“Hi. What can I get you tonight?”
“Oh. Um. Could I get a glass of Chardonnay?”
“You sure can. I love your earrings.”
“Oh.” Tandy put one hand up to her left ear. “Thanks.”
“They’re really pretty,” Dave added. “You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.” She laughed as Morgan poured the wine. “You really just don’t know, do you? I was so nervous, I walked around the block. That’s why I’m a little late.”
“I was so nervous I got here twenty minutes early.”
Ice broken, Morgan thought as she served the wine.
And this, she admitted, was one of the reasons she loved working in a bar. You never knew what might start, might finish, might bloom or break in a friendly neighborhood bar.
By the time Roddy and his brothers plowed through their burgers, the place started filling up. The Match.com couple decided to get a table after all, and a platter of nachos.
Morgan made a mental bet on a second date there.
Vodka Tonic cashed out, left a miserly tip.
Darts thwacked against the board to cheers and catcalls of onlookers.
A man in his early thirties came in. He made her think of an incognito movie star with his dark blond hair, chiseled features, gym-fit body in jeans, boots, and a pale blue sweater—looked like cashmere. He slid onto a stool.
She stepped down to him. “Welcome to the Next Round. What’s your pleasure?”
“I’ve got a lot of them.” He grinned at her—easy, charming. “But we’ll start with a beer. Any local beer on tap?”
“Of course.” Though they had lists printed in holders on the bar, she reeled them off.
“Maybe you can pick one for me.”
“What’re you looking for?”
“Another loaded question.”
She shot him a smile. Looking for some conversation, she judged, along with the drink. And that was fine.
“In a beer.”
“Smooth, but not bland. Rich, but not overpowering. Toward the dark side.”
“Let’s try this.” She got a tasting glass, pulled a tap.
As he sampled it, he watched her over the rim. “That’ll do. Good choice.”
“That’s my job.”
Before he could speak again, one of the waitresses came up. “Girl table over there’s stuck in the nineties. Four Cosmos, Morgan.”
She carried the tray of empties into the kitchen while Morgan got to work.
“You know what you’re doing,” the new guy commented as she mixed the drinks.
“I’d better. Are you in town on business?”
“Don’t I look like I belong?”
Close enough, she thought. His clothes said upscale, but not in-your-face. “Haven’t seen you in here before.”
A cheer erupted across the room.
“Dart tourney,” she said.
“So I see. Serious?”
“Oh, in its way. Can I get you anything else? Would you like to see a menu?”
“Is the food any good?”
“It is.” She pulled out a menu, laid it beside him. “Have a look, take your time.”
With the Cosmos ready, she moved down the bar. Took orders, filled orders, chatting with regulars as she did. She worked her way back.
“I’ll try a Market Street Burger, unless you tell me I’m making a mistake.”
“It’s a classic for a reason. If you like a kick, a little heat, go with the spicy fries.”
He lifted his hands. “You’ve never steered me wrong.”
She laughed, plugged his order in the machine.
Roddy, all six-four and two hundred fifty pounds, walked over to the bar. “Another round, sweets. How’s it going?” he said idly to Handsome Guy while Morgan filled the order.
“Cold beer, beautiful bartender, live sports. It’s a good deal.”
“Yeah, it is. I took the lead in the semis. Give me some luck for the finals, Morgan.”
She leaned over, touched her lips to his. “Go get ’em.”
“Damn right.” He took the beers and walked off.
“Boyfriend?”
She looked over at her customer. “Oh, no. Roddy and his brothers—the dart players—are regulars. I actually work with his girlfriend at my other job.”
“Two jobs? Ambitious. What’s the other?”
“Office manager for a construction company. What do you do?”
“I’d like to say as I please, because at least I try. I’m in IT. I’m in the area for a couple of months doing some consulting.”