3. Johnny
JOHNNY
“Lassss one, Johnny. I proooomise!” Bethany, the woman who arrived here before me and could drink a goldfish under a table, asks for another drink.
What she’s going through? I’ve been there.
But she’s on the verge of not being able to walk and not being able to keep the contents of her stomach to herself, so this time I make her drink extra special—a glass of water with vodka around the rim.
I won’t charge her for it, and she’ll think she’s getting one last drink without ever noticing the difference.
“You got it, ma’am. How about I call you a cab too?” I suggest as she stiltedly nods back to me.
“Youuurrr’e tooo good to me, Johnny.”
I glance at Walt, who raises an eyebrow as he sees me making her drink with nothing but water. I grin at the grump. I flash him a wink, partly to let him know I’ve got it handled, partly because he’s a tall drink of water himself.
It’s a few minutes till closing time, and the bar has emptied out except for poor, sweet Bethany drinking away her sorrows over the damn bastard that cheated on her.
I wipe my hands on the bar towel, a sense of satisfaction I haven’t felt in a long time settling into my bones.
It’s been ages since I’ve been behind a bar, but I’ve missed talking to people about their problems. Liquor is the world’s oldest truth serum; couple that with someone standing behind a two-foot piece of wood with a bar towel slung over their shoulder and people feel at ease. My cheeks lift. I’ve missed it.
When I woke up this morning, I thought I’d have been home hours ago, heating up a can of soup for dinner and listening to a Milwaukee Steel Riders hockey game on the radio. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to walk into a new bar I overheard someone talk about and stay here all day serving.
After a couple of hours, Walt and I figured out a system—me making the drinks and working the bar; him serving the folks at the tables.
I used to stand all day at the factory—did all day today too—but I was light on my feet as the hours passed by like seconds.
Nothing like an entire day at the factory, waiting for a moment to get a break and find some fresh air.
Being in this place, working as a team with him…
it was the fresh air I’ve needed for a long time.
Bethany’s cab finally arrives, and she throws herself into Walt’s stiff arms.
“I love this bar sooooo much, Walt!”
He pats her on the back like she’s a baby someone handed him that he doesn’t know how to hold, shooting me a scrunched-up look over her shoulder. She stumbles outside, and Walt quickly locks the door behind her as I start to tidy things up after a busy day.
“I’ll clean up. You can head out,” his deep voice echoes against the wood paneling. “Technically you’re not even employed here.”
I smirk. “I don’t mind. Don’t have anywhere else I gotta be right now.”
“No? No family or anyone to go home to?”
I freeze, looking up from wiping the bar top and catching his big brown eyes staring back at me, wondering if he’s asking what I think he’s asking. I’ve known I was attracted to men as long as I can remember. And I can read people pretty well. But him? I can’t quite figure him out.
“Nope. No family. Just me.”
He nods, grabbing a broom and sweeping up the evidence of a busy night.
The strands of his short, chocolate brown hair bob as he works his way across the room.
I’ve never been a fan of a mustache myself, but on him?
He looks like Freddie Mercury on stage at LiveAid.
Except he’s a giant grump, doesn’t seem like the type to dance, and is wearing a flannel Freddie would never be caught dead in. Maybe it’s just the stash then.
Still, the way his hands tightly grip the handle of the broom has me wondering what they would feel like gripped around me.
When we shook hands earlier, something flickered in my chest. Something warm, soft, and powerful running through it like the cords in my electric blanket.
God, what I wouldn’t give to be curled up in that. Wrapped up in him.
After I’ve finished cleaning behind the bar, I grab my coveralls from where I stashed them in the backroom and get ready to head out.
“Have a drink with me for a minute?” Walt sits on a stool where we’ve had customers all day, two beers sitting in front of him. “As a thank you for helping out today.”
“You pour these yourself?” I joke as I settle in next to him. They aren’t great looking, but don’t look nearly as bad as the first one he poured for me.
He chuckles, low and deep, in his belly. The sound of it, combined with the smile on his face, so much more relaxed than the one I met earlier, sends goosebumps across my skin.
