Authors: T. Torrest
It felt good.
I
felt good.
Chapter Twenty
Avery came bounding into the bar early one night. I’d gotten pretty used to her hanging around with all the events she was always planning for the place.
We’d held a dart tournament for the town’s softball league and Avery got
Norman Sports
to sponsor it. We raised a couple hundred bucks and a whole new crew of customers. She planned a poker night for them the following week, and though we could only let them gamble for prizes, the night was a smashing success.
We actually ran out of Budweiser that night, and I had to send Alice out to the local
Bottle King
to grab some more. Avery contacted Anheuser-Busch, and they were so impressed that we’d managed to sell out of their product that they offered to sponsor our pool tournament a few weeks later. They had one of their reps deliver a bunch of customized banners with the specifics, and Avery pasted them all over the bar and around town.
A few weeks later, she devised a contest to come up with a new drink for the menu board. The deal was, you had to drink it before nominating it. We sold a
lot
of liquor that night. I had to call for a few cabs for the handful of guys who were too drunk to drive home, so yeah. It was a good night.
We brought a ton of new business into the bar with that one, and Avery made some good business connections.
Even on days when we didn’t have an event scheduled, it wasn’t so out of the ordinary for her to come by just to hang out. Tonight, she was here to hang out.
The happy hour crew was going strong, and every stool at the long bar was filled. So, I mixed her a cocktail, cracked myself a beer, and set us up in one of the booths. She turned her body sideways, leaning her back against the wall and letting her feet hang over the edge of the seat. She flipped her sandals at the ends of her toes as she said, “Let me ask you… Give me the pros and cons of being self-employed.”
She’d been focusing so much attention on my bar that she hadn’t spent too much time getting her own business off the ground. I guessed she was finally ready to dive in. Good for her.
“Well, you pretty much already know. Being self-employed just means that
everything’s
on you, and I’ll tell you, it’s not for everybody. There are nights when I’m so dog-tired and I still have to close out the numbers from the day’s take. There’s no use in putting it off; it’ll just be waiting for me tomorrow. I both love and hate a busy night. Love it, because I know the money’s rolling in, but hate it because that always means more paperwork for me. More numbers to tally, more credit cards to approve, more booze to order for the following weekend. Juggling the cash in order to make sure everyone gets paid isn’t any fun, either.”
“Like, your employees?”
“My employees are the least of my concerns. They get paid first, so the money’s always there. It’s the vendors that I have to be a bit more creative with.”
I couldn’t hide the proud smile that was threatening to slip into a full-blown grin.
Avery saw my battle and shook my arm. “Like how? What do you do?”
“Well,” I started in, still trying not to bust, “You know Ralph? My linen service guy?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, let’s just say he’s a bit of a sports fan.”
Her forehead scrunched as she asked, “Yeah, so?”
“Ralph works for memorabilia, is what I’m trying to say.”
“Oh my God! Really?”
“Yep. And the guy will take anything that’s seen the inside of an arena: Used ticket stubs, signed programs, socks worn during the games…”
“Zac, shut up!”
Her reaction made me laugh. “Very convenient when I don’t have the cash.”
She was appropriately impressed, but then her brows furrowed as she gnawed at her bottom lip. “But where do you get all that stuff? You’re not giving away all your private stash, are you?”
“Ah. Very astute, young Grasshopper. I’m still in touch with the infamous Johnny.”
“
Johnny’s
Johnny?”
“Yep. Aside from the Devils who are always hanging around, he throws private parties for lots of other guys in the NHL. Some NFL players, too. I don’t know about you, but most party guests like there to be food and booze.”
Her eyes widened as she got where I was going. “Which you provide.”
“Correct.”
“At cost to you.”
“And them. My only out-of-pocket expense is my kitchen staff’s wages, and I’d be paying that anyway because they’re already here. The way I figure it, I’m getting my bar towels and tablecloths essentially for free, Ralph’s getting some collectibles to clog up his man-cave, Johnny’s throwing his party on the cheap… everybody wins.”
She was mulling over the new information as I added, “You should hear what I do for my liquor suppliers!”
I’d always made a point to make my credit card payment on time so that I could
charge
my bill from the liquor distributor, who was brothers with the guy who supplied our paper products, and who would discount his price if we supplemented it with booze. A crazier full-circle there never was.
Damn. That was as recently as a month ago. It was nice to have some steady money coming in these days.
I’d already given all my employees a raise, and was well on my way to paying off the few debts this place still had hanging over it.
It had been years, but it sure as hell felt good to breathe again.
Until I looked at Avery too hard. Because then I’d forget to.
I shook my head straight and asked, “What’s with the curiosity? You finally ready to get your business going?”
“Yeah. I had cards made up and started putting the word out. Too bad no one’s hired me yet.” She shot me a sly smile and added, “Except you, of course. But you pay shit.”
We both shared a chuckle over that one. I’d tried a few times to toss a couple bucks her way, but she wouldn’t accept it. She said she hadn’t done anything worth being paid for yet, and considering all the money I’d been dumping into various charities, felt too guilty taking any piece away for herself. Whenever I tried to explain that I wouldn’t have been able to give
any
thing if it weren’t for the business she drummed up in this place, she always dismissed my claims and changed the subject.
