Page 50 of Another Last Call
Hannah was young. She’d just turned nineteen a few months before. She was sweet, cute as anything, butyoung. Maggie had my heart, whether or not I wanted to admit it, but I wasn’t blind to Hannah’s looks.
I mean, not in a way that I was attracted to her. But I could state that she was objectively pretty. The tips she earned didn’t lie about that. With her girl-next-door sort of look and soft but high-pitched voice, she was endearing in a way that I almost wanted to protect.
She was a kid. Big Tim might’ve called me a kid a million times, but she wasnineteen. And I was a lot closer to thirty than I was to nineteen. Not to mention her boss. She was off-limits, even if Ihadbeen interested in her.
And I wasn’t.
So her asking me if I liked working with my hands had to be an innocent question. I laughed softly and shrugged.
“I mean, I guess,” I said. “I enjoy building stuff, if that’s what you mean. But I can’t play the guitar.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, I’m pretty good with my hands, I’ve been told.”
I laughed again and excused myself to help Fred, who had thankfully wandered up to the bar to get a refill of his Marble Beach iced tea.
And I wanted it to be my imagination. I wanted to pretend like Hannah wasn’t inching closer and closer to me as Maggie played her guitar. And that I was just particularly clumsy that night, since she’d bumped into me no less than five times. And maybe I’d put on some weight or something, and that’s why it was so crowded behind the bar that she brushed her hips against my ass whenever she had to sneak past me to get something.
I was definitely, forsureimagining that right after I started making Fred’s drink and another customer asked for a rum and coke, Hannah purposely leaned across me to grab ice from the bin and pressed her perky tits against my arm.
Just like when we finished serving our respective customers and leaned against the cabinets to listen to Maggie play again, I had to be imagining that Hannah’s shirt was coming undone.
Maggie and I hadn’t set a strict uniform policy. We’d agreed on jeans and no T-shirts, but any other top was fine. Everyone had a name tag, and the front of house staff all wore half aprons while the kitchen staff had full white aprons. That night, Hannah was wearing jeans—incredibly tight jeans, though I was probably imagining that—and a plaid button-down shirt. I was sure at the beginning of the night, the buttons were all done up. But as I glanced sidelong at her, I realized that at least three were undone.
She seemed to have a tank top underneath, or at least something lacy that was peeking out where the shirt was still buttoned together. More importantly, those perky tits I’d felt brush against my arm were on display.
Like,proudlyon display.
I didn’t imagine the wave of disgust that washed over me as soon as I had the thought. Swallowing hard, I looked determinedly back at Maggie, refusing to think about the soft skin and deep cleavage that was being shown off beside me.
She had done it for the tips, I reasoned, running a nervous hand through my hair. Friday night, lots of customers. Everyone loves a hot bartender. I wasn’t going to blame her for doing what she could to earn more money.
“Is something wrong, Caleb?” Hannah asked in her soft, breathy voice.
“Nope,” I said. “Just gonna… I gotta go check the kitchen quick.”
Then I high-tailed it out of there.
Twenty-Six
Caleb
Fortherestofthe night, I avoided Hannah however I could. It was easy enough to leave her on the bar by herself and pitch in elsewhere, so that’s what I did. After we closed, I stepped into the office and started processing the deposit for the night while Maggie cleaned up the front of house.
I thought I was home free, but a gentle tap on the door as I was counting proved I wasn’t.
“Caleb?” she asked, standing in the open doorway.
“Hi, Hannah,” I said. “Did Mags tell you to head out? If not, you can head home. We’re good from here.”
“She did, I just wanted to ask you something first.” She moved into the office and closed the door behind her.
Shit, I thought. “What’s up?”
She stepped forward slowly, making her way to the side of the desk. “Well, I just thought maybe we should talk about you looking down my shirt earlier.”
My mouth went dry. “I didn’t intentionally—”
“I’m not stupid,” she said. “I know you did. And maybe… maybe it’s because I kind of wanted you to.”
