Dolce
part of a Beaten Track Valentine’s Day collection
Jack wiped the surface of the bar, drying the condensation left by the last customer’s glass. The guy had tipped, despite the fact that Grand Slam had a policy of paying employees proper wages and not forcing them to rely on patrons’ good manners. Like most everyone there tonight, the man had accepted another person’s flirting and an offer to dance—even if the music was dreadful.
Valentine’s Day, a perfect time to be home having a nice, comfortable mope and either doing work or gaming. Not a night to be working at Grand Slam. Except, of course, that this was a busy evening, and Denver—the manager—needed all hands on deck.
Jack had cut his hours a bit after landing a job with a firm that handled hazardous waste. He was biding his time, getting some field experience before applying to law school. Judging by the way most people eyed his beard, his ear gauges and the beer tattoo on his forearm, they likely wouldn’t guess he’d studied environmental engineering and had graduated cum laude the previous spring.
He watched the crowd, spotting a few regulars: the big, blond guy, his equally blond, frizzy-haired girlfriend, and his slightly nerdy black boyfriend; the deaf dancer, currently watching his man on stage, drumming with the awful band. Missing were the ex-drag queen and that guy who sang opera at last year’s charity event. They’d just gotten married on Sunday, so it made sense they weren’t around.
A lot of them had met in this very bar. Jack couldn’t exactly take credit for getting them together, even if he had listened to their romantic woes over the last couple years. He supposed that was another assumption people made about him, that his full-time job in the bar was to matchmake for the clientele.
That was hardly it. He wasn’t responsible for the love lives of the folks who came in here. What he was responsible for was keeping the bar clean and knowing everyone’s orders. Quietly stashing condoms in discreet locations, even though they technically didn’t have a back room here. Calming everyone’s tempers when Denver and her partners—the co-owners—were arguing over some petty detail. Serving his alcoholic friend water when he came in an emotional wreck, because the guy had made it clear Jack wasn’t to give him anything no matter how much he begged.
And maybe, just maybe, lending a shoulder when he knew someone needed it.
Denver appeared at his side, and he realized he’d been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed her approaching. He put the hand towel away and faced her.
“Thanks for coming in. I know it’s nuts in here tonight.” She cringed. “And the band. Good lord. I mean, they’re better than they were, but next time I’m scheduling the entertainment for a busy night, remind me not to hire them for the early slot. Everyone needs a lot more booze to enjoy this crap.”
Jack chuckled. “I like their original stuff these days. They’re only bad now when they’re doing covers of other bands. They tried, I guess? But that version of ‘Take a Chance on Me’…”
“What the hell was that, anyway? The Creepy Crullers are hard rock.” Denver shook her head. “Come to think of it, I’ve never really been a fan of ABBA anyway, so maybe that was an improvement.”
“I love ABBA!” Jack grinned at Denver’s incredulous expression. “Nope, that was definitely not better.”
“Well, whatever. You wanna take a break? Looks like it’s a little slower for now.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jack untied his apron and hung it up before sliding out from behind the bar.
He thought about going outside, getting some fresh air. But it was cold, and he’d have to get his jacket. That would waste precious minutes. Instead, he stood at the edge of the crowd and people-watched. Tonight seemed to be mostly regulars. The group of friends with the blond guy appeared to have expanded. He saw a number of others he recognized too.
The band had switched to something slower, and it was surprisingly good. Jack suspected their lead singer had written this one. He sighed, wishing someone would ask him to dance. Three minutes gone, twelve more until he had to get back to work. He figured if everyone was just going to pair off, he might as well go back early.
Denver eyed him suspiciously, but she said nothing when he put his apron back on. It was busier again, so he had plenty to do for the time being. He made his way down the line, drawing on his innate cheerfulness to cover the longing in his heart.
He reached the last person, and his heart nearly stopped. Someone was approaching the bar, heading for the only empty seat. They had flawless light brown skin and dark hair pulled into a high, messy bun. They had on a short black skirt with suspenders, a white blouse, and a fabulous pair of high socks with kitten faces at the top. Once they were close enough, Jack had a better look at their face. Heart-shaped, with a cute button nose and full, glossy lips. Their irises were so dark the color almost swallowed their pupils. Jack rarely noticed or cared about makeup, but theirs was striking, colorful but not heavy.
He knew he had to be flushing tomato red, but the person didn’t seem to notice. They only smiled as they hopped up onto the seat and folded their hands on top of the bar.
Jack pulled it together enough to ask, “What can I get you?”
“Hm,” they replied. “What do you suggest? I’m in the mood for something…sweet.” They gave a cheeky twitch of their eyebrows.
Flushing even deeper, Jack wanted to say, You seem plenty sweet already. Instead, he said, “Our special tonight is lollipop martinis. Would you like one?”
“Ooh, yes, please. That sounds yummy.” They flashed a dimpled grin.
“Apple, watermelon, or berry blue?”
“Which one is your favorite?”
The apple was a little on the tart side, the berry on the overly sweet side, and the watermelon nicely in the middle. He studied the person in front of him, wondering which part of the spectrum they fell into. He supposed that someone asking for a drink that tasted like—and included—candy probably wanted the most sweet, though he personally preferred the watermelon.
He told them so. “I like the watermelon best, but for you, I’d suggest the berry blue.”
“Okay.” Another charming smile.
Jack mixed the lemonade, berry blue liqueur, and bubble gum vodka. He stuck a berry blue Dum Dum lollipop in it as a garnish and set it in front of the customer, waiting for their reaction.
They sipped. “Mm. Perfect! Thank you.”
“Any time.”
Jack watched them go, their short skirt swishing as they walked. They turned back and gave him a tiny wave, and he swooned a little right where he stood.
“You never did finish your break,” Denver murmured in his ear, nearly giving him a heart attack.
After he recovered, he glanced at her and then back out at the person who had just left the bar. They were settling themselves at one of the high tables near the back. Alone.
“But—” he started to protest.
“The rules are pretty relaxed here, and I saw them flirting with you. If it bothers you to do it while you’re on the clock, tell them your shift’s over in an hour.”
“I—”
“Jack.” Denver touched his arm. “Take a chance for once. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
He nodded and once again left his apron behind the bar. He stepped out and headed for the table at the back, stopping right in front of the person he’d just served. He focused on the bright blue drink.
“Hey,” he said. “How, uh, how is your…that?” He waved at the martini glass.
The person giggled. “Tasty, thanks. But I get the feeling that’s not all you came over here for?” That smile!
“I get off in an hour,” Jack said, then flushed again at their amused expression. “I mean, I’m done working. Will you still be here?”
“Depends. Will the band be any better?”
“It’s a different band by then, so my guess is yes.”
“Good. Then I’ll be here.” They winked, and Jack almost fainted on the spot.
“Awesome. Ummm…I’m Jack, by the way.”
“Quinn.”
“I should get back.” Jack hitched his thumb toward the bar and turned to go. “So…see you in an hour?”
“Count on it.” Quinn’s smile was possibly the brightest thing in the room, outshining even the stage lights. As Jack headed for the bar, he spotted Denver watching. She raised her eyebrows in question, and Jack rolled his eyes but grinned. Denver gave him a thumbs-up. Take a chance, she’d said, and he had. Tonight was a good night after all.
Read the other Notes from Boston books:
Coming soon: Minuet
Read other stories:
After the 80s Party – Bob Stone
Does your mother know – A. Zukowski
Hustle and Hart
I’ve Been Waiting for You – Dawn Sister
Nina, Pretty Ballerina – Debbie McGowan
The Visitors – Neptune Flowers
Also available as a free ebook from Smashwords.