“What about Travis and Alice?” I asked.
“What about them?”
“Well, they’re trying to plan a wedding for January, and neither one of them has any clue what they’re doing. I mean, case in point, they’re having it
here
, for godsakes.”
After only three months, Travis and Alice were getting married, and God help them, they wanted to have the wedding at the place where they’d met. Of course I was going to do everything I could to help, but arranging a wedding was a little out of my wheelhouse. With all the new business, it would be easier for me to delegate the planning to Avery. I finally had some extra money coming in and could actually pay her to plan the thing. It could be my wedding present to them, and a great new event for Avery to showcase her talents.
“Ooh! A wedding! I haven’t planned one of those in over a year.” Her brain was already buzzing; I could see the ideas taking shape before her eyes. “I’ll have to talk to the happy couple first, but I’m already thinking we’ll need lights. And maybe some potted trees. And lots and lots of tulle.”
“I have tools. You can just use mine.”
“
Tulle
, not ‘tools,’ you tool.” She giggled to herself before asking, “Is it okay if I stockpile some stuff here?”
“Yeah, of course.” I pulled my keychain out of my pocket, wiggled off one of the spares, and handed it over. “Here. It’s to the front door. This way, you can haul your own damn boxes,” I teased.
She busted me right back. “I don’t know, Zac. A key to your place? This is pretty serious.”
I shot her a sham dirty look. “I trust you. Just don’t steal anything. I know people. They’ll find you.”
* * *
I locked up over thirty minutes ago, but the party was still going strong.
The party of two, that is.
Avery and I had been going drink-for drink all night, and now she was insistent that she help me close up shop. We were presently in the process of flipping the stools onto the bar so Hank could do the floors in the morning. We both had one hell of a buzz going, and she almost wiped out more than once during our task.
“You,” I finally admonished, putting my hands at her shoulders and directing her to stand against the long bar. “You stay right here before you hurt yourself.”
She snapped her teeth at my hand and slurred, “I only hurt the ones I love, baby.”
She giggled at her own joke, and I just shook my head as I flipped the last of the stools. Then I headed over to her. “I’m afraid to ask this, but do you want a drink?”
To tell you the truth, I would have much rather spent the end of our evening in my nice, comfy bed instead of hanging around my abandoned pub.
Barring that, there was always booze.
I let the bar hold me upright as I took a swig from my beer. I smiled to myself as I watched her perk up from her slouched position next to me.
“Yes! In fact, I wanna buy the round a house. Wait. Yes! Shots of house for the round, baby!”
Damn. She was drunker than I thought. I pointed a finger at her half-filled glass, realizing it was nothing more than melted ice at this point. “How ‘bout some water instead?”
She took another air-chomp at me and said, “My teeth keep trying to bite you. Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, your
mouth
keeps calling me baby.”
“Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. I like it.”
“The biting or the baby?”
“Both.”
I stared down at my beer and cleared my throat. “So, what’s with your sudden predilection toward alcohol tonight? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk before.”
Well, there was that one time, but I’d been trying really hard to forget about the details of that night.
She sighed, then dropped her head onto her arms. “He contested the divorce! Can you believe that? We were all set and ready to go, but then… I don’t know. He said he was having second thoughts.”
Shit. “Are
you
?”
“Noooo. Well, I’m sad to see the marriage end and all, but not sad enough to halt the proceedings. Now it’s like we’re starting from Square One, and it will be months before the judge signs off on it.”
“
If
your husband can agree to go through with it this time.” I started to feel sick. What if the guy decided he wanted to work things out? What if
Avery
did?
“He will. We had a loooong talk about it yesterday. We both know it’s for the best. He just needed some closure.”
She was drunk, but that was the first solid indication I’d ever gotten that told me maybe she wasn’t sitting around pining for the guy. I had to know for sure. “What about you?”
“What about me what?”
“What’s it going to take for you to get
your
closure?”
“I’m already closed, thanks.”
Even though it was exactly what I wanted to hear, I wasn’t entirely buying it. She seemed hesitant, like there was something she was fighting to say. “There’s something you’re not telling me, Ave.”
She gave a
pffffft
to the hair across her forehead and leaned her torso against the bar, twisting a straw into knots. “Alright. Fine. I just… I just hate the feeling that I
failed
at something, you know? I’m not used to failing. And the thing is, I was
good
at being married. It just… I guess it just always felt like I was playing house, though, you know? I was a good homemaker, but I wasn’t a good
wife
. We both deserved better than that.”
I breathed an involuntary sigh of relief. I was half expecting her to tell me that she still loved the guy, but thank fuck that’s all that was bothering her.
She looked stressed about it though. Maybe I shouldn’t have been celebrating just yet.
Maybe I should’ve been trying to cure her hurt in the best way I knew how.
“If it makes you feel any better,” I said, holding my hand over her glass. “I won’t pull away if you want to try and bite me again.”
She stared at me blankly for a second until my words registered… and then she busted out laughing. “Did you just say ‘bite me’? Well, screw you, too!”
The dimple in her cheek made a welcome appearance, and I was almost knocked out by the sight.