Decisions We Make After Midnight Read online

  Case turned around to fiddle with a stack of dishes that had been disturbed by Charlie’s quick exit, but I could have sworn it was also so he could hide a smile. Meanwhile, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. Charlie was insane.

  Actually insane.

  And maybe he had a death wish because I had known Ada for one whole minute and that was long enough to be fully aware she wasn’t the kind of girl you messed with.

  She definitely wasn’t the kind of girl you smacked on the ass while she was on her way to facilitate a sexual harassment video.

  “Whatever you decide to do to him,” I told her sympathetically, “he deserves.”

  My support soothed some of her anger, and she was able to stop vibrating long enough to absolve some of the rage in her expression. “Thank you, Lola.”

  After she’d turned around, Case leaned in, his grin still plastered across his face. “Kiss ass.”

  “Wh-what?”

  He laughed at my expense. “Relax, I’m just kidding. But seriously, if you’re going to suck up to anyone, you made a good choice with Ade. The siblings will just use you as a pawn in their sadistic family games. Ada wields power over the schedule. You want to be on her good side.”

  I blinked at him. Maybe I should have written this down. “Thanks for the advice.”

  He winked. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  As he turned back to his dishes, I realized he had been flirting with me. I didn’t know that it was really me, though. I mean, he was definitely flirting. But I wasn’t sure he was capable of turning it off. He seemed like the kind of guy who just naturally tried to charm anything female. It was more of a tic than a compliment.

  Ada stood in the doorway to an office waiting for me. As I joined her, I saw that it wasn’t an empty office. Eliza sat at one of the two desks pushed against each other on one side of the room. A small seating area took up the wall with the doorway. She was laughing on the phone with someone, pushing her long, dark hair over her shoulder.

  “Don’t flake out on me now, Jonah. You promised we’d have Cake Walk on tap for the release.” She listened for a minute, wrote down some notes, and chewed the end of a pen cap. Her eyes grew steely while she listened. “I have an insane amount of Truly to prove it,” she snapped, pleasantries gone. “That was our deal. I take the hard seltzer you can’t get rid of off your hands, and you give me Cake Walk.” Her focus flicked up to where Ada and I watched her and mouthed, “Sorry,” to us. “Then you’re going to have to come pick up the shitty seltzer because I don’t want it anymore . . . Don’t tell me to calm down. We had a deal, Jonah . . . I don’t care if they aren’t releasing kegs this far south. Call them back, drive there if you have to. You’re pretty enough to get your way . . . I’m not patronizing you. You’re screwing me over . . . We’ve been advertising for weeks for this nearly sold-out event . . . Oh, really? Are you going to reimburse me for the Truly and the event tickets? Figure it out, Jonah, or find a new place to sell your expensive shit.” She threw her pen at the desk to punctuate her threat. It bounced off the corner of her computer keyboard and landed right back in her lap.

  I didn’t know who Jonah was, but I felt bad for him. Eliza looked innocent enough—big, green doe eyes like her brothers, impossibly long lashes that had to be extensions, and a perfectly gorgeous face—but the steel in her voice sounded unbreakable. I would not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

  “Call them back,” she ordered. “We’ll pay double. They can send a rep if they want. Just get it done.” Her shoulders relaxed, and she plucked up her pen from her lap and chomped down on the end. She laughed at whatever the deep male voice on the other end of the line was saying. I could hear his tone but not make out his words. “You can bring me a bottle of Pappy too,” she said, returning to her good mood once more. “For the headache you gave me.” She laughed again and made a show of rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you later this week. Bye, Jonah.” She hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair. “As if it matters if the Pappy is for the bar or my personal collection. He owes me after all of that.”

  “That was Jonah?” Ada asked in a knowing tone.

  “Yeah, trying to get away with being a total asshole. He’s lucky I don’t cut him off completely. I don’t need his shenanigans, you know? Sure, he has the best distribution in the state, but he’s not worth the drama.”

  Ada snickered. “You’re not going to fire him. He’s your best friend.”

  “And a total idiot,” Eliza added. “Sorry, did you guys need something?”

