Chapter 20 Aspen #2
He was the first thing I saw. Being a Tuesday evening, the place was a lot less crowded than it had been the last time I’d been here.
So I had a straight shot, wide-open view to the bar in the back.
Blue fluorescent lights sprayed down on his dark hair, and the black cloth of his T-shirt looked especially nice stretching across his wide, thick shoulders.
A pinch in my chest had me sucking in a breath.
He was busy, absorbed in his work, setting up a row of shots.
His hands were fluid and graceful as he flipped over each glass with adept speed and then poured his way down the line.
Everything about him was so freaking captivating.
When he sprawled in his seat during class, doodling in his notebook with lazy strokes as if he wasn’t paying attention to a thing I taught.
When he directed his team on the field, calling plays and pointing out commands to his teammates.
And definitely when he played Tom Cruise from Cocktail.
My parents would disown me if they knew how much I loved eighties movies. But I didn’t care. I’d always had a thing for bartenders because of that one. I liked them almost as much as I’d been drawn to football players.
This was bad; he sucked me in way too easily. I should go. He hadn’t seen me come in. I still had a chance to escape before he noticed I’d turned into a total creeper. But, nope, I didn’t budge.
A waitress approached me and tried to take my order, but I waved her off with a smile and shake of my head. And returned to my stalking.
Noel Gamble really was a sight to behold. As he handled his own customers, he still had time to pause and help the other bartender mix his drinks correctly.
When the flow of traffic to the bar died off, I was drawn closer.
I nibbled on the corner of my lip, telling myself to stay back, but yeah, that didn’t work out so well.
I kept drifting toward the light. Except another woman passing by the other side of the bar caught Noel’s attention.
He glanced briefly at her, only to do a double take.
Jealousy slapped me right across the face. It was so easy for him to notice other women. I obviously didn’t mean as much to him as he’d made it sound in his essay.
But then his eyes narrowed on her. “Hey, Jess,” he called, tipping up his chin as he tried to catch her attention.
She ignored him and kept walking, entering a hall in the corner and disappearing down it.
Ripping off the drying towel he had slung over his shoulder, he slapped it against the bar and growled, “I’ll be right back. You got the bar okay?”
The dark-haired guy working with him lifted his face in surprise. “Umm…”
“Thanks,” Noel called, not even glancing at his coworker as he dodged out the back side of the counter and streaked into the hall in hot pursuit of the woman.
Who was she? How well did he know her? How much of his naked body has she seen?
All questions I had no right or business asking, even as they repeated through my head with a stupid obsession I couldn’t turn off.
Since I’d already given in to so much of my inner stalker tonight, I figured it couldn’t hurt to give in to a little more.
I wandered to the opening of the hall, trying to appear as casual and nonchalant as possible, and was rewarded to learn he hadn’t gone very far down.
Slapping open the first door on the left side, he barged inside what looked like an office from the brief glimpse and angle I saw of a filing cabinet.
He left the door wide open and stopped in the threshold, jamming his hands to his hips, his shoulders braced with anger.
“Nice to see you, Jessie.” Clipped with sarcasm, his voice floated back to me perfectly.
“What’s it been? Two weeks? Yeah, that sounds about right, since I’ve worked here every fucking night since then and haven’t seen you at all. ”
“What’s this?” The woman’s voice came through a little more muffled, but I could still hear her clearly enough. “The employee’s actually lecturing the boss?”
He gave a hard laugh. “Boss? That’s funny. Because from what I can tell, we haven’t had a damn boss since your dad’s been here.”
“Are you trying to piss me off, Gamble?”
“You know what, let me tell you what’s been going on here since you last decided to grace us with your presence, and you tell me which one of us has the right to be pissed off?
Last week, we ran out of our most popular lager, but don’t worry.
” He lifted his hands as if to ease her panic.
“I reordered more. You’re welcome. But they shipped us the wrong batch, so I had to straighten out that clusterfuck.
You’re welcome. Then, the fire marshal stopped by.
Our quarterly inspection was overdue, so all your dedicated employees worked our asses off to make sure everything was kosher for the inspection we had yesterday.
Which you’re welcome for…again. Next, Tansy was in a car accident and broke her leg.
She’s one of your best servers, by the way, since I’m sure you have no clue.