“I may have picked up on a thing or two today.”
“Is that right?” I ask.
He nods as he sips from his glass, his grin cracking into a wrinkled frown. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was, um…”
“Rude to your second customer of the day?” I tease.
He looks down into his drink. “Pretty much. Look, you came in here laughing at my beer pour and asking me if I wanted to make money, and I…I obviously don’t know what I’m doing. It struck a nerve. But you really helped me out today, and I appreciate it.”
I fight my grin as I catch our reflection in the mirror. Even sitting down, his tall, broad frame makes me look like I belong curled up against him. And for a split second, the mirror feels more like a picture frame.
Rein it in, Johnny. He’s just a guy with a bar and a sexy smile.
“Like I said: I didn’t have anywhere else to be. Wanna know something funny?”
He narrows his brows.
“I got fired today.”
His jaw drops, and I stifle a snort. “What?”
“Yep. I was working at the auto plant down the road; they let about half of us go today, so I went for a walk and ended up here not knowing what I was going to do. And now, here it is after ten at night, and I feel more energized than I have in months.”
He tilts his head, his mouth agape, trying to find the words.
My blood heats. “Cat got your tongue?”
He snorts. “No. I…you got fired this morning, then you came here to have a drink and instead worked here all day, not even knowing if I was paying you anything?”
“Well…now that you mention it…” I tease as I take a sip of my drink.
“You know I’m good to pay you for today, right? And”—he runs his hand through his thick head of hair—“if you’re interested…I still need a bartender tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that.”
I chuckle. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to come back. It’d be nice to not have to stand in line at the unemployment office tomorrow.”
“It’s settled then. We open at ten. Come by an hour early, and we’ll get all the paperwork sorted.”
“Will do,” I say with a shaky breath as I bite down on my smile.
We both take another sip before the silence hits.
There’s something in the air here. The wood paneling on the walls, the brass railing along the bar, the Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling create such a sense of warmth, of home, for anyone who walks in the door.
And that doesn’t even account for the smell of his goddamn intoxicating cologne that has me wanting to drink him in more than the lager in front of me.
Something pulls deep in my gut, making me want to move into this bar and never leave.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Were you being a smart-ass when you asked if I wanted to make money?”
I let out a roaring laugh. “No. I asked because you were overpouring those drinks for Bethany. Part of making money in a bar is not overpouring. You were giving her at least three ounces of vodka. Had you been serving like that all day, you would have lost money, and she probably would have left in an ambulance.”
He shakes his head with a sheepish smile. “So, it was an honest question?”
“Yes. Now, me laughing when you poured me that beer? That was me being a smart-ass.”
We both laugh this time, his smile hitting me straight where I don’t need it to hit—my fucking feelings. I still don’t know where he stands. If he’s like me. If he likes me. But…if nothing else, I’ll take the job and a friend.
“Well, I’d better head out. Starting a new job tomorrow and I don’t want to piss the boss off.”
“I heard he’s a big grump in the mornings, so probably best you get here on time,” he says with a laugh, walking me over to the door and unlocking it. “It was nice to meet you, Johnny. Be careful getting home, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Nice to meet you too. Be safe getting home yourself.”
“No need,” he says. I squint as he continues. “This bar came with an apartment upstairs. I’ll be in bed before you get to the end of the block. Goodnight.”
The breath leaves my lungs as I stand stunned, watching through the cold pane of glass as he locks the door and saunters through the bar.
The thought of him having a bed mere feet from where I’m going to be working side by side next to him for god knows how long has me pushed tight against the zipper of my jeans.
This is just a job, Johnny. And now this is your employer you’re having dirty thoughts about. It’s a man you met hours ago who seems grumpy and stubborn and has the most fucking handsome face I’ve ever seen.
My shoulders slump as I sigh, my breath visible in the icy air. As attractive as I find this man, I don’t know if he feels the same. And I’ve lost enough in my life; I don’t need to lose anymore.
I realize that my car is still a way down the road from earlier today and, for once, I’m glad for another long walk.
I need this cold chill to seep into my bones to calm myself down from the heat encapsulating my body in that bar.