"I don't know what I'm doing! I mix drinks, damn it. That's what I'm good at."
"Evidently." He stood up and tucked the stool back in. "Ray, this menu isn't right for your bar. Why don't you leave the menu to someone you hire?"
"Because I can't find anyone to hire," I reminded him with another sigh. "That's why I'm begging you."
He grinned. "The last time you begged me was when I had you in an armlock."
"My shoulder still hurts."
"You deserved it. You shouldn't have told Mom you found used condom wrappers in our bathroom."
"You shouldn't have put them there." I poked out my tongue, suddenly fifteen again. "Do you know anyone who can help me?"
His grin went lopsided. "I do, but you'd burn the place down if he set foot in here."
I shook my head so fast that I was surprised it didn't fall right off my neck. "Nope. And if he does set foot in my bar, I'm going to kick his ass right out."
"He's one of the best chefs I know. You should consider it. He's-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Mom practically put on a Broadway production with the song and dance she made when she found out." I paused. "I don't care if Parker Hamilton is Michelin-starred or has a fast-track to Heaven. He's not working for me. I'm not that desperate."
And I never would be.
I'd rather lose the money I'd put into the kitchen than hire my brother's asshole best friend.
Ryan held his hands up, a stance he took often with me. There was a chance I was, like the rest of the women on my mother's side, in possession of the stereotypical Mediterranean...flamboyancy.
See: loud, slightly hot temper.
"I'm just saying," he said after a few moments. "I know you don't get along, but the option is there. Isn't hiring Parker better than losing your money?"
"No." I wiped down the handle of the beer tap nearest to me. "I can safely say I would rather gamble my entire life on the entire population of California's porn industry being STD-free."
"That's not a betting tip I would give you."
"It's not one I'd entertain, which tells you how vehemently against hiring him I am."
"Whatever. I don't get it. Think about what I said about that menu, though. Consider asking your interviewees what they'd put on your menu." He rapped his knuckles against the bar. "I've gotta go see Mom. She wants me to put a menu together for the reunion ." His eyes sparkled as he said it.
"Sure," I called after him. "You'll help her."
"It's self-preservation!" He threw his hand up over his shoulder in a wave and let himself out of the bar.
I shook my head as I continued cleaning.
I wanted to say that my feelings toward my brother's best friend weren't personal, but they were. I didn't have a reason, I just didn't like him. We'd never, ever gotten along, and there was a reason that every time we were together, we were separated like freaking toddlers.
Sure, I'd once thrown a hunk of pork at him, but that was an accident.
Kind of.
We were opposite people. We made chalk and cheese look like best friends. There wasn't a specific thing I could put my finger on, and whenever either of us were asked why we couldn't be friends, we didn't have an answer. It was just a general kind of mutual hatred.
Funnily enough, the times that everyone accepted we simply despised each other were the times we got along almost like friends.
But, I hadn't seen him for three-and-a-half-years. This was the first time he'd come anywhere near home since he landed a job in some fancy New York City restaurant five years ago. That was where he'd gotten his three Michelin stars just before Christmas.
Now, the gossip line-AKA, my mother-said he'd taken "extended leave" for some downtime after achieving his goal at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.
Extended leave my left tit. He'd quit, and that was something I'd put money on.
I had no doubt that despite the time passed, when I eventually saw Parker again, he'd be the same asshole he'd always been to me. I certainly had no plans to be anything but the sassy little shit I'd always been to him.
In fact, sassy little shit was my default personality. This mouth was made for sassin'.
A huff escaped me as I finish cleaning the taps. I would take my brother's advice on the menu, but I wasn't going to hire Parker Hamilton to work in my kitchen.
***
There were few things I really loved about my life. The freedom with my business, the fact I lived right on top of my business, and my friends were the top three.