“I know some of it just from serving.”
“You’ll pick up the rest. If you have a question, ask.”
“I have one. How did you know they’d sit at the bar?”
“They were in last night and told me they liked to sit at the bar because you can meet interesting people.”
They filled table orders, with Morgan talking Bailey through the process.
A quick study, Morgan thought again, and had to stop herself from her ingrained habit of backbarring as she went.
She caught a glimpse of Liam in the archway with a woman who had about a yard of red hair and what looked like barely a yard of black dress.
And heard Bailey’s mumbled, “Shit.”
She glanced over. “Problem?”
“No. I—I know her, the one coming in with Liam Jameson. We went to high school together.”
“Let me guess. Mean girl.”
“Oh God, so much mean in that girl. At least I know I won’t be working her table.”
“Calm,” Morgan reminded her. “They’ll come to the bar first, give me an order, then move to a table. That’s Liam’s way.”
They did just that.
“Hey, Morgan, how’s it going?”
“Moving right along. It’ll probably start moving faster soon. The party upstairs should be breaking up. What can we get you?”
“What’ll you have, Jessica?”
“A very dry martini, Hanger One and Carpano Bianco, three olives. I prefer picholine olives.”
Automatically, Morgan chilled a martini glass.
“Sounds too sophisticated for me,” Liam decided. “I’ll stick with the usual.”
“We’ll have these sent to your table. Inside or out tonight?”
Before he could speak, Jessica let out a little laugh. “Bailey? Bailey Myerson? I almost didn’t recognize you with what you’ve done to your hair. You’re bartending now?”
“Hello, Jessica. It’s been awhile.”
“It really has. Bailey and I went to high school together.” As she looked up at Liam, Jessica slid her arm through his. “So you moved back to Westridge?”
“For the summer.”
“I’m just visiting for the week. I live in New York now. We really should catch up, shouldn’t we, when you’re not working. We should get that table, Liam, and let them get back to work.”
“Sure. See you later.”
“We’re going to make her a perfect martini,” Morgan began, “even though we don’t like her.”
While she had Bailey draw Liam’s draft, she demonstrated.
“I’ll take the drinks out.” Bailey lifted the tray. “High school’s over, and I’m a big girl now.”
Within the hour, things started to pick up, as predicted. Opal sent word she needed Bailey back on the floor in fifteen.
“I learned so much already. Thanks, Morgan.”
“Anytime. I mean it.”
Liam slid, solo, onto a stool.
“Another round?”
“No, just a Coke. I’m heading home soon.”
“And your date?”
“Not a date, just a drink. By the way, Bailey, I like your hair.”
“Oh.” Flustered, she brushed at it. “Thanks. I’ve got to get back to my station.”
“Take your break first. You’ve still got ten coming.”
“She’s not working the bar?” Liam asked when Bailey hurried off.
“Training. Bailey’s a summer hire, in grad school. You didn’t go to high school with her?”
“We went to Lincoln—different districts. One of my friends dated Jessica back then for a while, so I knew her a little. We ran into each other in town earlier today.” He lifted his Coke, rolled his eyes. “Some people just don’t change. I like cats, but not the two-legged ones.”
Now he winced. “That was probably really sexist.”
“In this case, you get a pass. How’d she like her drink?”
“She said it was fine, the way you say ‘fine’ when you’re tolerating something substandard. Before, when Bailey brought the drinks out, she needled her. You know?” With his thumb and forefinger together, he twisted them sharply. “And Bailey just smiled and said, like, it was so interesting to come home for the summer and run into someone from high school who hadn’t changed a bit. All smiles, but it wasn’t a compliment.”
“Good for her. Awkward for you.”
“Kind of fascinating really.”