Page 13 of Beneath Your Beautiful
He sighed. “Yeah. I fall in lust at least three times a night. It’s an occupational hazard.”
I shook my head, laughing as the door swung open, and a guy with a deep, dark tan and short dreads let us in. “This is Brody. Resident world traveler and slacker. Eden’s the new bartender.”
Brody bobbed his head. “Cool.”
“That’s all he ever says,” Zeke stage-whispered as we followed Brody inside. “He’s mono-syllabic.”
“Heard that, dude. We’re outside tonight. Watch your back.”
Zeke laughed and wished me luck while pointing me in the direction of Killian’s office. “Zeke is in the house!” he yelled on his way outside.
I followed the sound of voices and stopped outside the open door of a windowless office with a filing cabinet and shelves lined with binders. Killian was leaning against the desk, arms crossed, a scowl on his face. He was wearing an untucked black button-down shirt, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, with black jeans and beat-up black combat boots. He looked like a rock star, and despite the perma-scowl, he looked as good as I remembered. Maybe even better. The girl sitting in the swivel chair across from him looked to be around my age, with long lavender hair and delicate features. She had creamy skin, and her black eyeliner was thick and winged. Bluebirds trapped inside barbed wire wrapped around her right bicep. She looked like a porcelain doll with a rocker edge.
They were so engrossed in their argument, they hadn’t noticed me.
“Take down the photos of me,” Killian growled.
“You’re so weird about social media. The customers love seeing your pretty face. It’s good for business.”
He glared at her.
I knocked on the doorframe, announcing my presence, and they both swiveled in my direction.
Killian’s eyes locked on mine, and all the air was trapped in my lungs. He held my gaze for a few seconds before rubbing his hands over his face, like he was trying to erase the memory. I knew the feeling. I’d done the same thing last night when he’d kept invading my thoughts.
“You must be Eden,” the girl said. I turned my focus to her and nodded, incapable of speech. My heart was hammering against my chest so loudly, they could probably hear it. This was ridiculous. She gave me a smile that made me feel like she was in on a secret I wasn’t aware of. “I’m Ava. The brains behind this operation.”
Killian snorted, and Ava smirked at him.
“Nice to meet you,” I told Ava.
“You too.”
I dug around in my backpack until I found the folded application. Ava was watching me with curiosity, her head tilted, her index finger pressed against her lips. I smoothed out the creases, and Ava took the application from me. Fishing out the twenty-dollar bill from my pocket, I held it out to Killian.
“What’s that?” he asked, arms crossed, making no move to take the money.
“Your money. You didn’t need to pay for my taxi.”
He jerked his chin at Ava. “Give it to Ava for her taxi tonight.”
I offered her the money.
“I get paid a salary. I don’t need taxi money.”
Killian snatched the bill out of my hand and forced it on Ava. With a roll of her eyes, she pocketed the cash, grumbling, “You’re an ogre.” Though, her smile told me she didn’t mean it.
“Come with me,” Killian said, indicating for me to precede him. “How’s your ankle?” His gaze traveled from the big scab on my knee to my ankle as we walked down the hallway. I made a concentrated effort not to limp.
“It’s fine.” My ankle still hurt a little bit, but I’d rested it all day and wrapped it. He gave me a skeptical look I chose to ignore.
I followed him behind the bar and stowed my bag in a cupboard Killian locked up. He introduced me to Chris, a tall, lanky guy wearing a backwards baseball cap, who was checking the lines for the kegs.
Killian showed me the setup and talked me through the wine list, all the different tequilas, seven craft beers on tap, and a selection of bottled beers. The hour flew by as I performed the opening duties on the checklist alongside Chris—chopped fruit for garnishes, filled the ice bins, stocked the clean glasses, set up bus tubs. When six o’clock rolled around, I was organized and ready. Or so I kept telling myself.
“Is Killian okay to work for?” I asked Chris, keeping my voice low while Killian went to unlock the front door.
“If you follow his rules, it’s cool. He won’t hold your hand, though. It’s baptism by fire.”