  “The office,” Ada told her. “Lola is starting tonight, so I need to show her the sexual harassment and workplace safety videos.”

  “You’re starting?” Eliza squealed, jumping to her feet and clapping. She looked at Ada. “You hired a waitress. Oh, my God, you hired a waitress.” Then she lunged forward and hugged me. Standing there awkwardly, I wasn’t sure where to put my hands. I patted her shoulder gingerly until she pulled away. But even then, she held my shoulders with her long, slender fingers. “Your name is Lola?”

  “Or Lo,” I told her. “Er, whatever.”

  “Lo,” she repeated. “I love it.”

  I was certain my cheeks were the color of ripe strawberries. “Thank you.”

  “Listen, Lo, if you need anything, come find me. Or Ada. Never go to my brothers for help. Do you understand? Never.” I probably looked like a deer caught in headlights because all I could do was blink at her. She must have realized she’d totally freaked me out because she went on to explain, “My two brothers and I own and run this place. So technically, they have as much authority as I do. But legitimately avoid them at all costs. Charlie will try to sleep with you, and Will is a monster.”

  “Wh-What?”

  She smiled, and it nearly blinded me. Too bright, too happy. “Not a real monster. Like, he’s not a psycho or anything. He just doesn’t have great people skills.”

  “He does when he wants something,” Ada put in.

  Eliza took a step back. “That’s true. It’s better to just avoid him altogether. Ada is a good resource. Actually, she’s your best bet. She practically runs the place.”

  “I do run the place.” Ada laughed, but I noted an irritated tone with it. “Now get out of our hair so I have time to go over the menu with her before we get busy.”

  Eliza threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back. “You’re kicking me out of my own office?” It wasn’t so much a question as an exasperated declaration. Ada didn’t say anything in response. I continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway. Finally, still shaking her head, Eliza gathered up some papers and a folder from the filing cabinet. “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll move out to the floor. I’ll be at my usual table if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” Ada singsonged, taking Eliza’s seat as soon as she’d vacated the spot.

  I moved out of the way so she could walk past me. Ada gestured toward the seat tucked into the other desk. “You’ll need the space to write,” she explained when I glanced at the unclaimed chairs against the wall.

  “Ah.” I sat down, feeling awkward. My dad and Owen hated any interference with their workspaces. I didn’t know whose desk this was, but I could narrow it down to Will the Monster or Charlie the Manwhore. Neither option made me comfortable.

  Ada proceeded to pull out employment papers that needed to be filled out and signed. I spent twenty minutes scribbling in all the little blanks while she played on her phone. She smiled when I handed her the last form and turned Eliza’s computer monitor toward me.

  “Now for the fun part.” She proceeded to fast-forward through the sexual harassment and safety videos, pausing on the important parts. Occasionally, she asked if I had any questions.

  I always shook my head. I had never been forced to watch training videos before, but everything was so common sense, the monotony of it hurt my head. “I get it,” I told her near the end of a poorly executed skit on the importance of putting up we
t floor signs any time I mopped or a customer spilled.

  Ada nodded. “I figured.” She started to fast-forward again. “This is just more of the same. Make sure you put a sign up if you have to clean the men’s bathroom, etcetera. For safety reasons, don’t ever leave the bar unattended.” She gave me a look. “Also, because the patrons will just start helping themselves. That’s not in the video, but I’ve had it happen to me more than once. They think they own this place. Like they’re entitled to free shit if I’m not there to refill their beer immediately.”

  A clenching feeling of panic seized my chest. “Are you serious?” What if that happened to me? How was I supposed to handle rogue customers?

  She shrugged. “I mean, if you’re there, no one is going to like, rush the bar. But if you need to grab something in the back or take a break, just make sure someone is there to fill in for you or wait for the bartender to come back.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay.”

  “Emergencies happen, of course, but even Case will step to the bar if you’re desperate.” Her gaze narrowed as she assessed me. “It’s not a hard job. We’re all here to help you.”

