One

Tiffany:

“Think pretty boy will come in today?”

“Huh?” Leaning against the wooden bar, I looked up from my battered copy of Hamlet. Ophelia was on the brink of going mad, and I was lost to the words of Shakespeare as Hamlet toyed with her emotions. I did love you once…

“Girl, get your head out of the book and keep vigilant.” Iris pulled the book out of my hand, snapping it shut. “You never know when he’ll walk through those doors.”

“I think you’re getting too excited.” I smiled at Iris, pulling the end of my high platinum blonde ponytail over my shoulder so I could wrap the ends around my finger. Iris was my beautiful boss and owner of the bar that I worked at, The Writer’s Den. Long, dark, brown hair hung all the way down her back in pretty waves. She had a fabric headband in her hair and purple feather earrings. Her fingers were adorned with several silver rings, and she had chunky bracelets on her wrists that chimed when she moved. Iris always wore long, layered skirts, making her look like she had stepped out of a different time.

“And I think you’re not excited enough.” Iris tucked my book away by the register then patted down a paper bat on the mirror that was starting to lift up. Halloween was a few days away. The bar didn’t get trick or treaters, but Iris liked to decorate for every holiday.

I stretched my hands over my head and went up on my toes into a natural relevé. It felt good to stretch. I had been reading for at least forty minutes, but it’s not like there were any customers. My gaze glanced up at the clock. It was a quarter after five. And suddenly, I felt that flutter of anticipation. Iris was right. Crap.

Every Friday for the past three weeks, at exactly this time, three guys would come in for happy hour. They were always so engaged in conversation with each other that I never did more than pour drinks for them, and as the hour approached six and more people escaped work, the bar began to fill up and the guys would leave. The first time they had walked in, Iris and I had exchanged a glance, because one of the guys was so… dreamy. He had dark black hair, blue eyes that popped behind his black, square glasses, and full lips that were begging me to kiss them. And when he smiled… oh hot damn. It was all I could do not to pour drinks all over the bar instead of into the glasses. Yup, he was highly distracting.

I had no idea what his name was so I had nicknamed him Captain Jack, because he always ordered the same thing: Jack and Coke—hold the Jack. It was cute, and actually refreshing to have a guy sit in front of me who arrived and left perfectly sober.

“All right. You have homework tonight,” Iris said, pulling me out of my daydream.

“I was trying to do my homework.” I pointed to the book. “You took it away.”

“Watch the movie. Mel Gibson does the part justice. I’m talking about real life lesson homework—the kind of stuff you need to get ahead in life.”

“Oh? Well, then by all means, I anxiously await your assignment.” I brought my hands to the center of my chest in prayer and gave Iris a little bow. I was always teasing her about how she was my real life teacher and college was the thing I did to be socially acceptable.

Iris placed a hand on her hip and raised a brow. “You have to get his name and what he does.”

Mimicking her, I put a hand on my hip and shook my head. “Why don’t you get his name and occupation?”

“Because I’m old enough to be his mother, and you, my dear, are everything he never knew he wanted.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous. He probably has a girlfriend.”

Iris raised one shoulder and offered me a mischievous grin. “Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t. Peter had a girlfriend… but she wasn’t the woman for him.” Peter was Iris’ husband. He passed away a few years ago. Iris was very young to be a widow, early forties, but I knew from the way she spoke of Peter that he was her one true love. “But you’ll never know for sure unless you talk to him.”

“I talk to him every week.” Even as the words came out of my mouth I knew how meek they sounded.

She snorted. “You take his drink order,” she corrected. I rolled my eyes again. “Stop that. I see how you look at him. Take a chance. You’re only young once.”

“I don’t know…” I shrugged and looked down at my feet. “I think if he was interested he would have spoken to me by now.”

Iris shook her head, took me by the arms, and spun me around to face the mirror that lined the wall behind the bar. “Take a good look at yourself, hon. You’re young, beautiful, and have a damn good head on your shoulders. If anything, the boy is intimidated.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Iris had become a second mother to me, the one I always wanted where I could talk about boys and, well… be myself. My mother was great, but my dad bounced when he discovered she was pregnant, and she never married or even dated anyone long enough to introduce them to me. I think men were her enemy.

“You’re doing a lot of prep work for someone who may turn out to be a serial killer.”

Iris tsk’d and waved me away. “He’s not a serial killer. His hands are too clean.”

