Chapter 5
“See you tonight, Mr. Taylor,” I smile at the old man who loves his coffee.
I’m grateful that the man owns a popular sports bar in town and is willing to hire me.
I didn’t even have to do an interview. I was offered the bartending job when I handed him his Cryin’ Ryan coffee last week, and he said, “I appreciate your hard work and dedication. Have you ever thought of serving alcohol?”
The conversation exploded into possibly becoming business partners, so this bartending job is the interview.
I need to do good at this place and prove that I can handle being a business owner and a hard-working employee, and who knows what’ll happen, I could potentially be co-owner of a future sports bar.
“Mr. Wilder,” Mr. Taylor calls out. I love the formality as I turn around to see Ryan’s smiling face coming around the corner. “You got a big game tonight, son.” He raises his coffee cup. “I got Cryin’ Ryan just to wish you luck today.”
Ryan smiles brightly, snapping his fingers. “Thank you. That’s what I’m talking about.” He pats the man on his back and says, “Excuse me, I need to talk with Addison.”
I walk behind the coffee bar as Ryan follows me.
He whispers, “You’re not answering my texts.”
“I’m not staring at my phone. I’m working,” I say as I clean up a few spills and refill the straws.
Ryan nods. “Right. Okay.”
“What’s up?” I ask, looking over at his eyes. He appears to be worried, but I don’t have the time for it right now as I restock the milk. “Is everything okay?”
I grab the coffee cups and start calling out names.
Ryan says, “Don’t worry about me. Can I steal one of those Cryin’ Ryan’s?”
I shout, “Another Cryin’ Ryan, please.” I smile. That name never gets old.
He walks over to the barista and offers to help make the coffee while I finish calling out names. He comes back with a fresh cup in his hands.
I ask, “Are you nervous about the game?”
Ryan takes a long, joy-filled sip and sighs after gulping it.
I hit his chest as he takes a few steps back to prevent the coffee from spilling. “China Wall Wilder, shouldn’t you be at the rink or something?”
“I need to break up with Hailey, I think,” he confesses, and that immediately makes me forget what I’m doing. What am I doing?
“Oh,” I say, stopping in my tracks. I look down at the coffee cups in my hand and call out more names. I smile at my customers, thanking them.
Once the fresh coffees are gone, I turn to Ryan. “So, that’s why you were so weird last night? You could’ve said something.” “Right,” he says. “Yeah. I didn’t know how to bring it up. Is there any way you can come to the game tonight? I need moral support.”
“Ry,” I breathe as Mr. Taylor comes up to the counter and says, “I’ll see you tonight, Addison. The town is going to go nuts with you as a bartender. I’m forever grateful.”
I smile kindly as Ryan gawks. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I’ll be there.”
“Good luck, Cryin’ Ryan.”
Ryan nods his head. “Thanks.” His tone sounds bitter, so I hit him in the chest and pull him to the back room.
“What’s gotten into you?” I ask.
“That’s your new boss? I can’t believe you’re bartending. I told you to move in with me and you won’t have to worry about anything.”
I’m terrifyingly annoyed as I stare at Ryan. What part of N-O does he not understand? “And I told you that if you mention it one more time. I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”
He whispers, “Give me one good reason not to live with me.”
“I don’t have a room,” I say, and as soon as I say it, I regret it. I already know what he’s going to say. And he proceeds to say it just like I imagined.
“You do have a room, but you’d rather call it a guestroom instead of yours. Another reason. Come on.”
He’s not bothering to mention that if anyone stays at his house, they take my bedroom. So, really, I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s not truly my room.
I challenge him with, “You have a girlfriend.”
He’s quick to respond. “And I’m going to break up with her. Another one.”
“Your future wife–”
“Right because I’m dating winners.”
I glare at him because he’s not wrong.
He says, “You haven’t used Jacob as an excuse yet.”
I go still. Crap, I was hoping to break the news at a different time. The floodgates have now opened.
His eyes are searching my face. “What happened?”
I shrug. “Not much. God, Ry, this is not the place and time. I need to get back on the floor.”
“You and Jacob broke up?” he asks. “When?”
He never liked Jacob. He would make little comments left and right about his demeanor or the way he did things and what he wasn’t doing for me.
It’s just not someone I pictured for you.
And I have good reason to take offense. Ryan says the same things about Matthew Pearson for his sister Madison.
He’s about to be doing it to this Greyson kid that his sister is affiliated with.
