2. Chapter Two

Tending bar was like riding a bike. My muscles remembered the movements, dodging the other bartender, shaking up cocktails, swiping credit cards with one hand, and tucking away a phone number with the other. I hadn't done this since college, but some things didn't change.

Sorta made me wistful, but not enough to go back to that era. I shouldn't have been here tonight. If not for a favor, I wouldn't have been. I had no problem finding trouble if I wanted to—bar or not.

I was mixing a drink when movement caught my eye. Lloyd was on the other end of the bar, so I knew it wasn't him without looking. Not that there was a chance of mistaking the small, brunette woman with a funny hat perched on the side of her head for my pale, bald, six-and-a-half-foot barkeep.

Before I could ask her why she was back here, she rushed away, leaving a pink box tucked beneath the lip of the bar.

Call me George, because I was a curious little guy. I finished up the drink I was making, then I was on it, flipping the lid to the box to check out the contents.

Tiny. Pretty. Cupcakes.

A few dozen, from the look of it.

Strange of her to stash them behind the bar, but okay. Maybe they were a treat Nick had delivered to Lloyd and me for holding down the fort in his absence. If she were a delivery girl, the funny hat made sense, I guessed. Though, she could have worked on her people skills.

Not a guy to let things go to waste, I picked a cupcake drizzled with caramel, peeled the paper, and popped the whole thing in my mouth.

Oh shit.

Baby Buddha on a bicycle.

I am now a convert to whatever religion these cupcakes belong to.

It had to be a fluke. There was no way all the cupcakes were as good.

I selected another, one with pink frosting and a sliver of strawberry on top. This one, I bit into, fucking delighted to find strawberry compote inside. I'd never considered myself a big fan of sweets, but in these cupcakes I trusted.

Unfortunately, I was pulled away by impatient customers and had to take a break. The good thing? Lloyd was unaware of the existence of the pink box so I could hoard them to myself for a while longer.

Or maybe forever.

I hadn't decided how big of a dick I wanted to be yet.

The woman with the silly hat slipped behind the bar as I was pouring a beer with a thick, foamy head that was making my mouth water. Swallowing hard, I turned my attention to the small trespasser.

Her hat had this black netting that draped over her heavy, dark brown bangs, and she had a tray hanging from a velvet strap around her neck.

Interesting. Confusing, but definitely interesting.

She went straight for the pink box, sweeping open the lid. Had she dropped it off in the wrong place? In that case, the rightful recipient was going to be a few cupcakes shy of a full delivery.

"What the fuck?" she muttered.

I sidled closer as her head jerked up. Her eyes narrowed beneath her veil then quickly landed on me with a flare before dropping back to suspicious slits.

"Did you eat cupcakes from this box?"

For such a small person, she loaded a lot of threat into one question.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not normally a stickler for rules, but in this case, I'm going to have to be. If you need something, hang out on the other side of the bar, and I'll be more than happy to serve you."

Her red lips formed an O as she blinked at me. A girl who looked like she did, even in her funny hat, probably wasn't used to being put in her place. To be fair, if this were my bar, I'd let her fuck around back here all she wanted just because she was nice to look at and I liked her cupcakes. But this was Nick's place. Rules were rules unless he said otherwise.

"Where's Nick?" she asked.

"Not here tonight." I made a sweeping gesture. "Move a couple feet and park yourself on the opposite side of the bar and we can talk about whatever you need."

She rolled her eyes with a huff. "Okay, new guy. Obviously, you don't know how things work. Call Nick. He'll explain." Propping her tray on the bar, she started loading cupcakes onto half, next to cups with…meat in them?

"Excuse me. I don't have time to argue right now. I have cupcakes and charcuterie cups to sell."

"Sell?" I spluttered. "What makes you think you can come in here and sell cupcakes?"

"Call Nick and ask him." She didn't stop moving, efficiently filling her tray. My stomach protested with a growl as she emptied the box. "Or Lloyd or Bea or Duke."

"I'm asking you," I bit out more sharply than intended.

She had me on my back foot. My defenses were raised. I really didn't like the feeling of not being in on something everyone else was, and this woman, with her tray of treats, was not telling me what was going on.

Finally, her eyes raised to mine. "Nice power trip. Did they teach you that in bartending school?"

She made an about face and flounced away from me, her short, pleated leather skirt bouncing with each step. I swallowed hard again. Tearing my eyes from this brand of temptation wasn't as easy.

Stopping at the first table to flag her down, she plastered on a smile for a group of guys I could read as fake from here. They laughed at something she said, and she shimmied her shoulders to show off her goods.

