“Thank you,” she says to me. “I need to get your number.”
