Chapter 10 Angie
ANGIE
I’m placing down the sixth cocktail I’ve made today when I feel him.
I fear I’ve been woefully misinformed when it comes to dating.
I always thought that you make plans, text them daily to make sure their feet are still warm, then the night before, reconfirm the date you planned at the beginning of the week is still set, and then ultimately cancel at the last minute.
Brandon is flushing every one of my theories and fears about dating down the drain.
Maybe he’s following a pattern? Or maybe he’s just sure of what he wants?
Or maybe we’re two souls who’ve been adrift for longer than either of us realizes, and we’re both making our way back to shore together.
Either way, it’s a refreshing take, and I find that I don’t hate it.
I make sure the patrons on my side of the bar are taken care of before I head over toward him.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask teasingly as I place a cocktail napkin in front of him.
“No,” a voice to his right says, and my cheeks flame because I didn’t notice him, “I all but begged him to bring me here so I can see who he’s so infatuated with.”
My nerves take over, and it takes me a minute to remember my customer-service brain. “Hi. Infatuated, huh?” I get started on two waters and set them in front of them. My eyes flicker to Brandon, whose gaze is firmly fixated on me, before going back to his friend.
“Yep. I’m Carter,” he introduces himself to me and holds his hand out.
My body relaxes and I take his hand in mine and give it a shake. “Angie. So, what can I get you two?”
“I’ll take a pale ale, if you’ve got it,” Carter says.
I nod and look over at Brandon questioningly who shakes his head. I drum my fingers on the bartop and head to the lineup of beers on tap and find a suitable pale ale for Carter.
“Here you go,” I say as I set his beer in front of him. “Do you want to start a tab?”
He takes a sip and nods appreciatively. “No, thank you.”
I’m in an awkward position. I’ve been around Brandon while he’s been at work. But now that we’re in a much different position than we were two months ago, I feel stuck.
“Go take care of your customers. We’ll be here,” Brandon speaks up and makes the decision for me.
I think he’s caught on to my need to process things and I send him a grateful smile before moving down the bar and taking care of the other patrons in the form of refills and paying their tabs.
I start the next load in the glass-only dishwasher, wipe down the bar top, then double-check the beer levels and make sure we’re good on liquor.
By the time I make it back over to Brandon, Carter is gone.
“Sorry,” I tell him regretfully when I finally get back to him.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Where’d Carter go?” I ask as I snag his empty glass and cash off the bar then wipe off where he was sitting.
“He has a date.”
“Who’s the lucky person?”
Brandon smiles and I think he likes that I didn’t assume it was a woman. It’s Philly after all where the LGBTQ+ community is more welcoming than most. Plus, if loving who you want to love, no matter the gender, makes someone happy, then it shouldn’t matter to other people.
“He hasn’t told me. But it’s some guy in his apartment building.”
“That’s convenient,” I say with a soft smile.
He snorts and runs his hand over his mouth. Hot. “That’s what I said.”
The dishwasher beeps, and I hold up a finger to Brandon and move over to let the steam out.
One by one, I inspect the glasses to make sure they’ve been thoroughly cleaned and place them on the shelf behind me and the one in front of me that’s hidden under the bartop for quick access.
I chop up some lemons and limes for the night crew and head down to the basement to get a few bottles of liquor, so they’re ready.
When I cash out my last guests, I head back over to Brandon and see his furrowed brow while looking at his phone.
“You’ll get wrinkles if your face keeps that up,” I tell him as I wipe down the bar again.
His face smoothes out when he looks up at me.
“Much better,” I compliment and sit on the metal cooler, putting me closer to him. “Was that work?”
“No,” he says with a sigh. “Group chat with my brothers.”
“Is that weird?” I don’t elaborate with my question—there’s no need.
He shrugs and plays with the condensation on his water glass. “A little.”
I survey him in my own way. When you know how old someone is, they either look younger than their age or older than their birth age. Brandon is somewhere in the middle. But mostly, he looks tired. I’m sure I don’t look any better.
“Are you hungry?” I ask him, the need to spend time with him outside of my job is too great a temptation to resist.
“Don’t you have to close out? Or whatever it is you have to do?”
“Already done. Plus, you just have that water, so I’m free to leave whenever.”
“Yeah?” he asks and it’s the first time I’ve seen him perk up in the last week.
“Yeah. The other bartender just got here,” I tell him and slide off the cooler to clock out. “I’ll meet you outside?”
He nods, and I watch as he heads off toward the bathroom.
I never thought I’d find a man in dark blue chinos and a white work shirt attractive.