That was when I got it.

She was like a cigarette girl from the old days, only instead of tobacco, her tray held treats. Nick, the fuck, hadn't told me about this addition to his business. I'd helped him open this place. We'd planned it from soups to nuts. And he'd never uttered a word about hiring a cigarette girl. I observed her flitting from table to table, selling her meat cups and cupcakes. Nick might've been onto something. I didn't know what she was charging, but customers were paying.

Fingers snapped in front of my face, bringing me back to the present—to the job I'd volunteered for and had been neglecting to watch a woman in a silly hat.

The surly, blue-haired waitress, Bea, was frowning at me. I'd noted she frowned at everyone, so I didn't take it personally.

"Wake up, Preppy. I have orders for you."

I got started on her orders while she tapped her long nails on the bar top.

Cocking my head, I said, "Preppy, huh?"

"If the deck shoe fits."

I almost got offended at the implication of having ever worn deck shoes, but then I remembered that time in the Hamptons. And sailing on Lake Cuomo in high school. And…yeah, there had been more instances. Several of them.

Bea snapped again. "My tips are dwindling every second I stand here while you wallow in your feels."

"I'm not wallowing." More like ruminating. "Hey, you know the girl with the cupcakes?"

"Yep."

"She's allowed to be here?"

"Yep."

"Nick didn't mention it."

"Nick's an asshole."

I slid the first round of drinks to her. She waited for the rest.

"You know he's my friend, right?"

She shrugged. "I've called him an asshole to his face. Why would I have a problem calling him one behind his back?"

"Fair point, I guess."

She lifted a finger, jabbing it toward me. "Leave Daisy alone."

"I would if I knew who Daisy was."

Bea didn't care to enlighten me. Grabbing the rest of her drinks, she loaded them onto her tray and marched away, leaving me with even more questions.

Duke was chasing out a few stragglers, and Lloyd and I were cleaning up the bar. The end of the night got me down. Seeing chairs stacked on tables and the lights on high brought a melancholy that was hard to shake.

"Excuse me."

I looked up from the glass I was polishing to find the cupcake girl holding a piece of paper out to me. Setting the glass down, I sauntered to her end of the bar and snagged it.

"What's this?"

"Your bill. By my count, you ate six of my cupcakes."

I rubbed my stomach, trying to think back to the exact number I'd consumed. "That can't be right. I ate three, maybe four."

"Six," she stated. "I keep track of my inventory."

"All right. I guess I'll have to take your word." I glanced at the total. "Nine dollars? For six cupcakes?"

She crossed her pale arms under her breasts, pushing her modest cleavage up and out.

"If you can't afford it, you shouldn't have eaten them."

I almost burst out laughing. There had never been a time in my life when I couldn't afford something I wanted. This probably explained a lot about the person I had grown into, but it wasn't like I could go back and yank the silver spoon out of my baby mouth.

Fortunately, I didn't act like a jackhole and kept my amusement to myself. I was working the bar as a favor for a friend. The rest of the employees were here because this was their job. And hell, nine dollars might've been too much for their budgets.

Taking my wallet out of my back pocket, I pulled out a twenty. "Here. Keep the change."

She grabbed the bill and tucked it in her bodice. "Thanks." Her mouth opened then closed before she said anything else.

I wasn't as smart. "You should charge more, you know. A buck fifty for a cupcake isn't enough."

Her chin shot out, defensive and proud. "They're mini."

"They're delicious. People would pay more."

"I know my business better than some random bartender." She re-folded her arms under her tits. "My charcuterie cups are eight-fifty. No one wants to deal with quarters, so they inevitably buy a cupcake to even out the cost."

"Hmmm. Smart, but have you thought about offering a discount for adding a cupcake to the meat cup while charging more individually? Two bucks a piece surely won't alienate your clientele."

I hadn't thought it possible, but her chin jutted out more, and it was cute as hell. "I'm good. Thanks for the unsolicited and unneeded advice."

"That didn't sound very sincere, and I kinda think you did need it. You're missing out on money in your pocket."

Her upper lip curled into a snarl. "There's a German word for people like you."

"Cool, it"s German lesson time." I patted my chest. "Hit me with it."

"Backpfeifengesicht."

I cocked my head. "I can't say I'm familiar with the term."

She shrugged. "I didn't expect you would be."

I laughed as she walked away again, her skirt bouncing with each step.

I Googled the term, using the best spelling I could manage, and laughed even harder. Dear fucking god, I was never telling my brother this. He would undoubtedly agree I indeed had a face badly in need of a fist.