Page 11 of Crushing on the Grumpy Boss

He laughs. “You want her like my wife wants me out of the house.”

I shake my head. “I do not want her.”

“Alright, fine. Stay in denial. But you’ll see. Us old men know what we’re talking about, ain’t that right, Steve?”

Steve nods. “We sure do. You should’ve seen his face when she jumped into your arms.” He chuckles. “I think he hit about fifty shades of red.”

I wave them off. “Y’all are drunk. I’m about to cut you off,” I threaten.

“You can deny it all you want, but we see what’s going on. And honestly, I don’t see why you’re avoiding it. You’re both adults who clearly have some pent-up aggression that needs to be worked out. Be friendly and help one another out.” Tom laughs and picks up his beer, finishing it off. “Anyway, I’m going to get out of here for the night. The wife should be about ready to have me home again.”

“You coming by tomorrow night to see the band?”

“Hell no, I ain’t coming in here for the young crowd and loud-ass music. I’ll be here when you open tomorrow, and I’ll leave by dark.” Tom waves at the rest of the bar before getting up and leaving.

I grab his empty beer and toss it into the trash before wiping down his usual spot at the bar. Suddenly, my head is filled with worries. If all the guys in the bar can read me that well, can she? Does she know what I’m hiding? I pray she doesn’t. I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to keep her at bay if she decides to double her efforts.

7

RILEY

Itake a little extra time to get myself ready for work tonight since I don’t have to go in until eight. I curl my long, blonde hair and add some makeup. I pull on a cute summer dress and heeled boots. Heels would be a much better look with this dress, but I can’t bartend in high heels or open-toed shoes, so boots it is. I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. The dress has a floral print and it’s sleeveless, tight-fitting up top and loose around the waist. The dress ends a little above my knees, so I feel confident that it won’t show my ass when I have to bend over behind the bar.

I grab my things and make my way across town. The lot is full when I try to pull in, and I end up parking across the street next to the truck and trailer that belongs to the band. When I walk in, I’m surprised by how full it is. I’ve worked here for more than a month now, and I’ve never seen it this busy. What’s even more surprising is that none of our regulars are here.

I go behind the bar and Travis is already busy making drinks. “Hey, where is everyone?” I ask as I put my purse away.

“Everyone?” he asks, shaking a drink before pouring it into a glass.

“Tom? Steve? The regulars?”

“Oh, they don’t attend things like this. Too loud and crowded.”

I nod, understanding. They are older, so it’s easy to see why they would avoid a live band.

Travis delivers his drinks and comes back over to me. “I was thinking that I’d take one end of the bar and you can take the other? That’s how John and I have always done it to stay out of one another’s way as much as possible. Sound good?”

I nod. “Sounds good.”

He rushes off to the far end of the bar while I take the end closest to the small stage in the back. The place is so crowded that I had to squeeze between people to walk through. Every seat at the bar is taken so those sitting at the tables who need drinks have no choice but to come to the end and form a line. I wonder why Travis didn’t have John working, too, so that we’d have more help, but figured he probably worked the day shift and needed a break. Instead of focusing too much on it, I push all thoughts away and just make drinks to work through as many people as possible.

The band is really good. They play country music, mostly covers but also mixing in a few of their songs. It’s really loud for as small as the bar is, and most of the time, I have to yell to talk with any customers. We stay so busy that time passes by quickly. Things being to wind down around midnight when the band quits, but everyone is having such a good time that most continue to drink until closing time.

Travis yells for last call at one forty-five. People start making their way out of the bar, and he fills the last of the drink orders while I start to count down the register. At two on the dot, he kicks people out to give us a little time to clean. My legs feel like Jell-o from running around like crazy, but I’m excited to see how much we brought in in tips. Our jar is overflowing with cash, and I’ve emptied it twice.

Travis locks the door behind the last customer and moves over to the large window to pull down the shade before shutting off the OPEN sign. “Damn, that was a good night. How much did we bring in?”

I’m just finishing counting down the register. “Almost five grand,” I tell him with a huge smile.

His brows lift and his eyes stretch wide. “That include how much I had to pay the band?”

“No, that’s just what we made in sales. Still, pretty good for a town this small. I think everyone came out tonight.”

He chuckles as he moves around, picking up chairs, and stacking them on the table. “I want to do a basic clean tonight. I’ll come in tomorrow and take care of the rest. I’m too tired to fuck with it tonight,” he confesses.

“I am, too.” I drop the money and start cleaning off the bar.

“I’m glad you came in tonight, but I think John should help out with these kinds of things for the foreseeable future.”

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