Rowan
I throw my hair into a ponytail and quickly dab concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles. I’m exhausted but Saturday nights are almost as busy as Fridays, and it's more regular customers. The tips are good so I can’t complain. Plus, I’ll have tomorrow off to finally catch up on much needed some sleep. Between the clinic and the bar, I hardly have any free time anymore. The outside air fills my lungs as I leave my apartment building to head to work. The breeze sends a little more energy into me– which I can use even after six cups of coffee. I finally reach the bar and see one of my regulars, Dave.
“There she is! How’s it going, squeeze?” Oh how I missed Dave's nickname for me. He’s a good guy. Definitely a heavy drinker, but a good guy.
“Oh you know what your kind says, ‘It’s going’. Where have ya been?” I ask, stopping at the entrance door of the bar .
He laughs taking a pull from his cigarette. “I could say the same. Lady troubles.”
“I’m guessing the dating profile didn’t work?”
He shrugs. “Nah, none of them are like my Annie. I just need to get over the divorce before trying to date.”
“You’ll get there, Dave. Give it time.” I pat his shoulder and walk into the bar.
Madison is working tonight and for some reason she can’t stand me, so my shift is going to be even more agonizing than I anticipated.
“You have a table, Rogan.” She says without looking at me. She purposely butchers my name every time we work together, which has only been a few times so far, but I keep having to convince myself that violence isn’t the answer every time I’m around her. She’s such a bitch for no reason. She’s the type that always has people picking up her shifts, she comes from a pretty wealthy home and only works here to pay for her trips with her friends.
“I’m bartending tonight, Mckenzie. I’m only taking three tables at a time.” I toss over my shoulder, walking past her .
She steps in front of me. “My name is Madison, and you’re going to have to take more tables because Jenna is a no-show.”
I lean my face close to hers. “My name is , like I’ve told you plenty of times, and if you like your brand new twenty-five hundred dollar veneers I suggest you get the fuck out of my way.” Tonight is not the night for her to test my patience. I’m sleep deprived and my bills are late. I have zero tolerance for her shit right now. She walks away with a stunned look on her face. Hopefully that shuts her up for the night.
I’m behind the bar when I spot Grayson walking in. He makes his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the room until they lock onto mine. My heart skips and I can’t help but smile.
“Looks like someone has a new regular.” My manager, Greg nudges me as he walks to the kitchen.
“Back for more?” I call out as he takes a seat in front of me.
“I couldn’t resist the chance of seeing you again, Miss .” He replies, that charming smile of his on his face, just as I remember .
I roll my eyes playfully but feel a blush heating my cheeks. “You’re real smooth.”
“So I’ve been told.” He leans forward, resting his arms on the bar. “So, tell me something about yourself, .”
I raise an eyebrow. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything. Everything.” He says, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.
I laugh, shaking my head and mixing him up an old fashioned. “That’s a lot to unpack.”
He shrugs. “I’ve got time.”
I consider him for a moment. “Well I grew up in Chicago but I moved here about seven years ago. It’s pretty similar here, there's money to be made and it’s a big city.”
“And what do you do when you’re not working?” He asks, sipping his drink.
I laugh dryly. “Nothing crazy. I like to read, some days I go to the Detroit Vineyard to clear my mind. I work six days a week so I don’t get a lot of time to do the things I’d like to. What about you? What brings you here?”
“I’m just in town for business,” he replies smoothly, his eyes raking over me. “But I’m starting to think Detroit has more to offer.”
The restaurant is nearly empty and I sit up at the bar next to Grayson after cleaning up my last table of the night.
“So why’d you move out of Chicago, ?” He asks intently.
“Well–” I think for a moment, not knowing how to answer. “Because the L train smells like shit.”
He laughs, revealing his perfectly white smile. “You’re funny, I like that.”
“So, what kind of work do you do?” I ask, switching the subject from me to him.
He hesitates for a moment. “Consulting, mostly. Helping businesses optimize their operations. ”
I’m not great at making conversation beyond small talk given I don’t really have friends. I’m used to small talk about sports and weather with customers– surface conversations. Talking to Grayson feels good, in an odd sort of way. I can feel myself staring a little longer than I mean to.
“I should get going. I’d love to see you outside of work, .” He says, cutting off my awkward silence.
A shy smile plays on my lips. “Sure, I’m off tomorrow.”
He swipes the pen from my apron and writes his number on a napkin. “Text me where to pick you up. I’ll see you tomorrow, .”