Carolina crosses her arms, annoyed. The truth is, I haven’t seen much of either of them. Carolina’s career has taken a bit of a stumble, and she is nursing a broken heart—caused by the same guy who messed with her career. Sara, too, had a tumultuous relationship with a scumbag who beat her to a pulp only a few months ago. Both women threw themselves into their work at an alarming pace.
I know people deal with heartbreak differently—I probably would do the same—but I’d be lying if I said I don’t begrudge them for hardly being around anymore. It takes a miracle for me to see them these days. I’m sure it is their guilt of not being around as much that has them pushing Mandy and this concert on me. As if I have no other friends. I mean, I don’t, but that’s beside the point.
“Look,” Carolina says. “I know you likeIndustrial November. I also know Sara and I have been a bit absent—”
“A bit?” I scoff, but I smile because I can’t be too mad at them.
Carolina raises an eyebrow at me. “Fine. A lot absent. We just want to make sure you don’t fall into your tendency toonlywork.”
“Tell me,” I say to both Carolina and Sara, “why, exactly, aren’t either of you going with Mandy?” I raise my eyebrow right back at Carolina, even if my brows aren’t as spectacularly thick and sculpted as hers.
Sara hangs her head, her blond tresses falling over her face like a curtain she hides behind to avoid any and all conflict, and Carolina has to answer for the both of them. “We’re working.”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress laughter. They can’t get out of work, but expect me to?
“Look, I know we’re total hypocrites, but we are slaves to our schedules. We can’t take off on such short notice. You, on the other hand, are your own boss. You can do anything you want, even close if you have to,” Carolina says.
I shake my head. “I can’t close.”
“Can’t Joe handle it on his own?” Sara asks, looking up at me once again.
I glance over at Joe. He’s been my bar manager for a year, and I have yet to leave him alone on a weekend night. I don’t doubt he’d be able to handle it, but I’m not sure I’d have any fun worried about the million things that could go wrong. I’ve built my business from the ground up. It’s successful because of all the hard work I put into it.
Mandy, for her part, is looking at me like I’m holding her new puppy. Talk about peer pressure. I roll my eyes.
“You’re theIndustrial Novembersuper fan, Carolina. I know their music from it popping up on some of my playlists, and I like them well enough, but I couldn’t name a song if you had a gun to my head.”
“I know. Trust me,” Carolina huffs. “It’s killing me that I won’t get to meet them.”
Rolling my eyes again, I look over at Mandy. “Let me talk to Joe. If he’s okay with it, and we can get at least one backup waitress to come in, then yeah. I’ll go with you.”
I take my place back behind the bar—my favorite spot to be. I worked hard to give this place—my baby—an edge that felt likemewithout being kitschy.La Oficinais a modern bar with a moody feel, including exposed brick walls, tall, black-framed windows, dim lighting, and black and white photographs of my favorite Spanish rock bands. The likes ofCafé Tacvba, Maldita Vecindad, Molotov, andPanteón Rococóadorn my walls.Industrial Novemberisn’t amongst their ranks in my heart, even though they are the world’s most listened-to band.
I don’t admit to my friends that if the tickets were toCafé Tacvba, I’d jump at the opportunity and close the bar faster than Mandy could sayHot Potato.
“What was that all about?” Joe asks, breaking my thoughts.
“Mandy wants me to go to theIndustrial Novemberconcert with her tomorrow.”
“No way! You get to go? I’m so jealous. I’m not too ashamed to admit that I actually wept when I couldn’t get tickets. They sold out within an hour.”
“I’m not sure I’m going. It’s our busiest night,” I say to him because he clearly hasn’t considered the ramifications for him if I were to take off.
“Hey, if you don’t go, please say I can have your ticket.”
“What part of ‘it’s our busiest night’ are you not getting?”
“Sorry, boss,” he says. “But you really should go. I don’t think I can work for a woman who, when given a chance to see the best band on the planet, declines. I’d have to question your judgment.”
If Joe weren’t married, or Mandy weren’t quite as forward as she is, it wouldn’t be inappropriate for them to go together. But given the realities, it’s me or no one.
“Are you sure you can handle it, Joe? Like, really handle it?”
“You haven’t given me a chance to prove myself yet. This might be the perfect opportunity.”
“Okay. If you can get Tracy to come in tomorrow night, and you swear you’ll text me the minute you need me for anything at all, I’ll go.”
I don’t much care for our backup waitress Tracy, but she’s gotten us out of some trouble in the past.