My grin back has her looking more relaxed and I throw in a wink that makes her laugh again. I walk further behind the bar and start serving myself. With Laurel by my side work takes on a whole new level of fun and when I get asked for cocktails by a group of women I grab the opportunity to show off some of the flair moves I learnt.
I take a glass in each hand, open my palms out and spin them twice. Throwing some ice cubes up in the air I catch them using the glasses and get a cheer as people stop talking and turn their heads towards me. My heart starts beating a little faster as I look over at Laurel and she’s just finished with a customer so is leaning with her hip against the bar, watching. I take the metal half of the Boston shaker in my left hand and the bottle of Malibu in my right, throw the tin up in the air and swipe the bottle underneath. I then throw the bottle over my right shoulder, swap the tin to the other hand and catch the bottle with my left hand. People are cheering loudly as I throw the bottle back up behind me and catch it again in my right hand; spin it a couple of times then pour it into the tin. I take the pause to look over to Laurel and she’s smiling at me, and gives a nod of encouragement. I’m thankful the moves have held up and I continue to throw drinks up in the air and around my body. I get hollas and whoops and enthusiastic claps as I finish up and hand it to the customer in front of me. I playfully take a bow in front of everyone, relieved beyond belief I didn’t drop anything.
When the audience goes back to chatting I start wiping down the counter and Laurel’s hand on my arm startles me. “Nice moves. Where did you learn those?” She says as she leans back against the bar and rests her hands on the edge.
“The Masons made me take mixology and flair bartending classes a while ago because they thought it would bring in a new type of clientele. They were trying to be hip. But I only get to do it when it’s busy and we have a younger crowd in. The old men that come in during the week are not impressed with me throwing around a cocktail shaker. Unless I fill it with beer, of course.”
She laughs and we get interrupted by a few more customers buying drinks. The evening dies down and Laurel spends the next hour dancing with the girls. I should be worried that James is still around sitting with Blake and Adam on the other side of the room, but I’m not. It’s pretty obvious he likes her, I’ve seen him staring at her a few times and I think he’s struggling with what he’s feeling. He has a different girl bat her eyelashes at him every night he comes in, but the possessive look in his eyes tonight says she’s different. As much as I like her, there’s something between them that’s unfinished; I need to let that play out first because if I allow anything more to happen between us, she’s going to end up owning me.
“Hey,” she says breathlessly, sitting on a barstool in front of me. “Can I have a tap water please?”
“Coming right up.” I turn the tap on, fill the glass and hand it over to her. “Thanks for helping out earlier. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Oh, no problem. It was so much fun. I think I’ve found another career if I ever get bored with wedding dresses.” I smile, and serve another customer before turning back to her.
“I think we need to talk about earlier. Do you wanna come through?” I gesture to the back and she swallows her gulp of water before nodding and walking round the side. I call one of the team over to keep an eye on the bar then walk down the stairs behind her.
My office is just a small room off the corridor with a desk and chair on the right hand side and a sofa on the left. Laurel perches on the edge of the desk so I do the same and fold my arms in front.
“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be a good conversation? Arms folded in front is always a defensive move,” she says nervously and all
I take a glass in each hand, open my palms out and spin them twice. Throwing some ice cubes up in the air I catch them using the glasses and get a cheer as people stop talking and turn their heads towards me. My heart starts beating a little faster as I look over at Laurel and she’s just finished with a customer so is leaning with her hip against the bar, watching. I take the metal half of the Boston shaker in my left hand and the bottle of Malibu in my right, throw the tin up in the air and swipe the bottle underneath. I then throw the bottle over my right shoulder, swap the tin to the other hand and catch the bottle with my left hand. People are cheering loudly as I throw the bottle back up behind me and catch it again in my right hand; spin it a couple of times then pour it into the tin. I take the pause to look over to Laurel and she’s smiling at me, and gives a nod of encouragement. I’m thankful the moves have held up and I continue to throw drinks up in the air and around my body. I get hollas and whoops and enthusiastic claps as I finish up and hand it to the customer in front of me. I playfully take a bow in front of everyone, relieved beyond belief I didn’t drop anything.
When the audience goes back to chatting I start wiping down the counter and Laurel’s hand on my arm startles me. “Nice moves. Where did you learn those?” She says as she leans back against the bar and rests her hands on the edge.
“The Masons made me take mixology and flair bartending classes a while ago because they thought it would bring in a new type of clientele. They were trying to be hip. But I only get to do it when it’s busy and we have a younger crowd in. The old men that come in during the week are not impressed with me throwing around a cocktail shaker. Unless I fill it with beer, of course.”
She laughs and we get interrupted by a few more customers buying drinks. The evening dies down and Laurel spends the next hour dancing with the girls. I should be worried that James is still around sitting with Blake and Adam on the other side of the room, but I’m not. It’s pretty obvious he likes her, I’ve seen him staring at her a few times and I think he’s struggling with what he’s feeling. He has a different girl bat her eyelashes at him every night he comes in, but the possessive look in his eyes tonight says she’s different. As much as I like her, there’s something between them that’s unfinished; I need to let that play out first because if I allow anything more to happen between us, she’s going to end up owning me.
“Hey,” she says breathlessly, sitting on a barstool in front of me. “Can I have a tap water please?”
“Coming right up.” I turn the tap on, fill the glass and hand it over to her. “Thanks for helping out earlier. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Oh, no problem. It was so much fun. I think I’ve found another career if I ever get bored with wedding dresses.” I smile, and serve another customer before turning back to her.
“I think we need to talk about earlier. Do you wanna come through?” I gesture to the back and she swallows her gulp of water before nodding and walking round the side. I call one of the team over to keep an eye on the bar then walk down the stairs behind her.
My office is just a small room off the corridor with a desk and chair on the right hand side and a sofa on the left. Laurel perches on the edge of the desk so I do the same and fold my arms in front.
“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be a good conversation? Arms folded in front is always a defensive move,” she says nervously and all
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