“Lucy, stop it. You’re not a kid anymore- you can’t hide your crappy attitude behind teenage angst.” The heated glare trained at my sister made my eyes burn with its intensity, and my lip curled up in distaste. Even now, at 24 years old, Lucy acted so immature I was almost ashamed to be related to her.
“But I don’t want to work tonight, Ryan. Come on, give me one day off.” I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes with a superhuman effort, and my arms folded over my chest. Every year we had the same problem. If I gave Lucy the day off, she’d complain about not getting paid for it. If I didn’t give her the day off, she’d complain about doing what little work is required to run beers to tables.
It was a no-win situation.
“You are working, and if you don’t come in tonight, you don’t come in at all, Lucy. There are plenty of young women that need experience in this town and wouldn’t give me nearly half the shit you do.” My declaration echoed across my hollow section of Main Street. We opened in an hour, and Lucy had only just come to me about wanting the night off. I had known this was coming; today marked a week now since the first day of summer. The excitement about working was wearing off, like the way a child was excited for school until he or she realized it sucked.
Lucy’s dark eyes blazed and her fists propped on her hips, but I held my ground. We had this fight every year, and every year she still showed up afterward. It was a good thing she took my threat seriously; I had no problem benching her permanently.
After a hot, tense stare down, my sister let out a hoarse groan and whirled around on her heel to stomp up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, the tension left my shoulders, and my hands fell to my sides. With a hard shake of my head, I let out a heavy sigh, my gaze falling to the multitude of glasses that still had to be cleaned.
My body moved robotically to wipe each tumbler and shot glass while my mind wandered off. It was an annoying habit I’d picked up lately as all my thoughts centered around one person.
Sylvia. After that first night, she came back to the bar four times, always ordering something rather large to eat. It bothered me to think that she was only eating when she strolled in anywhere between 7 and 8 p.m.; the meals were big enough to compensate for an entire day. Staring into space as I cleaned shot glasses, I pursed my lips together as my inner beast growled disapprovingly.
“At least she got a good realtor.” I mumbled as I set down one glass to pick up another. I only knew this because Sylvia had come in and told me all about her trip to Anchorage. Her drive hadn’t been as bad as the one up here; the realtor was very friendly and understood her circumstance. Usually I wouldn’t even listen to that kind of blabbing, but she just looked so pleased with how the trip had gone. It was impossible to ignore the one hundred watt smile she wore.
But that was the extent of our interactions. I never saw Sylvia outside the bar, and there were two excellent reasons why. Number one- the bar was open until 3 a.m., and I slept until prep time unless my bear woke me up demanding I shift. Number two- I didn’t want to come off as creepy even though I was very aware of the fact that an entire week had passed. Sylvia didn’t know me; I was just the man that worked the bar. Showing up at her house was some next level interest that I had to beat down.
The soft tinkling of the door chime broke me from my thoughts, and my head whipped towards the sound. I expected to see one of the other girls that worked here, but instead my eyes landed on Sylvia’s curvaceous form. Her blue eyes were duller than I remembered, and there were big, dark circles under her eyes.
A small, almost sad smile lifted her lips, and I let go of my burden as she wandered over to sit directly in front of me.
“You okay? I got coffee if you want some.” Arching an eyebrow as Sylvia dropped her head into her arms, my lips twitched up. She hadn’t even bothered to tie up her long, curling waves, and her shirt completely disappeared under her locks.
“No… No coffee… I already had coffee- lots and lots of coffee… I spent all night going through the stuff in the attic. My arms are going to fall off.” Part of me was glad Sylvia had something in her house; she probably went to a SAM’s Club when she was in Anchorage. Another part of me was kind of annoyed at how she was working herself. Leaning on my elbows, I scratched my jaw and ruffled my beard a little before dropping my chin into my palm.
“You know, it’s not good to binge like that. You could just come to get me if you need help.” Hunched over herself, Sylvia stiffened, and for just a second I wondered if I was out of line. She peeked out from the crook of her arm, her vivid blue eye full and sparkling.
“You’d do that for me?” Her murmur was muffled by her arm, and she blinked, her eyes as wide as saucers. Before I could stop myself, I chuckled, unable to hold it back any longer. It was impossible to think she was anything other than cute at that moment.
“Yeah, sure. If you need the help, I’ll be happy to. I don’t usually do anything until I open the bar, anyway.” I shoved away the voice that scolded me for giving up precious hours of sleep. That didn’t matter though, and the rest of me was waiting on a knife’s edge as Sylvia lifted her head completely to stare at me. Her lips were thinly pressed together, but I kept my own shut to avoid messing up this window of opportunity.
God- that sounds like I’m going to jump her. Pushing myself up, I snatched my rag and a glass as her eyes followed me. I could feel her gaze on my arms and shoulders before finally settling on my face. Glancing up, I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling at her glowering expression.
“Okay. But don’t wear yourself out. I don’t think I could bear the responsibility of five dozen angry locals on my porch because you didn’t open the bar.”
Letting out a bark of laughter, I shook my head at the ribbing as I twisted the rag inside of a shot glass.
“Sylvia, it takes a lot to wear me out.”