Mixed Up(9)

"Why the fuck didn't we know that?" Cam turned to Lani. "Did you know that?"

"I don't exactly advertise it on a billboard, yano." I picked up their empty glasses with one hand and looked at Parker. "You see the kind of thing you've started now?"

He held up his hands, his eyes sparkling. "It's not my fault if you don't tell your friends about your crazy family."

"Why are you here again?"

"I'm waiting to see if you'll burn down the bar."

"I'm seriously contemplating it. I do have matchbooks behind the register."

"Do you want me to start it for you?"

"Only if you'll trap me in here so I don't have to speak to you ever again."

"Damn," Lani breathed. "That's some real hatred right there. Hey, Raven, remember when I hated Brett?"

Cam giggled.

"Brett?" Parker glanced at her.

Her lips twisted to the side. "My boyfriend."

I stared at Lani. "Don't you have work to do or something?"

Her smile grew when she met my eyes. "Point taken. I'll call you tomorrow."

"No, you won't."

"Yeah, I will." She laughed as she stood with Camille. "Early. Make sure you're awake."

I rolled my eyes. She knew I was always up at six. I had to be if I wanted to open by midday. This bar didn't organize itself, and I had an interview at nine-thirty tomorrow.

I hoped like hell it'd be better than the one I'd had this afternoon. The poor girl thought I meant a bar position, not a chef. And she was twenty.

I was attracting all the underage people, it seemed.

"How did your interview go this afternoon?" Parker asked when I got done serving a couple.

I sighed heavily and leaned against the bar again. "It was a mess. At this point, I'm hoping tomorrow's will be better."

"Did you take Ryan's suggestion?"

"No, I ignored him, obviously."

"You just breathe sarcasm, don't you?"

"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me." I shot him a smile before taking two more glasses from the bar. "Thank you!" I called after the pair of girls who left the bar. They smiled and waved before leaving. 

I paused after putting the dirty glasses in the washer. The only people who were here now were the couple in the corner. Otherwise it was just me and Parker. I let out a long breath-that couple would be the last customers of the night, so I picked up the controller for the music and turned it down a little so it wasn't so deafening.

"What are you going to do if tomorrow's interview isn't better?" Parker asked when I got closer to him.

All I could do was shrug. That was my last interview that was lined up. I had no idea what I was going to do, if I was honest. Abandoning it was the best option I had at this point.

He finished the last of his drink and put his empty glass down in front of me. His dark gaze captured mine as he said only a few words.

"If it fucks up, call me."

Then, he left, leaving me taking a deep breath in and staring at him.

No way.

No way in hell.





***





The guy looked promising. He at least seemed to match the age on the resume he'd sent in. From the moment he'd stepped through the door, he'd been looking around the bar as if he was taking it in. He'd even asked to see the kitchen and seemed suitably impressed with the setup I had.

He should have been impressed. My brother was responsible for the kitchen because apparently, he didn't trust me to buy a toaster.

"So, Alex," I said, tapping my pen once against my notepad. "How many years have you been in a kitchen?"

"Only two," he answered, flicking his dark hair from his eyes. "I was a late starter, but I've had a few months experience at a restaurant in Miami."

"Are you still there?"

"No...I didn't get along well with my boss."

Awesome.

I pulled out his resume and scanned it. "And that's The Red Snapper?"

He nodded.

"Will they give you a reference if I call them?"

"They should." Alex clasped his hands in front of him on the table. "It was a...personal disagreement."

"A personal disagreement," I said flatly, sliding the paper back beneath my notepad. "Is that something I should be worried about?"

"Do you have a daughter old enough to date?"

"How old do you think I am?"

He grimaced. "That came out wrong."

"Why don't we move on?" This guy is thicker than two girthy cocks put together. "Here's the menu my friends drew up. How would you change this to be more unique and appealing for my customers?" I pushed the laminated sheet across to him.

He picked it up. His brows drew together as he read it, and only a minute later, he set it back down and met my gaze. "I'd add some seafood, but other than that, I don't see many other changes. How fancy does a cocktail bar food need to be?"