Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
A hottie comes up to the bar with her empty martini glass. She’s been in town for two weeks, taking advantage of the late season sales, which are meant to increase tourism in Northport. “Hey,” she says in what should sound like a sultry voice but comes off as raspy and a bit too loud because of all the extra bar noise.
“Manhattan?” I ask her as I take her empty glass and set it with the others I need to wash. When I turn back to her, she’s leaning on the bar with her breasts pushed together. After two weeks of trying, the answer will still be “no” from me.
“What time do you close?”
I smirk at her question. She’s trying hard to pick me up. “It’s last call, sunshine. You’ve got thirty minutes until the bar closes.”
“So, you can leave in a half hour?” Her eyes twinkle. I hold up my finger and tend to the patrons around her. I’m not trying to be rude, but I need the tips from the people clamoring for one last drink. Miss Sunshine stays at the bar, even though I’m doing my best to ignore her. Each time I have to mix another drink, she’s there smiling. It would be so easy to take her back to my place or fuck her in the alley behind the bar, but that’s not who I am. There’s too much on my plate to be messing around with one-night stands. I’m probably the one bartender in the world who doesn’t take anyone back to their place or screw someone in their car. I fear pregnancy. I’ve heard so many horror stories of a one-night stand knock-ups, it’s enough for me to keep my Johnson zipped up tightly in my pants.
The cutest brunette saddles up the bar, and I head to her. I lean over and place a kiss on her cheek. “What’s up?”
She motions toward the vacationer. “Someone looks dejected.”
I don’t bother to look over my shoulder. “She’s looking to get laid.”
My sister, Ally, scoffs. Every time I think I’ve got it lousy, Ally reminds me she’s in a much worse situation. At least I’m going somewhere with this hockey thing and will have a degree when I graduate college. Every time Ally turns around, something needs money. Money she doesn’t have.
“Who’s watching Lacey?”
“Mom is.”
“Is she sober?” I ask, knowing full well the answer is no.
Ally ignores my question. “Lacey needs some school supplies.”
Those five words are all my sister needs to say. I nod and pull out my wallet. I hand Ally all the cash I have in there from last night’s tips. “If you need more, let me know. I can take Lacey shopping for clothes next week when I get paid.”
“Thanks,” she says. Ally clutches the money in her hand and wipes a fallen tear away from her cheek with her other hand. “I’ll pay you back.”
“You know I won’t take it.” There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for my niece. Her father bailed when my sister told him she was pregnant, and for whatever reason, my sister insists on keeping his identity to herself. She knows if she told me, I’d beat the shit out of him for bailing on my niece. I’d do the same thing to my dad if he walked into my bar or showed up at one of my games. I pull out my phone, open my sound machine app, and click on “Closing Time” by Semisonic. One of the best songs to play when it’s time to close.
“Stay, and I’ll walk you out,” I tell Ally. The last thing I want is for her to walk out alone with all these drunk assholes staggering around her.
My sister—the saint she is—starts to help me clean up. She comes behind the bar, grabs a bucket, and begins cleaning the tables.
“I get it now,” the woman at the bar says. To be honest, I forgot she was waiting for me.
“What do you get?” I ask.
“Why you’ve ignored my flirting. You know you should really wear a ring.”
She thinks Ally is my wife.
“Yeah, I lost it,” I lie.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you next year.” She leaves the bar without a goodbye. I almost feel bad, but I don’t. I never gave her any sign I was interested in her.
Once the bar is cleaned, everything is washed or in the dishwasher, and the floor has been vacuumed, Ally and I head out. “Thanks for sticking around,” I tell her when we get to her car.
“As if I had a choice.”
I motion toward the cameras. “They don’t always work, and I worry about you.”
“I know, and I love you for it.” Ally hugs me and then gets into her car. She locks it immediately, knowing it’s what I want. I watch her drive away before heading to mine.