CHAPTER ONE #2
“Yes.” I wrapped my hands around the handle. The pitcher was heavier than it looked.
As I walked, the beer swayed gently against the glass. My heels still didn’t feel right, but I kept my pace steady and watched where I was going. Table fourteen wasn’t far away. I could see the group laughing and making room for the pitcher.
All I had to do was get the pitcher to them without spilling it. It sounded easy, but the crowded floor made every step feel hard. I adjusted my grip on the handle and reminded myself not to rush.
Then a couple stood up from a table and another server hurried past me. I swerved to avoid bumping into them, and my heel landed awkwardly on the floor. It wasn’t enough to make me fall, but it was enough to throw me off-balance. The pitcher tilted forward before I could stop it.
Cold beer poured over the rim, soaking the man standing in front of me. The beer splashed onto the floor around his boots. The pitcher slipped lower in my hands, and I tightened my grip just in time to stop it from crashing to the ground.
My heart stopped beating as I stared at the mess I’d made. Beer dripped from his T-shirt onto the floor. His leather jacket was shiny beneath the lights.
He looked different from the other men in the room.
He was taller than any of them, with a solid build that made the leather jacket sit snugly across his shoulders.
A few strands of dark hair had fallen across his forehead, and the stubble along his jaw gave him a rougher appearance than the neatly dressed men around him.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said. I reached for the napkins on the table and tried to wipe the beer from his jacket. Then I realized I shouldn’t be touching him, so I pulled my hand back. My face burned with embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I mean, I was paying attention. I just...I’m really sorry,” I said.
When I finally looked up, he was staring at me. Although his clothes were dripping with beer, his face didn’t show any emotion. That made me more nervous than if he’d yelled.
His eyes were a pale gray, almost silver beneath the amber lights. I held his gaze for a second too long before remembering the beer dripping from his clothes.
The room around us was quieter now. People were watching us, waiting to see what would happen. Nobody stepped forward to help. I swallowed hard and tightened my grip on the napkins. I wondered if I’d just lost my job. For what felt like an eternity, he just looked at me.
His eyes moved over my face, paused on my hands, and settled on my eyes again. Whatever he saw seemed to matter more than the beer, because when he finally spoke his voice was calm.
“It’s fine,” he said.
His voice was lower than I’d expected, calm enough that I almost forgot everyone in the room was watching us. I blinked, thinking I’d heard him wrong.
“It was an accident. You didn’t do it on purpose.” His words were simple, and they surprised me. I’d been preparing myself to be yelled at or fired.
“I’m still really sorry,” I said.
He waved it away. I nodded quickly, feeling grateful. Another server came over to help clean the floor, and I stepped aside and walked back to the bar. My heart was still pounding. I couldn’t stop thinking about the man I’d just soaked in beer and the way he’d looked at me before letting it go.
He was already talking to someone else, his attention turned away from me. I looked down at the notepad in my hand and forced myself to focus on work. A few seconds later, my eyes wandered back across the room, finding him again.
Time passed, and finally my shift was over.
It turned out better than I’d thought it would.
I was still feeling a little embarrassed about spilling the beer, but I’d made it through the night without any more problems. Every time I picked up a tray, I thought about the pitcher I’d almost dropped.
I made sure to be extra careful. I was moving a bit slower than the others, but nobody said anything to me.
As the bar slowed down, I felt relieved. The music was turned down low. Staff lifted chairs onto the tables. The room was filled with the sound of people cleaning up and talking quietly. It wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been earlier, and I was finally able to catch my breath.
“You survived your first Friday,” Chloe said. I looked up at her. She was carrying a stack of glasses.
“I wasn’t sure I was going to make it,” I said.
“Nobody ever is,” Chloe said. “I thought you were going to get fired before you even finished the night.”
By the time we finished cleaning up, I was exhausted. My feet hurt from the heels. All I wanted was a shower and a long sleep. I changed out of my uniform and thanked everyone before I left.
“See you tomorrow,” Chloe said. “You came to work, did your best, and made it through your first Friday. That’s a good start.”
I thought about what Chloe said as I walked home.
The streets were quiet, and it felt nice to have the breeze on my face.
I still didn’t get why the man hadn’t gotten upset when I spilled beer on him.
Maybe he was just a nice guy. I hoped I would never have to deal with him again, because it would be embarrassing if he remembered me.
I kept walking home, relieved that the night was finally over.