I swung myself around the bannister in a whizz of motion and smacked hard into Chris as he came up the stairs.
“Ah, Jesus, Amy.” Chris rubbed at his arm. “Stop swinging on the stairs like a chimp.”
My mouth gaped as I rubbed my shoulder. “I’ll give you chimp, you chump. Get out of my way!”
Chris continued to rub his own arm and glowered at me, but there was something different in his expression.
“What?” I snapped.
“You look different.” He spoke in a way that made me think he didn’t wholly approve.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Stupid hair. I probably looked ridiculous.
“Max starts tonight,” Chris said as he walked past me towards his bedroom.
“Oh, my God, I forgot. How did his interview go today?”
A part of the working bee had been to meet with some potential staff. I had left it to Chris to take care of that while I had cooked the barbecue. The report was obviously promising if he was starting tonight.
“He worked behind the jump at the golf club, has good references, and seems pretty switched on.”
“Excellent.”
“It doesn’t mean we can slack off, though; not until he learns the ropes.”
I made a face behind Chris’s back – he was always such a killjoy.
I tried to act all casual, even attempting to lean my elbow on the bannister for effect, but I just felt ridiculous. I cleared my throat. “Many in the bar?” I called up to him.
The click of Chris’s bedroom light sounded as he came back out, wrestling a clean T-shirt over his head. He finally freed himself of the cocoon and I instinctively reached out to push his messed-up hair back into place.
“What did you say?” he asked, tilting his head away to avoid my fussing.
“Many downstairs?” I tried to keep my voice even as I followed Chris down the hall towards the stairs.
“A few. It’s only early.”
Always so full of information.
“Oh,” I said, a little deflated.
“Stan and Sean just got here, though.”
I misstepped and had to grab onto the bannister to prevent myself from ping-ponging my way down the stairs. I thanked God that Chris was in front of me so I could recover from my fumble. It was only seven o’clock – usually no one would traditionally venture out unless it was for dinner and we couldn’t even offer that yet. I almost wanted to trek back upstairs and blow-dry my hair pin straight and wipe off my make-up. The last thing I wanted was to look like Olivia Newton-John at the end of Grease. Fortunately, I wasn’t dressed in Lycra but I was feeling uneasy that maybe I was a bit done up, a bit overdressed just to be working behind the bar. Usually anyone just opted for non-assuming black and here I was in dark, fitted bootleg jeans and an electric blue, fitted V-neck that would no doubt have me marched straight back upstairs to change if my dad was here. The look from Chris was enough. Yeah, it was snug but it wasn’t that bad.
Oh God, is it?
Too late. It was time to start my shift.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
There he was.
Sean stood out amongst the crowd as he always did: tall, tanned and chiselled. His dimples were exposed with each heartfelt smile he flashed. I remembered from years ago that his careless hair was always cropped so short you couldn’t usually make out its colour. But this summer it was thick and wavy brown, lightened from days in the sun. His eyes focused earnestly and respectfully in conversation, the conversation he was having with …
“Whoa. Is that Tammy Maskala?” Chris appeared next to me.
I glowered across the room to where she stood, tall, lean, and toned. Her halter clung to her curves and her long, sculpted legs were exposed under her black miniskirt. She had her handbag draped casually on one shoulder, her long brown hair swept over the other.
Her laughter rang out across the room at something Sean had said. Oh God, even her laugh was delightful.
“Yeah, that’s her,” I said, unenthusiastically. Anyone would think she was my lifelong enemy, instead of my high school best friend.
“If you want to go hang with her you can knock off if you want,” Chris said. “We’re not exactly run off our feet.”
Great, the one time I wanted to keep myself busy was the night I could knock off and socialise.
I sighed. “Thanks.”
“Gee, don’t sound so enthused,” Chris said sarcastically.
I grabbed myself a raspberry vodka Cruiser, twisted the lid off, and took a deep swig. I could retire upstairs for the night if I wanted, just disappear, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I cursed my inquisitive nature and psyched myself up to go into the poolroom bar. I couldn’t exactly sit in the main bar – there was no one else around. It would look pathetic. Funnily enough, that was exactly how I felt.