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"Due to a miscalculation by yours truly, we're understaffed. However, my good friend Claire has agreed to help me out tonight. If those of you who just want a beer or pre-mixed bottles from the fridge can make a line over there, Claire will serve you."
People start to shuffle over to my side automatically, probably hoping I'll be able to serve them quicker than the other three.
Next, Dylan points to the gorgeous blonde woman who dropped the glass earlier. "This is Ally. She's new, and she's also the first woman we've had back here for a while, so be nice to her for us, please. We're not ready to let her go yet."
There is an outpouring of laughter from the crowd, and I can see the customers waiting in line start to relax a little.
"Ally is going to pour your wine and shots," Dylan continued.
Without him needing to ask, people begin lining up in front of Ally.
"For those of you haven't been here before," Dylan continues, "That's Mike, and I'm D.J. We'll serve you anything you want."
His tone is so flirtatious it makes my stomach flip, and it must have a similar effect on the other women in the room because a lot of wolf-whistling follows.
The megaphone squeaks as he switches it off.
"Claire," Dylan calls.
I walk over and see the laminated list he holds in his hand. "This is the price of everything in the fridge. Prices for beer on tap are listed up there." He points to the blackboard behind me. "I'd better show you how to work the till."
My head feels as if it's reeling as he goes through one thing after another, ending with how to pour a beer without too much head. His words, not mine.
"Ready?" he asks finally.
"Sure," I say, trying not to sound as nervous as I am.
"You'll be fine," he tells me before looking over my outfit again and muttering something I don't catch.
And that is that. My brief tutorial now over, Dylan walks away and starts serving people at break-neck speed, leaving me to break out into a slight sweat as I eye the long line of customers impatiently waiting for pre-mixed drinks.
After the first few customers, I start to find a rhythm and gain some confidence. It takes me a little while to get the hang of juggling orders, serving, and working the till, but I manage with a little help here and there from Dylan and Mike. I worked as a cashier through high school, but it's been quite some time since I worked in the customer service industry, and I can't remember ever having to wait on such a demanding crowd.
After what feels like five minutes, but must have been longer, things begin to settle down. As the crowd around the bar thins out, the satisfaction I feel is similar to what I experience when I manage to save someone bank fees, but it's different, too, because this time it was a team effort. As Dylan, Mike, and Ally now have everything under control, I'm technically not neededback here anymore, but I'm not ready to go back to the side of the paying customers just yet.
With everyone in the place relaxing, drinking, and having a good time, more laughs are had by the bartenders. Dylan and Mike put on a show for the crowd. They throw a few bottles back and forth between them in a way they've obviously rehearsed before. It is all veryCocktail, but the crowd eats it up anyway. I'm so busy enjoying myself that I don't immediately register the familiar face at the front of my queue.
"Claire? Claire Chase?"
"Gary. Hi."
Gary is number five on my list of failures over the past few years. He works at a rival banking chain, but when he asked me out, I agreed since he seemed perfect for me at the time. Just like with Evan, we never really got past the dating phase. After a couple of months, things came to a screeching halt. Now I can't even remember why we broke up, just that it was mutual and we both used our hectic work schedules as an excuse.
"You look...amazing," he says.
The admiration in his grey eyes leaves me with no doubt he means it. Disturbingly, I don't think he looked at me like this once during the months we dated.
"Thank you."
He grins. "I couldn't believe it was you at first. The Claire I knew wouldn't be caught dead doing anything other than crunching numbers to get her customers the best deal."
I try to shrug off the comment, but I can't deny it stings a little. Yes, I love working at the bank, but he makes it sound like that is my only interest.
"Oh, well, I'm, ah, just helping out a..." I trail off as I look over to where Dylan is standing.
Ally is beside him, laughing at something he says while bumping his hip with hers and grabbing his bicep. My stomachtightens, and something sharp slices through my chest as I watch the two of them together.
It's not the first time I've seen Dylan flirting with someone and felt the sharp edge of jealousy rip through me. However, I'm usually so busy trying to convince myself I hate Dylan that it doesn't affect me quite as much as it does now.
