I shook my head. “Nope, but I’m hoping that someone will come in while I’m gone and apply. People seem to like Sawyer better, anyway.”
“Well, duh. She’s more personable.”
“I’ve never heard you use that word in your life.”
Lukas put his hand over his heart. “I do run a very successful business. I know a thing or two about customer service.”
Lukas checked the time on his phone. It was nearly midnight. He’d stayed well past all my regulars, and it was about time to close shop.
“You sure you don’t wanna crash on my couch? I’ve been told I’m a great cuddler.”
Lukas scrunched up his face. “By my sister, man. And I don’t really wanna think about that.”
Fair point. I didn’t either.
“Nah, I’m gonna head home. I’ve got an early job tomorrow. Today was slow.”
“Alright, man. I’ll see you when Harper and I get back.”
“Don’t forget to take pictures!” he called over his shoulder as he strolled out of the bar.
Looking around, I took a tally of everything I still needed to get done. Since Lukas had been there to help, or yap long enough to distract me while I mindlessly took care of it, I didn’t have much to do. I’d already balanced the register and washed the dishes. All I needed to do now was put away the garnishes and lock up the back.
I grabbed the metal containers and walked into the freezer, marking them with today’s date. I’d just finished when I heard the front door open.
“What’d you forget?” I asked as I stepped out of the cold storage. “My tip?”
I rounded the corner, prepared to hit him with an old man joke, when I slid to an abrupt halt. Olivia Hart was standing behind my bar, only twenty feet ahead of me. She had two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila out. “Hi, Duke.”
“Olivia? What’re you doing here?”
A shy smile curved her lips as she pointed to the door behindher. “I couldn’t help but notice the help wanted sign on your door. Is it still available?”
It might’ve been the old age, but I was struggling to wrap my head around what was going on. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”
She took a step forward, dusting her hands on her jeans. “Well, it’s pretty simple. You have—presumably—an available job, and I happen to be in need of employment.” She gestured toward the tequila. “Thought maybe I could show you my skills. It seems like we might be able to help each other out.”
I laughed nervously. There was no way in fucking hell I was about to get my hopes up about a scenario I wasn’t even sure had happened.
Because it sounded a whole hell of a lot like she was saying that she was no longer CEO of Hartstrings Records. And if she was looking for a job here, in Pinecrest, that meant she had plans to stay.
Surely she wouldn’t pull a joke so cruel.
“Don’t you have some fancy pants job already?” I asked, crossing my arms and widening my stance.
Olivia gestured toward the bar. “Wanna take a seat?”
I strolled over and pulled myself cautiously onto a stool. She looked good. Far better than the last time I saw her. There were no red-rimmed eyes or dried tear stains. No mascara smudges lingering beneath her lashes or pity in her gaze.
She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the old, worn wood. I couldn’t help but think about the last time she was here. When I had her spread out before me.
Get it the fuck together, man.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted these past few months. As you can imagine, I’ve been a bit busy dismantling the stability of my family’s record label.” She winced. “Correction. My family’sformerrecord label. That’s going to take somegetting used to. It’s just such a habit.” Her fingers tapped anxiously against her biceps as she eyed the bottle in front of us. “Would it be terribly inappropriate to take a shot during a job interview? I’m going to do it anyway.”
Olivia quickly poured two shots, sliding one my way before bringing the other to her lips and knocking it back. I just sat there, gaping like an idiot, at the news she just dropped. “You sold?”
“Is that a no to the tequila, then? Because if you’re not gonna drink it, I will.”