“Shane,” Clara answers, typing on her computer set up at the bar.
When the news circulated that the Trifecta’s taking over the club and Willie’s retiring, all of the staff were ecstatic they’d be keeping their jobs, all except one. A long time bartender, Gabe quit three days ago, not giving us much time to hire someone else, and tonight we needed to be fully staffed. Clara was able to find someone on short notice who came highly recommended, but wasn’t able to come in until today. I’m nervous hiring someone on recommendation alone, but with the grand opening set for today I’ll take what I can get.
I glance down at my phone. “He’s late.” I hate tardiness, especially from my employees. This club is the future for my brothers, their soon to be wives, and their future children. We worked hard to get where we are, and I’m not going to let some slacker bartender screw it up for us. “Don’t bother letting him in. I need this place to run smoothly, especially on opening night. One of us will get behind the bar if we get behind.”
“You three are going to be too busy talking to people and getting them comfortable with the three of you running this place to get behind the bar. Let him be late, and work tonight. I promise to find someone else tomorrow.”
Before I can respond, a sultry voice, a voice that seems to have been burned into my brain calls out, “I’m here.”
I turn around slowly, my eyes taking in the sight of the thief who stole my jeans. She’s even prettier today than she was last night.
How did she find me?
“I see you’re here to return something you’ve taken from me,” I say, walking over to her.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, not looking the least bit sorry for stealing from me.
“This is my club.”
She smiles, brightly. “I’m your new bartender. Sorry I’m late.”
I laugh. I’ve had women make up crazy stories to get back in my pants, or just in my presence, but to pretend she’s my tardy new bartender is a new one.
She throws me a dirty look that rivals the one I just sent her, before sidestepping me and walking up to Clara. “Hi, I’m Shayne. You must be Clara. Thank you for hiring me on such short notice.”
“Shane’s a boy’s name,” I grit out.
She shrugs. “Talk to my mom,” she counters, still not paying attention to me.
Clara gives Shayne, and apparently not Shane, a tight smile before shaking her hand. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a mistake,” Clara says.
“You’re not our new bartender,” I respond, not sugar coating it like Clara’s trying to.
She whirls around as her green eyes sparkle with a fierceness ready for battle. Too bad Clara’s here, I wouldn’t mind arguing with a lot less clothes on. “And why not?”
“One, we don’t hire females. Women come here to see men not women.” My eyes pin hers. “And secondly...”
She cuts in, “Wow. You’re rude.”
“Well, you’re late,” I finish my sentence.
“By like two minutes. You need to loosen up.”
I square my shoulders, adjusting my button-down shirt. “I can loosen up just fine. If you remember.”
She stares at me, her eyes giving nothing away. “Vaguely.”
My face turns beet red and Clara jumps in. “Maybe we can have you work tonight because we’re down a bartender.”
Shayne glares at me before focusing her attention onto Clara. “I can do this job. Promise. I may not be a guy, but I’m a damn good bartender.”
I cross my arms over my broad chest, ready to kick her out of the club right now. I’m not sure where my frustration comes from. I think the majority of it is I feel used. This woman used me last night and then ran away with my jeans. No apology. Nothing.
“You’re not working here,” I say, breaking in.
“Yes, I am. What’s your favorite drink?” she asks Clara as she moves behind the bar as if she owns the place.
“Lemon drop,” Clara says, going along with Shayne.
Shayne moves around and grabs a shaker. She fills it with ice and dumps in some vodka. Then, I watch as she opens a sugar packet and pours it into the shaker as well. “And now for my secret ingredient.” She winks and spins around, grabbing another bottle of liquor I can’t see. She tosses a few lemons into the tin and shakes like her life depends on it.
She grabs a martini glass and pours the yellow drink, sliding it closer to Clara. In another glass she pours me the top shelf whiskey I had the night before. She nudges the glass in my direction.
I smile, raising a brow. “So, you do remember?”
She smiles, gazing at me behind thick lashes. “Maybe.”
Clara takes a sip of her lemon drop. “This is delicious.” Clara smiles, her blue eyes brightening. “I think we found our bartender.”
I take a sip of my whiskey. “Let’s do this on a probationary basis.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Shayne says, flitting away to check out the bar.
“Mike,” Clara calls out. “Can you take Shayne here and show her the ropes.”
Mike, our head bartender, walks up and introduces himself to Shayne. I can’t help watch a little too closely as Mike leads her off to show her how to start her shift.
I sip on my whiskey as Clara nurses her drink. “I like her.”
“Don’t get used to having her around. Women come to this club to see men, and lots of them.”
Clara shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a female bartender is just what we need.”
I doubt Clara’s right. I don’t know what it is about Shayne but I don’t want her working here. And I know the main reason is because I can’t focus when she’s near. And, I need to focus. I’ve worked way too hard to not have this club work out for us.
Shayne saunters back over after Mike’s shown her the ropes and she’s changed into a Trifecta black tee.
“Are you ready for tonight?” Ben walks in as if he’s a king. Axel and Emma trail in behind him.
Clara slips off the stool to give Ben a kiss.
“Hi again,” Shayne says, wiping down the bar.
“Aren’t you the bartender from last night?” Axel asks. .
“I’m Shayne, the new bartender.”
“Just for tonight,” I interject.
The chatter between my brothers, their fiancees, and Shayne kind of irks me. Clara notices, raising a questioning brow. But, I ignore her, sipping on my whiskey while everyone gets to know Shayne.
I don’t know why they’re bothering.
She won’t be here tomorrow.
“This is a bold move, hiring a female bartender,” Ben says.
“I think it’s perfect. Having a woman behind the bar will make some of the more shy women feel safe,” Axel says.
“I agree.” Axel and Emma smile at each other for their agreement. He kisses the top of her head like the fool in love he is.
“We’ll see. If the women complain about the bartender being a woman she’s out.” My brothers look at me as I grumble out the stipulations.
“Why would they complain?” Axel asks with a quick shrug of his shoulders.
“Because they come here to see men not women.” I really don’t get why this is so hard to understand for everyone.