They represent too much of adulthood that I’ve come to resent.
But what’s becoming common with Brandon is I’m finding a lot of things I didn’t think I liked, I like.
“He’s cute,” Joe, the other bartender, says when he comes to stand next to me.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
I see him out of my peripheral as he leans his back against the shelf and wipes his hands off on a dish towel.
“You sound wary.”
“It’s complicated,” I tell him slowly and turn to face him.
“So, uncomplicate it.”
“It’s—it’s a lot more complicated than trying to uncomplicate it.”
“Everybody here knows your history, kiddo. Knows the familial history,” he says pointedly with a raised brow and places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
The Hayes Family had their pictures run on the local news and through the paper for weeks, and even though it’s been years since the accident, you don’t just forget one of their faces.
“When it uncomplicates itself, and it will, know that all of us are on your side. We’re rooting for your happiness. ”
“Thanks, Joe,” I whisper.
I stare blankly at the screen while thinking about what he said.
While it’s true that one day, the murky history between our families will uncomplicate themselves, we’re still years and maybe centuries away from that.
The sting of those losses and the missing pieces from our families will always be present.
And no matter how you spell it out—Brandon and I will always be complicated.
We will always be forbidden.
I hurriedly drop my receipts and earnings in the drop box that’s outside of Hannah’s office and rush outside to meet Brandon. I see him sitting on the bench a few steps away from the entrance and quietly make my way over to him.
The butterflies I thought were long extinct in my body takes over when I reach him and I lean down to place a kiss on his cheek. “Hey, you.”
His head turns in my direction and I lean back so I’m not right in his face. “Hi. Are you ready?”
I heft my purse back up my shoulder and nod.
My eyes follow his movements as he unfolds himself from the bench and covers the distance between us.
His dark blue work pants encase toned looking legs and his crisp button down with the sleeves rolled up and a paisley patterned tie, really affirms that he is not who I would begin to fall for.
But my mind doesn’t care and my pesky heart has only managed to beat around him.
I wait with bated breadth as we finish dinner. Since I don’t eat too many foods with dairy or gorge myself on gluten like other people, I brought him to a place that specializes in fair food, Bird & Daughter, all year long that happens to have a full gluten-free and dairy-free menu.
“You know, I thought gluten-free foods would taste like cardboard. But I liked it,” he says as he crumbles up his trash.
“Really?” I ask as we sit at a picnic-like table in what’s called the food arena.
Several businesses occupy this not-for-profit space.
So instead of one stuffy restaurant, we’re in a massive food court with an atrium-type ceiling.
Pots with plants that thrive indoors are spread throughout the one-hundred-square-foot-space, and a few birds fly through, letting a small bit of the outside in here.
Brandon nods. “Yeah. If it was bad, I would’ve told you.”
I nibble on a salted sweet potato fry and look at him like he’s an alien.
Apart from Hannah and those who work at the restaurant, where their honesty is refreshing—it’s not something I expected from Brandon.
Maybe I expected him to placate me to get to know me better, but I don’t get that vibe from him.
“Do I have something on my face?” he asks and frantically wipes it off with a napkin.
“No,” I tell him with a sigh and push the rest of my fries toward him. “Your face is oddly perfect.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I watch him with a soft smile and take a sip of my dairy-free milkshake.
“Tell me what your day usually looks like when you’re not fantasizing about me.”
I guffaw and toss a crumbled-up napkin at him, but my cheeks spread with a smile, and it seems like that’s been Brandon’s number one goal.
“For your information, my days are packed. Depending on the day, I’ll have a virtual meeting with my therapist at around 7:30.
Nothing says good morning quite like being skinned alive for your feelings.
And then I’ll see if I have any assignments or tests I need to study for before editing a video of my playing piano.
” I look at him to make sure I’m not boring him with my monotonous routine, but his reassuring smile encourages me to continue.
“And if I’m on the schedule, which is five days out of the week, then I’m at the TapHouse. ”
“Have you ever thought about having a piano night there?”
I shrug and shake my head. “I mean, the thought has crossed my mind. But I don't think any of the classical pieces I’m trained in fit that vibe.”
“And that’s where opening your own piano bar comes in?”
“I like that you remembered,” I mumble just loud enough for him to hear.
“When it comes to you, I remember everything.”
That feeling I get when I’m playing the piano, and I know the finale is coming up, so I get this excited energy to float through people–that’s how I feel around Brandon. Like every moment is a crescendo. Loud. Excitement. Joy. Love.
If I open my mind, I think I could love someone out loud.
If I open my heart, I think I could love him out loud.