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“Not a problem.”
I force my self to look back at the game, and not watch him walk away.
CHAPTERTHREE
Jake
I leaveSophia to her drink and work with a couple other patrons, some closing out, others just starting their night. Regardless of how busy it is, my mind keeps circling back to her at the end of the bar.
When she and one of her six friends came back in, I was shocked. I truly expected to see the entire group of them coming back after seeing the first two, but it was quickly apparent the other five weren’t joining.
Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s nearing eight. Thirty minutes ago, I was hoping Conor would come in sooner than later, but now that Sophia has come back, I’m okay with him taking more time. Not that I’m the guy to hit on a patron, but there’s something about her demeanor that continues to snag my attention. Earlier, she was quiet but seemed happy. Now, her quietness has an edge of sadness to it.
She’s currently sitting alone with her drink hardly touched, her eyes locked on the television. Looking further over my shoulder, I see that Enforcers are still up, but only by one.
The couple who was sitting next to her gets up and leaves, so I take the excuse to move back to that end of the bar and start up a conversation. Clearing the glasses, I point to hers. “Not good?”
Glancing from the glass to me, she shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s actually really good. I’m just...somewhere else tonight, I guess,” she adds with a small smile, tapping her temple with just her middle finger.
“Can I get you something else?”
“No. Really.” Her smile widens. “This is great. Thank you.”
I finish up and then push into the back to drop off food plates in the industrial sink, running into Saint coming back from his thirty-minute break. “You’re still here?” he asks, hanging his zipper-hoodie up on a row of hooks. “I thought Conor was coming in.”
“He said it could be eight before he got here, but it could be nine that he finally rolls in and I’d be okay. I’m not here tomorrow.”
We both walk back into the busy pub and he chuckles beside me. “It’s because Bachelorette Number Seven came back,” he observes.
“It was a birthday party,” I remind him.
“Yet he doesn’t deny the statement.”
“She looks fucking sad, doesn’t she?”
Sophia’s watching the game again, and doesn’t seem to notice that we’re both looking in her direction.
“She’s drinking wrong, then,” he laughs. Then, he steps away and toward the digital jukebox. As the Dua Lipa song comes to a close, the dance-pop morphs into an upbeat country song.
“Ey? Ey?!” Saint says, pointing upward to a speaker as he comes back. The words start to come through, and I recognize it as the newDrinkin’ It Wrongby Adam Doleac.
I can’t help but grin, while saying, “It’s a good song, but she’s pretty caught up in the game.”
One of my other patrons raises a finger, so we split up, Saint for the floor and me for the man. I get him another beer and when he’s settled, I move back to Sophia.
“Seriously, I can get you something else,” I tell her, reaching for her mostly untouched drink. “I mean, I know we have a fun atmosphere, but if you’re trying to get your mind off something, not touching your drink isn’t the way to go about that.”
For the first time since meeting her, she smiles a full smile at me. I thought she was pretty before, but now I’m struck by how very attractive I find her. “I was just listening to the lyrics of the song that’s playing. It’s pretty fun. But no. Honestly. This is fine.” She pulls the glass back toward her before lifting it up to her plush pink lips, holding the straw back with her index finger and drinking straight from the glass. Swallowing, she nods as she puts it down. “This is actually really good vodka. I like it. You said it was Effen Blood Orange?”
Needing something to do with my hands, I pull the bar towel from where it hangs out of my back pocket and dry off a spot on the bar beside her. “It is.”
“It’s fitting for my night. The ‘effen’ part.” I have a feeling it has something to do with why only she and one friend came back, versus the whole group.
And while bartenders are cheap therapists, I’m not one to pry someone’s bad days out of them. If they want to unload, great. But I won’t force it.
Especially with a woman like Sophia.
Earlier when she was in with the group, I was drawn to her quiet nature. She stood out among her loud friends. Now, that draw is still there, but I’ve had time to take in her beauty, too.
