I bent down to kiss her cheek. “I love you. Have a good time and be good for Ms. Kenzie.”
“CJ.” Ms. Kenzie nodded and headed for the door. “Jena, help Noelle gather her things. I’ll meet you guys in the car.”
Before I knew it, every stool was occupied, the booths were full, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.
Nicky walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of food. “Hope you’re ready for your next special. Pizza bites!”
I grabbed a pizza bite and got to work, pouring drinks and running food orders, barely catching my breath between customers.
Somewhere in the middle of it, the energy in the room changed. A shift was clear and I couldn’t quite place why. I didn’t notice her right away, not until Max burst into the back stockroom, grinning from ear to ear, like a schoolboy with a prepubescent crush.
Curious, I followed him back to the front, and that was when I saw her.
She stood in the middle of the bar, clearly out of place. Like she had fallen in the middle of Grand Haven from somewhere more glamorous than this. Her hair was a golden shade of blonde, cascading down in messy yet soft waves. It was as though she stepped out of a magazine. Her clothes were too fancy, tailored and no doubt expensive, not practical for my small bar setting. Her posture was sophisticated like she was trained to be intentional with every movement she made.
It seemed like she didn’t even realize how many people turned to chance a glance at her.
I had no idea who she was or what she wanted, but somehow, I knew life was about to get a whole lot messier.
CHAPTER 5
Grace
Bar buzzedfrom the live band and the groups of people chatting. From the people making small talk, having first dates, forming real connections. Real friends.
I inhaled a deep breath and was met with the scent of alcohol, musk, and a little bit of desperation. Which probably was coming from me.
Desperate for change and a drink, I walked up to the wooden bar and shoved my way in front of the bartender, a muscular guy with a welcome, blinding white smile.
“Welcome to Bar. I’m Nicky,” he chirped. Nicky raised an eyebrow as he looked me up and down. No doubt taking in the fact that I didn’t seem like their typical customer. Everybody looked relaxed, whereas my outfit was stiff and I stuck out like a sore thumb.
“What can I getcha?” Nicky asked, flashing his pearly whites again.
“I’ll have a dirty martini. Three olives.” It was my standard drink. I dug into my purse, pulled out my platinum card, and slid it across the bar. After Nicky asked if I wanted to start a tab, he turned to run it.
Nicky relayed my order to the other bartender, a younger guy with brown hair. He grabbed my martini glass in one hand and the gin in the other. He set the glass down and started to mix my drink, overexaggerating his movements as he shook the gin, vermouth, and olive brine in the cocktail shaker. It was clear from the way he kept stealing glances at her that he was trying to impress this woman at the other end of the bar. Not that he had to do much to impress her—she was already looking at him with googly eyes. Ah, young love. One thing I never delved into too deeply was love. Sure, guys were fun to mess around with, and they served a purpose every now and again, but that was the extent of my relationships with the opposite sex.
“Your drink, my lady.” The younger guy, who didn’t even look eighteen, set my drink down in front of me. He flashed me a cheeky smile and winked. “I’m Max, by the way.”
“Thank you.” I returned his smile with one of my own. It was nice to see both men be so enthusiastic about their jobs.
I cursed myself for not telling the guys my name when they’d introduced themselves. Of course they could look at my card and they’d seeGrace Harringtonimprinted there,but dammit if I didn’t want to be just Grace sometimes.
A disheveled-looking, older gentleman with a salt-and-pepper beard came up to the bar and started chatting up Nicky and Max. As he passed by me, I caught a whiff of alcohol and sweat, and my nose wrinkled at how strong his body odor was. If it weren’t for the fact that I spotted the cash in his wallet when he opened it to retrieve a credit card, I would have thought he was homeless. He handed the card over to the younger bartender.
“Dirty Al, I told you I ran the card three times. It isn’t going through,” Max reasoned, cupping the back of his neck with his hand, nervously.
It must have been uncomfortable to tell people their payment wasn’t any good.
“I don’t know what you don’t understand. My account has plenty of money. Run it again,” the older man spat. His nickname might have been “Dirty Al,” but I was more concerned that he was Crazy Al.
“Assholes,” the man muttered under his breath, taking a seat next to me.
With that, I decided to do a lap around the place and get away from the smelly old guy. Maybe I should buy his drinks, pay it forward and all that. But then again, maybe that wasn’t all that wise, since I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.
Grace, don’t judge!You’ll become like Jacqueline, a voice within myself told me. I shuddered at the thought and spun around to get a better view of my surroundings.
Bar was… nice? It wasn’t my typical scene—I was used to bars with chandeliers, top-shelf liquor, and elevator music playing in the background, or if I was partying, lounges with leather booths, body glitter, and EDM.
