Page 13 of Stranger to Love

I purposefully watched her leave, and predictably, she turned her head to check if I was. She smirked as she turned the corner.

Well. I was actually really glad she had come over to talk to me. Billie. I smirked to myself. I was definitely still going to call her Blondie. Once she got over the initial fear of feeling she was one step away from being arrested, she was back to the easy-going woman I had met in the bar, and that’s how I liked it. It meant she didn’t have to keep walking on eggshells around me anymore, which I was glad of. Even though it had been fun to watch her stress over it, I wasn't evil and I didn’t actually want to make her feel uncomfortable. Especially not somewhere she worked. That would have been hell for me if someone I was stressed about was at The Dam every night I was on shift.

My stomach started twisting with hunger. I sighed, opening my backpack and pulling out a sad-looking sandwich. My Mum had started making me packed lunches again, just like when I was at school. It was a sweet gesture, but it just brought back memories of being the poor kid who couldn't afford school meals and had too much pride to sign up for the free ones. Well, I guessed some things didn't change, I thought, taking a bite of the sandwich and logging into the university’s portal.

Chapter 4

Alex

I was actually dying.

No, not thinking it. I was. My feet were screaming at me, my head was pounding, and fuck, my ears were ringing. How did I used to do this every single night? Bending over that sticky bar, trying to decipher some drunken teenager’s slurred order over the blasting speakers, was my literal definition of hell.

Finally, I thought I understood him, and I started pouring three Jägerbombs. Even if that wasn't what he said, that was what he was getting. I swung the card machine around; he tapped it without fuss, and I watched him stumble away, trying to balance the three plastic cups like a tipsy toddler.

Mia bumped my hip and placed a shot in front of me, as if neat vodka were the magical cure for all my troubles that night. I was utterly exhausted. I hadn't had class until 11:45 that morning, so I had forced myself to take a decent lie-in, knowing I'd be working that night and the next day. I wouldn't be getting out of there until 1:30 a.m. at the absolute earliest, so I was trying to be sensible. But those extra hours of sleep hadn’t helped one bit. Maybe the vodka would.

I downed the shot as I started pulling pints for the next round of lads at my till. It was so busy that night that Mia had barely found time to throw any teasing remarks my way, which meant, yes, that night was pure, distilled hell.

I hastily checked the clock on the till as I charged for the pints: just two more hours. Then we would close, and all those drunk arseholes would either head over to Amor or collapse into the gutters. Either way, they wouldn't be standing in front of me anymore. Thank fuck for that.

I took the next shot Mia handed me without even thinking about it. This was my third in the last hour. I had a genuine feeling I might not make it out of there before my shift started again the next day. At least I was chugging water, too, because I didn't actually want to be paralytic that night. Just numb.

Oh yes, the vodka helped. It helped to muffle the ache from constantly leaning over the bar, feeling the edge dig into my front every time. It helped to keep my face neutral instead of snarling at every drunk guy or gal who stared at my tits. I was not in the mood that night.

A cute blonde bouncing up to the bar caught my eye, and I grinned as I tapped my code into the till.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Oh my gods, hi!” Holly beamed, leaning eagerly forward on the sticky surface.

“Sweetheart, far too many drinks have been spilled on that tonight. Don’t ruin your top.” I gently eased her elbows off the bar top. She chuckled, moving her arms back obediently. I smiled at her. “What can I get you?”

“Pink gin and lemonade!” she positively beamed.

Of course that was her drink. I chuckled and set to work, pouring her a double because why not. I tossed in a handful of dark raspberries, slapped a sprig of fresh mint to release the aroma, and crowned it with a pink paper umbrella and a berry on the rim just to be extra. I passed it over, then unceremoniously kicked Mia’s shin.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Mia spun around, clutching a scoop of ice.

I dramatically bowed towards Holly, who was happily sipping her gin. “Mia, this is Holly.”

Mia looked at Holly, connected the university dots, and her expression shifted. “Hey!” Mia quickly finished the drinks she was making, charged the woman in front of her, and then gave Holly a quick once-over. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mia.”

Holly smiled sweetly. "Nice to meet you too! Wow,” she stared wide-eyed at Mia. “Alex was right, you are a goddess.”

Mia smiled wide, shooting me a knowing grin. She looked back at Holly. “Well, thank you, sweetie.”

Holly blushed fiercely and sipped her gin, looking back at me. It didn’t take a genius to realise this was not her first drink of the night; I hadn’t yet seen her this genuinely giddy. She looked down at her glass and gasped. “Oh shit, I haven’t paid.” She fumbled with her phone.

“Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Go have fun.” I turned to the next customer. Holly hesitated, then squeaked happily and toddled off toward a group of women near the booths.

Mia hip-bumped me. “Well, she’s adorable.”

“I know, right? Too precious for this world,” I laughed as I poured the wine that was ordered—the cheap, nasty shit.

A sharp CRASH behind me made me wince, and I shared an instant, knowing look with Mia.

The bar wasn't very long, but that night there were five of us serving at every till: me, Mia, Ben, and two other newbies who I currently wanted to strangle. Mia’s eyes flickered toward the shattered glass on the floor, but she decisively didn't intervene. She was the supervisor and technically in charge of those idiots, but we both silently agreed to let the fumbling fresher attempt to scoop up the broken glass with a dustpan and brush. If they didn't learn how to handle those rushes then, they were never going to survive that job.