They’re all big guys, and they’re all thirsty. I need to take some orders. Quickly, I finish up what I’m doing in the back end and head to their table.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for stopping in and my apologies for the wait,” I greet. “Can I get you a round of beers or some shots?”
They start discussing drink options when someone says my name.
“Oh, hey Paul. Nice to see you, man.”
I look up and recognize one of the guys at the table. He was here the other night. Apparently, he enjoyed the vibe like I was hoping he would.
“Glad you stopped in, Liam,” I reply with a smile, quickly walking over for a handshake and fist bump. “I guess you decided this was a decent place to hang out.”
“I did. Enjoyed myself the other night. Thought I’d come back. Maybe try out sitting at a table with people instead of the bar by myself.”
“Whatever makes you comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Have you met my teammates yet?”
“First time I’ve seen most of the guys here.”
“Sure, sure. Since we’ll be hanging out, let me introduce you to them.”
He takes me around the table and I swear he introduces me to half the Slingers hockey team. When I’ve shaken hands and taken orders Liam pats me on the back. “I hope it’s okay I brought so many people. I didn’t realize you’d be on your own tonight.”
The comment has me wondering where Kiersten is again. “I won’t be for long. Seriously, the more the merrier. And listen, we don’t have too many regulars but if anyone starts to harass you, just point out my new sign.”
Liam cocks his head and furrows his brow. “What’s Kinnearing?”
“You don’t know either? Dammit. Kiersten swore up and down everyone would know it means taking pictures of people without their permission.”
“Huh.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s a chick thing.”
“Well, considering Dwayne is the only non-athlete here tonight, and he doesn’t even have a flip phone let alone Twitter, hopefully the sign is good enough. If for some reason it’s not, you know where to find me.”
Liam snickers. “I don’t think we have to worry about Dwayne unless I try to take him on at pool again. He hustled me out of fifty bucks last time.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s all on you, man. Any guy who spends this much time in a bar is a shark of some sort.”
“Lesson learned.”
“Anyway, let me get your drinks. No reason to keep y’all waiting anymore.”
By this time, everyone’s finally decided what they want, and taking orders is quick. Mostly it’s buckets of ice-cold beer, keep ‘em coming, which is easy for everyone. I go behind the bar to make drinks and that’s when Kiersten rushes in, Carson in her arms.
“I’m sorry, Paul. I’m so sorry.” She looks and sounds frazzled. “I totally forgot Lauren and Heath were going out of town so I don’t have a babysitter. But don’t worry, I got ahold of Jaxon and he’s on his way to pick up Carson. It’s just going to take about twenty minutes for him to get here…”
I hold my hands up. “Whoa, whoa, slow down.” She stops talking. “Take a breath.” She does. “It’s okay. We only have the one big table and they’re super cool. Plus, you’re a good employee. I know this wasn’t you being irresponsible. It’s just a glitch. No biggie.”
A weird expression crosses her face. “Really?”
“Yes really. Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t tell if I’m yanking your chain.”
“Because most people say things like, ‘These are the consequences of your actions, Kiersten,’ or ‘If you couldn’t afford him, you shouldn’t have had him, Kiersten.’ I don’t usually get a break.”
Hearing her words shocks me. From what I’ve observed, Kiersten is responsible and tough. She’s not a quitter. But she also has a soft look to her whenever she smiles at her son. How people outside her friend group aren’t clamoring to help her out is beyond me.
“Maybe I’m not most people.”
She bites her lip as relief crosses her face. “No, you’re not.” She says it quietly, like she’s saying more than the words mean. “And thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But let me get him settled real quick and I’ll head to the back to grab some more supplies. Your stock of napkins is running low.”
He glances to the shelf behind him. “Huh. I didn’t even notice that.”
She looks back at the guys who are already laughing and cutting up. “Seems like you’ve had your hands full. I’ll go get more in just a second.”
Hauling Carson and a bag full of stuff to the side, she pulls out a tiny little portable chair and sets it in a quiet corner where we can see him, but he’s not behind the bar. Then she hands him a tablet. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
The squeal and kick of his legs indicate he’s more than excited to have the device and I have no doubt he’ll be fine until Jaxon gets here.
I come around the bar and she helps me set some buckets on the tables that have been pushed together for everyone to fit. Once we’re satisfied they’re all set, I think about those napkins again.
“Why don’t you go set your stuff down in the back and grab those napkins.”
She looks at Carson nervously.
“I’ll watch him while you grab the stuff,” I promise. “All I’m doing is slinging beers so I’m facing him the whole time.”
She nods and gives me that smile I like so much. “Thanks,” she says and puts her hand on my arm. A jolt of electricity buzzes through me and I know what that is. Attraction. Attraction I shouldn’t have but why wouldn’t I? Kiersten is the whole package and she’s getting harder to resist every day. “I’ll be right back.” Turning to her son she calls, “Don’t move, Carson.”
He ignores her, engrossed in whatever he’s watching.
Getting back to work, I busy myself finishing up some specialty drinks. It only takes a couple of minutes so as soon as they’re delivered, I look up and realize Carson is gone.
My heart beating wildly, I look around frantically, praying he didn’t accidentally walk out the front door. I would have heard that, right? The door opening? And how did a three-year-old go missing in a matter of seconds? And how did I accomplish that the one and only time Kiersten needed me for something?
All these thoughts run through my brain as I scan the room before finding him just feet from where he started—by the table full of men, staring at one of the players.
Rushing over, mostly to calm my own nerves and not because anything is wrong, I squat down in front of him. “Whatcha doing, little man?”
At that moment, Liam turns from his conversation and sees the little boy. His face lights up. “Hey there. Who are you?”
Carson scowls. “You no Unca Heat.”
Liam looks over at me, brows furrowed. “Uhh, can you translate that for me? I don’t speak toddler.”
“Say that again Carson?”