Page 20 of Dating Goals
“Wait, what?”
“Bar is closed.” She switches off the stereo mid-song, plunging us into silence.
“But I just got warm!” I protest. “I froze my butt off walking down here.”
She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You walked all the way from the chalet? Through the forest trail? In the dark?”
“Hey, I was hungry.”
“We don’t serve food here.”
“Wait.” I glance toward the door where the card players disappeared. “Those guys aren’t driving, are they?”
“Grächen is partly car-free,” she says, starting to stack chairs now. “Those guys all live in the village. Five-minute walk, maybe ten if they stop to sing.”
I scoff. “It’s a thirty-minute walk for me. Uphill.”
“Then you better start heading back.” She gets a broom from behind the bar and starts to sweep broken glass from under the table where the men were just sitting.
“Can I at least call an Uber first?”
That gets a real laugh out of her. Not the polite kind, but a full belly laugh. A snort even comes out.
“What’s so funny?”
“There is no Uber in Grächen.” She wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “We have one taxi, and Kurt is sleeping by now.”
I blink at her, not quite believing this is happening. “You’re seriously kicking me out?”
“I have things to do.” She props the broom against a wall “Glasses to wash, floors to mop…”
“I could help.” The offer slips out before I can stop it.
She moves behind the bar, pulling out cleaning supplies, and gives me a look that could melt ice. “And why would you do that?”
“Because I’m a nice guy?” I flash my most winning smile, the one that usually gets me out of trouble with Coach.
“Nice guys who help clean bars usually want something.” She adds soap to running water to wash the rest of the beer glasses. “What do you want?”
“A ride home would be nice.”
“Ah.” She nods sagely. “There it is.”
“Come on, it’s freezing out there!” I gesture toward the window, where frost is already forming on the glass. “I’ll probably get eaten by a bear.”
“There are no bears in Grächen.” She doesn’t even look up from her cleaning. “Maybe some foxes.”
“Foxes can be vicious!”
“They are more afraid of you than you are of them,” she says, hands full of suds. “Unless you’re carrying chicken in your pockets?”
“If I had chicken, I wouldn’t be hungry.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” She shuts off the water. So please go. I have work to do.”
“What about wolves?”
“No wolves either. Just hockey players who don’t know when to go home.”
