The elderly woman smiled, pulling her crocheted shawl higher onto her shoulders. “I just wanted another glass of that lovely white wine you served us earlier, dear.”
Stevie nodded, already reaching into the small fridge for the bottle of wine. “Of course. I’ll bring it to your table.”
The elderly woman beamed. “Oh, thank you!” She turned her smile on Janus. “I sincerely apologize young man,” she said, laying a hand on Janus’ upper arm. Then her eyes narrowed. “You look vaguely familiar. Do I know you?”
Stevie smothered a smile. This seemed to happen a lot. Janus must have that look about him because many of the customers had asked that question over the past few weeks.
Immediately, Janus turned on the charm. Taking Jeanine’s hand in his, he lifted it to his lips, gently kissing her bony knuckles. “Oh, if I’d ever met a lovely lady like yourself, I don’t think I would have let you out of my sight!”
Jeanine laughed, playfully swatting him. “Oh, goodness! You’re good, young man!” she replied back. “Stevie, I’ll take the wine with me. You stay here and continue enjoying this handsome man!”
And then she was gone, glass of wine in hand as she made her way back to her table.
They watched her leave before Janus turned to Stevie. “Nice lady.”
Stevie stayed behind the bar, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Yeah, she’s one of my regulars. She and her husband come in every Friday night. They have a glass of wine here at the bar, then move into the restaurant for dinner. She orders the salmon. He gets the steak. They generally leave by nine o’clock.” Stevie glanced down at her watch. “Since its nine-thirty, they must be celebrating something special.”
His dark eyebrows lifted with her explanation. “Do you know the names of all of your customers?”
Stevie laughed and grabbed the whiskey, pouring it into a crystal glass and setting it down in front of him, knowing that he preferred the good stuff. “I know the regulars.”
He took a sip of his whiskey. “Their names as well as their preferred drinks, right?’
Stevie shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Maybe it was the look of admiration in those silver eyes. “Well, it isn’t hard. It’s not like I have a huge crowd of customers every night. And this isn’t really a place that the tourists would easily discover. So, the ones that show up every weekend are easy to remember.”
“That’s good customer service,” he said. “I bought another restaurant the other day.”
Stevie’s mouth fell open. “That’s the second place you’ve bought in the few weeks that I’ve known you, Janus.”
He shrugged one of those amazing shoulders. “This one was a mess,” he explained. “Awful customer service and the food was barely edible. I love taking over a place and turning it around,” he continued, smiling. “The worse that the food and service are, the bigger the challenge.”
“What’s the name of your latest acquisition? What’s it like?” she asked, bracing her arms wide on the bar top.
“It’s a place called Jimmy Joe’s over on Ninth Street.”
Stevie knew the place. She’d heard that several people had gotten sick after eating there. “By the stadium?” she asked, noticing a pattern. “Isn’t your other bar over by the stadium as well?”
He nodded. “It’s all about location. The restaurants are also located close to several businesses. So, they get a good deal of traffic during the week. Plus they’re convenient to the stadium, so they get slammed after any kind of game or concert.”
“I’m not denying it makes good business sense,” she replied, smiling. “But I guess you have ‘a type’. Or maybe you just like the huge crowds?”
Janus grunted, looking down at his drink for a moment. “I’m not a fan of crowds. Which is why I come here.” He lifted his glass of scotch in salute. “What were you doing with the toothpicks when I came in, anyway?”
She glanced over at the garbage. “Oh, I was thinking of a new game for my kids,” she said. “A way to teach them to count.”
His head tilted slightly. “Kindergartners don’t know how to count?”
She smiled, feeling special that he remembered that she was a kindergarten teacher during the day. Stevie only tended bar on the weekends for extra money. Teachers didn’t earn much and living in Seattle wasn’t cheap. Most teachers needed to supplement their salaries with a second, sometimes even a third job.
“They are starting to understand counting and math concepts. Some of them know how to count, but others haven’t started yet.”
“And the toothpicks?”
She grinned. “I have a bunch of straws in my classroom. I was thinking one student could make a tower while another student does jumping jacks until the tower gets too tall and tumbles.”
He laughed. “That way two kids are counting. One of them is active and the other…”
“Is working on their fine motor skills.” Her smile turned shy as she basked in his obvious approval. “Well, it’s an idea, anyway. I’ll work on the details tomorrow.”
His glass froze halfway to his lips. “Isn’t tomorrow Saturday?”
She shrugged. “Yes. Why?”
“Don’t you take any time off?”
Stevie chuckled. “The more experienced teachers have their lesson plans for the year all worked out and only need to tweak them slightly, maybe adding new information or adjusting the focus. But I’m a new teacher. I’m only in my third year of teaching. So, I have my lesson plans worked out, but there are details that I need to add still.”
He nodded and took a sip. “Is teaching hard work?”
Stevie nodded emphatically. “Yes. But it’s amazingly rewarding. Especially at this age. The kids are small and haven’t learned to hate school yet. Plus, we get to do fun stuff mixed into the learning and that makes a huge difference. Seeing a small child light up when they learn something new, or accomplish a task is…it’s amazing,” she whispered, her hand over her heart as she thought about the small faces she’d been teaching only a few hours earlier today. “Some of the kids even miss me over the weekend.”
He laughed and her heart flipped over with the re-emergence of that dimple. She doubted many people got to see that dimple, so it was extra special when it came out.
“That sounds wonderful.” He took another sip of his whiskey. “Do you want kids of your own?”
“Oh sure!” she replied, picking up a clean cloth and polishing glasses that were already perfectly shined. She needed something to do with her hands. Better to clean glasses than to reach out and run her finger down his cheek. Or touch that bump on his nose where the bruise was barely visible just under the skin. “I want lots of kids. The more the merrier!” She chuckled and put the glass down, picking up another. “That’s what I say now, at least. I don’t know how I’ll feel after I have a few. The number might go down once I know how hard it is to raise my own children.”
“Teaching is easier than parenting?” he clarified.
“Absolutely!” she picked up another glass. “Parenting is twenty-four seven. There’s no down time. Even when sleeping, I’m assuming that parents worry about their kids.”