But yeah, don’t worry about that. I called every girl who works the floor and we rearranged things until all of Tansy’s shifts are covered for the next six weeks, which, oh yeah, you’re welcome for that too.
And I made an order for all the other liquors we’re running low on. ”
He paused before nodding and adding one last, slow, taunting, “You’re welcome.”
Instead of gushing out an apology or thanking him for everything he’d done, his boss only snorted. “If you came to tell me all the issues have been handled, then what the hell are you whining about?”
Noel jerked a hand off his hip and slapped the door.
“I’m not getting paid to take care of your job and mine both.
You’re lucky it’s not football season, or you’d be shit out of luck right now.
I can’t keep doing this, Jess. And by the way, you’re scheduling is all fucked up.
Steffie’s only signed up for two hours a week, while Gracie’s working her ass off with fifty. ”
“So? I don’t like Steffie.”
“Well, you didn’t hire Steffie. Your dad did. And if you don’t want him to disown you after he gets back and find out how shitty of a job you’ve done, you’d better pull your head out of your ass and actually work once in a while.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Just…” Stepping backward out of the office as if he couldn’t bear to talk to her a moment longer, Noel muttered, “Fix the damn schedules, will you? I can’t keep working this much. And hire another bartender while you’re at it. I need a night off, or some goddamn sleep, sometime this year.”
“I’d say so. You’ve turned into a fucking crab.”
“Jess,” he growled warningly.
“Jesus, if you’re so all-fired to get a better schedule and new bartender, then you take care of it. Seems like you’ve gotten used to running this place, anyway.”
The muscles in his back tensed, but he merely growled, “Fine. I will.”
“Oh, and here are the fucking notes everyone gives me, whining for all the days they want off.”
Noel stepped inside only to reemerge a moment later, his hand fisted around a ball of paper scraps.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, storming right toward me.
But he seemed so mad he didn’t even notice me.
I ducked out of the way just as he exited the hall and marched back behind the bar.
Dumping the pile of notes onto the counter in the back, he began to organize them.
“Is a fuzzy navel made of peach or orange juice?” his clueless coworker asked a minute later.
“Both,” Noel answered without looking up. “Ice it, add one and a half ounces of peach schnapps and top that off with orange juice.”
“Thanks. What’re you doing, anyway?”
“Fixing the damn schedule.”
“Really? Hey, can you get me more than sixteen hours a week?”
Noel stopped what he was doing and lifted his face. “What the hell? She only put you in for sixteen hours a week? Figures.” He went back to work. “But yeah, you got it.” Then he paused and lifted a slip of torn paper to his eyes, squinting.
“Yo, Lowe,” he called as his coworker began to leave. “What’s this say?”
Lowe came back and took the sheet. He blinked and turned it upside down before handing it back. “No clue.”
Noel sighed and rubbed his face. “Great.”
“Noel, table eight needs refills.”
He glanced at the waitress who’d approached. “Sure. Oh! Hey, Mandy. Can you read this?”
He let her look it over while he pulled up a round of bottled beers.
With an apologetic smile, she shook her head and gave the paper back. “Sorry, sweetie. But it looks like Julia’s handwriting if that helps.”
“Julia,” he murmured, scanning the tables. “She’s not working tonight, is she?”
“Nope.” Mandy grabbed the beers and was gone.
He looked so defeated as he set the note on the bar and shook his head, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t handle seeing him like this. He worked so hard, at everything. The guy needed a break. Or better yet, he needed my help.
“Let me see,” I said and came in close enough to slide the paper across the bar away from him. “I’m used to trying to decipher sloppy handwriting.”
When he glanced up and only blinked at me, I sent him a nervous smile, rolling my eyes. “And usually it’s other professors’ penmanship, not students, that are the worst.”
A breath rushed from his lungs. “What’re you doing here?”
Ignoring the questions because I couldn’t handle the answer, I studied the slip of paper before looking up.
He looked so thunderstruck, I was actually afraid of the force of joy that pulsed through me.
I should not get a thrill out of pleasing him, but oh God, I felt like a junkie. I had to do more to make him smile.
“It says ‘need off every Friday for son’s ballgames.’” Then I glanced away, unable to take the pressure I felt in my chest from simply looking into his periwinkle eyes.