Chapter 4

Keavy~

I walked into Miller's Brewery & Tap right at six o'clock, the beginning of my shift. I got off at two-thirty in the morning, but the night crew was also good about making sure that everyone was out by two, making clean-up quick and easy. Honestly, the bar manager, Tilly, had it the worst because she couldn't leave until all the registers were balanced, or until everything was locked away securely in the safe.

Now, when I had first applied to work here as a bartender, I hadn't been that impressed. All bars had seemed the same to me, so I hadn't thought of Miller's as anything special. However, I'd been quickly proven wrong when Tilly had shown me around, astounding me with the back room set up. For whatever reason, the owner had invested in his employees by building one hell of a break room, giving us a place to relax and secure our belongings without worry.

Heading straight to the back to put my stuff away, I grinned over at Casey, one of the day-shift bartenders. "Hey, Casey," I greeted.

"Hey, Keavy," she greeted back. "Glad to see you, girl."

That was her way of saying that she had to get home, so I hurried to go put my stuff away. Casey was a new mom, and even though her husband, Milo, did his best to shoulder the burden, they were two new parents trying to balance life with a newborn.

As soon as I put my stuff away, I grabbed a black apron with Miller's logo on it, then wrapped it around my waist. Tonight, I was dressed in a plain white t-shirt, black jeans, black ankle boots, with my hair thrown up, my hoop earrings dangling away, and my makeup subtle but apparent. I'd learned a bit from watching some tutorials, but makeup still felt kind of foreign to me sometimes. Plus, most of my wardrobe consisted of white t-shirts, so it hadn't been like I'd dressed up or anything.

Once I was behind the bar, I said, "You've been paroled, ma'am. You're free to go."

Casey smiled, already taking off her apron. "You're a godsend."

"I'm something," I muttered, making her laugh.

Just then, Porgy came walking into the bar, noticed me, then pointed his finger my way. "You've got me tonight, babe."

"Did Charolette call in sick?"

"Claims that she's got the stomach flu, but I think she's pregnant," he answered.

"What makes you think that?"

"She's been catching the flu about once a week for like a month." He walked behind the bar, high-fiving Casey on her way out, then grabbed an apron. "I keep telling her to go pee on a stick already."

"Why doesn't she?"

His face grimaced a bit. "Apparently, she and Scott are having some issues, so I think she's afraid to find out." He sighed as he shook his head. "Bad situation."

"Ouch," I winced. "That does suck."

Porgy nodded as he let out another sigh. "Being an adult isn't the glamorous shit that we always think as kids. If I knew then what I knew now, I would have appreciated my childhood a lot more."

I grinned. "What's not glamorous about making horrible mistakes with no one else to take responsibility for them?"

The man grinned back. "There's also the ability to purchase alcohol legally and really fuck up our lives."

"That's what makes you my kindred spirit," I quipped.

"Speaking of kindred spirits," he drawled out. "Minnie mentioned the wedding again."

I eyed him quickly as a new patron sat at the bar. "I thought you told her that you had to work?"

"I did," he replied. "She doesn't understand why I can't trade shifts with someone."

Ignoring that, I went over to the newcomer. Smiling, I asked, "What can I get you?"

"Do you have something that can erase this past week?" he asked, and that's when I noticed how tired his hazel eyes looked.

"I do," I answered. "However, it comes with a side of a I-wish-I-were-dead-hangover."

The man grinned, and his eyes went from tired to mirthful, making him a lot more attractive than I had originally given him credit for. At about six-foot, he had dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, and had that clean-cut baseball look about him. Not one tattoo in sight, but I'd bet that any tattoos on his body would be a homage to his mother or family. He looked very nice, very presentable, and very safe. He'd probably be horrified to find out that I knew how to snap a man's neck in two.

"Maybe just a whiskey," he replied. "I have to work tomorrow."

"That really is the horror of needing a drink on a Thursday," I quipped. "Any particular brand?"

He shook his head. "Whatever you have open is fine."

Yeah, very safe.

Porgy just finished arranging the towels when I reached for the house whiskey. "So, what did you end up telling her?"

"I told her that I wasn't going to inconvenience someone like that," he answered, picking up from where we'd left off. "I also reiterated my previous point. We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks, so a family wedding is way too serious an event for where we are right now." He visibly shivered. "Christ, I can only imagine how many people would ask us when we're next."

I laughed as I poured the whiskey. "That's why I'm single."

Porgy nudged my hips with his thigh. "You're single because predictability bores you."

Tossing him a wink, I grabbed the tumbler of whiskey, then walked over to Baseball Guy. "Here you go," I said, placing the glass in front of him. "While it can't erase your troubles from your mind, it'll help you sleep better tonight."

He smirked as he reached for the glass. "The crying one-year-old that I have at home says otherwise."

I winced. "Teething?"

"That, or else he just hates me," he replied, making my lips twitch.

"That's always a possibility."

"The only consolation is that he seems to hate his mother, too." I finally laughed at that. "We've tried everything, and that kid just doesn't seem to care that he's driving us crazy."

"And then, one day, he's going to be graduating from high school, and you and your wife will be wishing that you had these sleepless teething nights back again," I said.

He smiled again. "Ain't it the truth."

"Miss?"

I knocked on the wood once before walking over towards the two females that had just sat down at the bar. While Baseball Guy was dressed like he'd just gotten off work, these two were dressed for dick, and good for them.

"What can I help you with, ladies?"

The blonde looked at me boldly. "Can you castrate my cheating fuck of a boyfriend?"

Actually, I could.

Instead, I said, "Uhm, I'm pretty sure that's not on the shelf tonight."

"It should be," her friend harrumphed. "It should be on every shelf in every bar in America."

"It should be everywhere where there are cheating assholes," the blonde huffed.

"How about a glass of wine, a shot of tequila, then a nice toast to him getting herpes?" I suggested. "Castration would make one hell of a mess anyway."

The blonde grinned, but it was easy to see the hurt in her eyes, making me doubly glad that I was single. "Herpes sounds good."

"Yeah," her friend agreed. "It's the gift that keeps on giving."

"I'll be right back."

"Whatcha got over there?" Porgy asked as he eyed me pouring the tequila.

"Cheating boyfriend, and the guy with the whiskey has a teething baby at home," I told him. "What do you have?"

"The guy in the blue tie didn't get a promotion, and the woman in the white shirt hates her boss enough to want to set the man's home on fire," he replied.

Now, while not everyone at Miller's did this, Porgy and I shared the stories of our customers for safety reasons. If our patrons were here for your everyday variety bullshit, then that was okay. However, if someone was here for something deeper, then this was our way of being on guard. Emotions were a funny thing, and it only took a second for a fight to break out in a place like this.

After taking the women their wine and tequila, we toasted to the ex and his future journey with herpes, and then the place started getting packed enough that Porgy and I were both grateful when Leah showed up for her shift. Though the pay was good, the people were entertaining, and I was good at what I did, my breaks and lunch were still welcomed pauses to my work night.

It was also my Monday.