“Fancy with the lime,” Dan says, sniffing at the glass. He takes a sip and then nods his approval. “Yeah, this’ll do it. And I’ll think about what you said.” He taps the bar and then goes to sit with the other guys who work down at the mill, so he can pour his sorrows out to them and probably get terrible advice.
Harper catches my gaze and rolls her eyes, a little smile ticking at her lips. “Didn’t know this meant being a therapist too,” she says when I come closer.
“That’s part of the job,” I tell her. “Booze brings out people’s honesty. Before, during, and after the drinking.”
She just snorts and moves to serve someone else.
The night picks up, and we do a steady stream of business. There’s a baseball game on the TV, and the crowd gets a little rowdy, rooting for their team and booing the players who don’t perform the way they want.
A group of women come in, and I recognize most of them from around town. Some of them work at the registrar’s office, and a couple must be their friends from the next town over or something.
They come in laughing and head for the bar, and Harper serves them all quickly, getting their orders and making them with skill and ease.
“Thank you so much,” one of them says, and Harper smiles back before heading down the bar to restock glasses.
Most of the group go to find a table, but one of them, Cathy Evans, comes up to me. She works at the school, and she’s someone I’ve known for years in that way that everyone who grew up here knows each other.
“Evening, Cash,” she says, leaning against the bar. She’s dressed fancier than most people would bother with around here, in tight jeans and a low cut blouse.
“Cathy,” I reply, tipping my head to her. “Are y’all celebrating something?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, just had some friends want to get drinks, and no one wanted to drive into the city. Figured we’d come support you and the men instead.”
“Well, we appreciate it.”
“I told them this is the best bar in town.”
I give her a look of amusement. “Cathy, this is the only bar in town. Unless you count the deli because they serve beer. And I don’t.”
She laughs at that. “All right, that’s fair. Still, this is the nicest place to hang out after work. The drinks are good and the eyecandy is always top tier.” Cathy moves in closer to me as she says it, her blue eyes sparkling. “You know what I mean?”
I glance at Harper and then back to Cathy, who is leaning over so her cleavage is practically spilling out of her shirt. “Sure,” I say.
Her smile grows. “What time do you close up tonight?”
“Around midnight. Same as every night.”
“Not too late then. I could hang around and we could have a drink together? Maybe grab something to eat?”
The clinking of glasses draws my attention back to Harper. She’s working steadily, replenishing the glasses she’s used and taking up the dirty ones and putting them in the bussing bin so they can get washed. Strands of hair fall out of the messy bun she’s twisted it up into, framing her face and sliding across the back of her neck.
The door opens, and she looks up, attentive and ready to stop what she’s doing to make someone a drink if she needs to. Splitting your focus like that, being able to multitask, is a skill, and she has it in spades.
“Cash?”
Cathy says my name, and something in her tone tells me it’s not the first time. I glance down at her, keeping my eyes on her face.
“Sorry, what?”
“Drinks? Later?”
I shake my head. “When you work at a bar, drinking after your shift doesn’t have much appeal, sorry. All I wanna do is head home and get some rest.”
She pouts a little, trailing one finger across the wood of the bar. “Not even just one drink with an old friend?”
“Not even one, I’m sorry.”
Her lips purse, but she doesn’t try another angle. Instead she sighs and pastes on a smile. “Well, I tried. It was good to see you,Cash.” She heads off to sit with her friends, and Harper comes back over.