  I shot her a shaky smile. “Sorry if I seem nervous. I’ve just only worked for my dad’s company, so I don’t have a lot of restaurant experience.” Or life experience. I started working for my dad before I had my master's, and this was basically the first time I’d taken any significant time off. So at twenty-six, I probably should have been through some of these things before—training videos, minimum wage paychecks, and service experience—but there we were. Which was pretty sad if you thought about it.

  She sucked in the corner of her lip, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s, uh, not really a complicated job. Like I said, just ask for help if you get confused or stuck or whatever. Someone will be around to guide you.”

  “Are there other servers?” I assumed I would be one of several waitresses every night, but the building was still pretty quiet, and it was almost five now.

  “Eventually,” Ada said cryptically, not meeting my eye. “We’re kind of in hiring limbo right now. I’ll be there to help you tonight. Oh, and Miles too. He’s our bartender.”

  “Is there more than just one bartender?”

  “Kind of,” she said, again cryptically. “Will bartends too. Sometimes.” She cleared her throat. “And by sometimes, I of course mean all the time.”

  That surprised me. True, I didn’t know anything about him. But he didn’t seem like the slinging drinks kind of guy. He was buttoned-up, serious, monster-y. I couldn’t even picture him behind a bar, let alone making drinks to order. “Oh,” I said, sounding as surprised as I felt. “Great . . . the scary one,” I muttered, unable to hide my trepidation.

  She looked at me then, a sheepish twist of her lips making me doubt this decision for the hundredth time. “He wasn’t always a beast, okay? He used to be more . . . carefree.”

  “What happened?” The nosy question slipped from my mouth before I could stop it.

  Ada blew out a long, heavy breath. “It started with his dad passing away. Then his girlfriend cheated on him—”

  “With his brother, by the way,” a deep voice filled in from the doorway. Both Ada and I jumped, finding Will standing there, listening.

  My cheeks flamed, and I instantly broke out in a sweat along my hairline. I was too much of a chicken to turn around and meet his gaze. It was everything I could do not to crawl under the desk and curl into the fetal position.

  “Holy cow, Will,” Ada groaned, a hand pressed to her heart. “Don’t be a creeper, for God’s sake.”

  I was too mortified to say anything. How had we not noticed him? Was he not wearing shoes? Did he actually have paws for feet? The man was as stealthy as a freaking jungle cat.

  “You’re in my office,” he said blandly enough that I braved turning to face him. His irritated gaze flicked to me before returning in full strength to Ada. “Training, I presume?”

  She sounded breathless when she said, “You remember Lola? She’s starting tonight.”

  “You mean, after you’ve completely filled her in on all the bar gossip?”

  Ada pushed to her feet, brushing her hands down her thighs and sniffing. “You’re more self-righteous than usual. What did Charlie do this time?”

  His eyes widened at her brazenness. Honestly, mine did too. I was ready to grovel for this man’s forgiveness. And not just because he was my new boss. Will English was genuinely terrifying and not at all the kind of guy I wanted to cross. I didn’t need his sister or Ada to warn me because he positively radiated back-off vibes. But mostly, I felt awful because who could even imagine what that would be like? Losing a parent? Your girlfriend cheating on you with the brother you had to work with?

  I mean, I had a too-clear picture of the relationship drama. But still, with all that grief mixed in? How awful.

  “Don’t change the subject, Ada,” Will snapped. “It’s not self-righteous to be irritated when you find your bar manager talking shit about you to the new employees.”

  “Employee,” she clarified. “And I wasn’t talking shit about you. I was just filling her in on why this place is so fucking dysfunctional.” She took a step toward him, tilting her chin in defiance. “You know, because we need her to stay and all. Amidst the fucking dysfunction.”

  Will ground his teeth together but didn’t argue her point. “Are you done in here, gossip queen? I need to make some phone calls.”

  “We can be,” she said smoothly. She met my gaze and inclined her head toward the door. “We’ll finish on the floor.”

  “How kind of you,” Will snarled, his teeth still locked together.