“Alright.” Ryan snatches me back to reality. “We can talk about it later.”
I walk further into the kitchen and grab a croissant. I pull a piece off and pass it to Ryan.
“We broke up last week,” I admit.
Ryan eats the croissant and says, “You didn’t tell me on our Monday run?”
“I didn’t want you to be worried.”
“Well, now I’m worried.”
His brows are telling the truth. I don’t feel like looking at him right now. I don’t need any sympathy because really, I am okay. “I’m not sad. I knew it wasn’t right with him anyway.”
“So, all that vanilla sex talk was bullshit?” he asks, and my eyes meet his because I can’t believe he’s bringing that up right now.
I shrug. “Let’s not talk about it here. You have a game to focus on tonight, and I have a new job to impress.”
“Right,” he says as he looks around the room. “Is there something else going on?”
“No?” I question. “I’m fine.”
Ryan sighs. “You’re just not smiling like you were a week ago, and I need to make sure you’re okay.”
He can’t be serious. He’s being a huge crybaby today, and I’m not crazy for thinking he is the one who is not okay. He showed up at my coffee shop because I haven’t been texting him back for fucks sake. He’s freaking out over this game, and he’s taking it out on me.
I steal a piece of the croissant and walk around him. “I told you I wouldn’t be your friend if you asked me to move in with you again, so I’m keeping my word.”
The truth is that I need to get back on the floor and he needs to leave because he’s annoying the hell out of me.
Ryan storms out of my coffee shop without another word. And here I am watching how tense his shoulders are with guilt that I won’t be at his game tonight.
The black leather pants paired with Ryan’s hockey jersey is my debut outfit for the sports bar tonight. I’m nervous yet excited. My nerves are on fire for Ryan too. This is a big game against his rival team. I feel horrible for missing it, and I can tell he’s freaking out over it.
I'm standing in front of my mirror, debating on what makeup to apply, when my phone chimes with an email alert. I grab it off the bed, swiping to my inbox. My heart stutters when I see the sender – it's from my landlord.
Nerves swoop through my stomach as I open it, bracing myself for more bad news. But as I read, my eyes go wide. I scan the words again. Sure, I must be misunderstanding.
The message states that the rent increase is being rescinded. My newly signed lease agreement with the higher amount is null and void. Everything will proceed according to my original lease agreement.
I sink down onto the edge of my mattress. Air whooshes out of my lungs in a massive exhale. I'm stunned. And so unbelievably relieved I could cry.
Four hundred dollars a month may not sound like much, but it's a fortune to me. Without the hike, I can make ends meet now. The second job won't be a necessity anymore, just a safety net. The vise that's been snugged around my chest for the past week loosens its grip.
I shoot off a quick reply to my landlord thanking him for the update before tossing my phone aside. For a moment, I breathe. Let the knot between my shoulder blades unravel.
This is huge. Beyond huge. It's exactly the kind of lucky break I needed. My head feels muzzy with the shock of it. My rent isn't going up. I'm okay. It’s going to be okay.
Glancing at the time, I realize I need to get a move on, or I'll be late. I quickly decide on mascara and rosy cheeks. A swipe of mascara and I'm out the door.
When I arrive at Taylor’s Sports Bar, the nerves from earlier return in full force. I take a deep breath before pushing through the front entrance.
The first thing that hits me is the noise – the loud chatting, laughter, and clinking glasses. Classic rock pours from the jukebox in the corner. Neon signs advertising various beer brands glow along the walls.
A large rectangular bar takes up the center of the space, all gleaming mahogany and polished brass. High-top tables cluster around it, with booths lining the perimeter. At least fifteen televisions are mounted throughout, each tuned to a different sports channel.
It's a lot to take in. Sensory overload. But as I look around, I know exactly how I would design my sports bar if I ever opened one.
“You must be Baddie Addie!” a voice chirps. I turn to see a petite blonde striding towards me, ponytail swinging. “I'm Sophia. I'll be training you tonight.”
“Oh, hi!” I extend my hand to shake hers. “It's so nice to meet you. And please, call me Addie.”
Sophia takes me on a quick tour, pointing out the storage room, kitchen entrance, and employee lockers. She introduces me to the other bartenders on duty – there's Nico, tatted up with gauges in his ears, and Omar, rocking a man bun.
“Alright, you ready for your first shift? It’s going to be so fun!” Sophia asks once the tour is done. At my nod, she claps her hands together. “Great! Let's get started.”