“You’ve looked at his hands?”

“Yes.” She sighed, a slow, sweet smile curling across her lips. “I’ve looked at every part of him.” I covered my mouth to refrain from laughing. But Iris was lost in her daydream. “They look strong.” She sobered up and looked at me, a twinkle in her eyes. “Do yourself a favor and check them out. You won’t be sorry.”

I giggled. “You need to stop. Besides, he probably won’t even show.” The door chimed, and we both turned our heads in the direction of the entrance, but it was only one of the regular customers. Iris laughed, and went over to get John his Bud Light. I shook my head and reached over to the register for my book when the door chimed again. And this time, the familiar two guys walked in, with Captain Jack behind them. My heart slammed against my chest, and this itchy sensation began to vibrate in my veins. Suddenly, my cheeks were burning hot, and I wanted to hide in the storage closet. Which is normal behavior when you don’t like someone, I told myself.

Iris spun around as she rang up John’s beer. “Tiff, don’t forget about that homework assignment!” She winked, and the blush traveled to my ears. Tugging on the bottom of my black shirt, I took a breath and willed myself to calm down, then stepped toward them as the guys took the three seats in front of me.

“Hey guys, welcome back. What can I get you?” I sounded way too cheery. And I could not look at Captain Jack. Nope. Not gonna happen. Instead, my gaze settled on the ginger with the short cropped hair and pink complexion.

Mystery guy number one looked behind me at the list of draft beers. “I’ll have a Stella.”

“Okay.” I grabbed a frosted glass and started pouring from the tap then turned to mystery guy number two. He had curly blond hair that he seemed to be growing out. It was in that awkward stage. Too short for a pony tail, too long to be considered short.

“Blue Moon, thanks.” I nodded and finished pouring the Stella, plopped down a coaster and placed the beer on top. Ducking down, I grabbed a Blue Moon out of the fridge, opened it, and placed it in front of the blond. Then, taking a breath, I turned to Captain Jack. His eyes were cast down, reading a text book.

“Jack and Coke, hold the Jack?” I asked, hoping he would notice that I had remembered.

Captain Jack drew his gaze away from his textbook and up at me, his eyes looking extra blue today as he furrowed his brow together and tried to figure out what I was talking about. “I’m sorry. What was that?” he asked like he had missed something vaguely interesting.

Nope… nothing of interest… just me trying to look cool…

“I said, would you like your usual? You know”—I lifted up the soda gun—“a Coke.”

“Yeah, great. Thanks.” His mouth twitched, and I thought for a second I might get a smile, but then he placed a five dollar bill on the table and looked back at his book. So much for my evening of playful flirtation. Maybe I should staple the pages he was reading to my forehead so he would at least appear to be looking at me. I poured his soda and went over to the register to ring up their drinks.

“Homework done yet?” Iris asked as she wiped the inside of a glass before pouring a beer for another customer who had walked in.

“Nope. I’m totally flunking this class.”

Iris snapped the rag against my arm.

“Ow!” I rubbed the spot.

“A name. It’s not that hard.” She poured her beer and went over to her new customer as the door chimed again. I looked over at Captain Jack, who now had his textbook out of his lap and on the bar. Blondie was looking at the page, too. They both seemed serious. I grabbed a rag and wiped the bar by the first guy.

“What, do you guys have a test or something?” I asked before I had a chance to overthink my words.

Mystery guy took a drink of his Stella and shrugged. “Sort of. We go to culinary school, and we need to prepare a three course meal before we can move on to the next level.”

Culinary school? My eyes swam over to Captain Jack. He can cook, too? I think I had enough torture for tonight. Check, please!

“I still think adding citrus to the glaze is the way to go,” Captain Jack said, pushing the book over to the first guy.

“That’s too safe.”

“It’s classic. Better to go classic and present a strong meal than take a risk that they might not find palatable. If I take a risk with anything it will be my dessert, not my main course.”

The first guy shrugged. “Well, we can agree to disagree.” He pounded the rest of his beer and tapped on the lip of the glass to get my attention. It took me a moment to realize he wanted another beer. I had so many questions… Like what was Captain Jack cooking, and how could I taste his dessert?

I refilled the Stella and popped open another Blue Moon before mystery guy number two could even request it. Looking at the Coke, I saw it remained untouched, the ice melting and forming a clear liquid at the top. Well, good to know he didn’t want either one of us.