  As she passed by him, Ada put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently before leading our exit through the doorway. Will didn’t look at me again, but I watched some of the tension release from his shoulders at her touch.

  Who was this woman? She had a way with the English siblings that was both frightening and admirable. She didn’t take shit—from anyone—and managed to maintain her calm despite their snarling volatility.

  I wanted to be her when I grew up. Or tomorrow. Or right now. While I struggled to scrape together enough confidence to get from minute to minute, she practically glowed with it. And it was enough to wrangle the English siblings—which I was quickly learning was a difficult job.

  “Lola?” Will’s clipped voice called my name just as I stepped into the kitchen.

  Fear pelted my insides, and I suddenly had the desperate instinct to run away. Borrowing some of Ada’s moxie, I managed to turn my head and meet his gaze.

  Okay, that was a lie. I stared at his chest and trembled. “Hmm?”

  To my surprise, he didn’t fire me on the spot. But his voice sounded angrier than ever when he snapped out a terse, “Shut the door behind you.”

  After mumbling something that sounded like “No problem,” I slammed the door and scurried after Ada before the big, bad wolf gobbled me up.

  Maybe Will English wasn’t an actual monster. But he sure was intimidating. And it didn’t help that I was someone easily intimidated. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to work together much. He could do his thing. And I could do mine—whatever that was. And ne’er should the two ever meet.

  3

  “I’ll have a Manhattan,” the gentleman told me before I was even able to greet the table. “And she’ll have a cosmo.”

  “With a cherry,” the woman added quickly, holding up one finger with a sharpened, claw-like fake nail attached to it.

  I pulled out my notepad and pen. Ada had advised me to write everything down until I got the hang of waiting tables and familiarized myself with the menu. It was brilliant advice and helped me manage the stress of what was turning into a pretty busy night for a Thursday.

  Will English did, in fact, bartend. Miles, a super nice guy in his mid-thirties and apparently some kind of bartending guru, had called for help around seven. Will had slid behind the bar looking more relaxed than
I’d ever seen him. Not that I’d seen him a lot. But when Ada and I had left him alone in the office, he’d been a brewing storm—crackling lightning in an unpredictable sky, pelting rain, golf-ball-sized hail, broody peels of thunder. Possible chance of a tornado. Now, behind the bar, he was all easy smiles and peek-a-boo dimples. I could hardly reconcile the two personalities.

  Regardless of his milder demeanor, I’d done my best to stay away from him. Miles was happy to fill my drink orders, and I was happy to use a bartender who hadn’t walked in on me trying to get the dirt on him.

  “Do you have a liquor preference?” I asked the couple at the high-top table set for two. This was a question I’d learned to ask the hard way. Apparently, Craft was a place for picky drinkers. They wanted difficult, demanding, high-maintenance concoctions, and they always had a liquor preference. The house brands of whiskey or vodka weren’t good enough for them. They needed whatever persnickety alcohol was going to add an extra three dollars to their drink total. It was mind-boggling how many options one drink could offer. It was stressful too. I wasn’t a big drinker. Owen and my brother had constantly called me a lightweight. I rarely tried anything other than wine. And never had strong opinions on what kind.

  Definitely not a strong enough opinion to change the makeup of a drink someone else had already put together for me.

  The woman dragged her eyes from the small food menu and sighed in my general direction. “What do you mean?”

  Crap. What did I mean? I looked at my notes—cosmo—and tried to remember what exactly was in a cosmo. Vodka, right? I had no idea what went into a Manhattan. “Like what kind of vodka you prefer?”

  She shared a look with her date. “I just want the one that’s on the menu.”

  A cosmo wasn’t on the menu. I knew that for a fact because I would have recognized that drink. Thanks, Carrie and the girls. Instead, Craft’s menu was filled with drinks Will had made up himself or twists on the classics—but a cosmo was apparently not a classic outside of the Sex and the City fandom because it wasn’t on there. And I still didn’t know what went into a Manhattan. Although to be fair, I had heard of a Manhattan. I was almost positive my grandpa liked to drink those before heart attack number two and Grammy made him stop imbibing entirely.