“She went on break.” He waves his hand toward someone behind the bar, and they nod. A few moments later one of the employee’s hands him a mop and disappears. I also see the girl who was taking my order, carry a tray to a table on the other side of the room. He’s lying.
“I’m going to,” I point toward the bathroom, “clean up.” My hands are sticky from the beer and I want to make sure I don’t have any wet spots on me. I definitely don’t want to look like I peed my pants. This will also give me time to figure out what he’s doing serving drinks instead of pouring them behind the bar.
“Go ahead. I’ll have this cleaned up before you get back and a new drink in place.” He continues to mop the area around the table.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I enter the bathroom at the end of the hall. There’s a line. Of course, there is. Because why would anything work in my favor today? I debate pushing my way past the people in line to the mirror, but I know that will only piss people off. Getting in an argument isn’t on my list of things to do today. Especially after everything that has happened. I can’t say it would work in my favor. It’s almost like Friday the 13th bad luck, but on a day that is neither Friday nor the thirteenth.
The line moves along slowly, giving me time to be with my thoughts. Every part of my brain is working through the day. First, waking up well after my alarm went off. The bride from hell making last minute changes to her bouquets. I should be helping my friends instead of here at the bar. Then Nathan calling at the last possible second to cancel his plans with our son. Which left me with coming up with yet another excuse to give David because his dad can’t be bothered to spend any sort of quality time with him. Luckily my mom and Bryce stepped up to take care of him tonight. Much like they always do. I’m not sure where I’d be without them.
All I wanted was a nice night out to decompress. Drink a couple of beers and read my book. Pathetic? Maybe, but it got me out of the house. Maybe I should have gone to Brews Clues and stuck to coffee. No, I wanted to come here. It’s the norm for me. Wednesday nights at Out of the Ashes with my girls. And now…my book is ruined and my clothes may be wet in unfortunate places.
Finally, the mirror is in front of me and I step out of the line to check my clothes. There’s the spot on my knee and a few drops on my shirt. Turning, I look over my shoulder to make sure none got on the back of me. Nothing. At least that’s going my way tonight.
I face the mirror once again, checking my makeup. My lipstick is still intact, eye makeup is good. Hell, I don’t know why I’m checking. It’s not like I’m here to meet anyone. I don’t have time for that. I have a son waiting at home. One who is in sports and needs me to be focused completely on him.
Maybe having beer spilled on me is a sign I need to go home. To spend time with my kid and not take a moment for granted. Not be here in this bar, checking out the bartender when he’s not looking. Because let’s be honest, that’s why I’m here. I find Carlos attractive. It’s the reason I’m here early when the girls are with me. All so I have a chance to ogle him without them giving me shit. But I don’t understand why he went out of his way to bring me my drink tonight. It’s unlike him, not that I know him all that well, but I’ve observed enough to know it’s not the norm. And I need to know the answer.
Now that I’ve confirmed I don’t look like a hot mess, I can get to the bottom of this. People move out of my way as I walk through the bathroom to the door. Apparently, I look like a woman on a mission. Not that I’m complaining. It’s less people I have to force my way through.
I don’t see Carlos as I approach the table I was occupying, but the person who originally took my order is setting another glass of beer on the table. A lime wedged on the lip of the glass. If she had brought my drink originally, none of this would have happened.
I take a seat and grab the beer. The glass is cold as it meets my lips. The small sip enough to repair my mood. Not by much. Enough to keep me from marching to the bar and demanding Carlos tell me what exactly is going on. Except when I look toward the bar area, he’s not there. The only people I notice are Angie, the owner, and another bartender I’ve never met before. Both of them are staring in my direction. I can’t understand why, though. Did I have something on my face and miss it? God, I hope not.
I look away and take another sip of my beer. I notice my book is gone. Maybe, Carlos has it? I’m not sure, but I’m definitely going to need it back. Despite it being ruined, I will have to return it to the library.
A chair slides across the floor and stops right beside me. The book lands with a heavy thump on the table. “Angie keeps a blow dryer in the office. I thought I’d try to dry it as much as possible. But I’ll still pay for it if I need to. It’s my fault.”
Carlos’s voice is deep and full of regret. I can’t help but feel bad for him. He sounds completely torn up about the spilled drink. I pick up the book and flip through the pages. Some of them are still damp, but it’s not completely horrible now. “You didn’t have to do that.” I glance up into his brown eyes and his gaze is intense. “Thank you, though.”
“Not a problem.”
He stands to leave but I place a hand on his. I don’t know why I do it, but it’s almost instinct. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
He glances toward the bar then back at me. He’s chewing on his bottom lip. Whatever he thinks is about to come out of my mouth makes him nervous. He’s not the only one. “Why were you the one who served me the last drink? Not that I’m upset about it. You rarely leave the bar, especially when it’s packed.”
He side steps the question with one of his own. “Why aren’t your friends here? You’re usually with them.”
Maybe if I answer his question, he’ll answer mine. I’m going to try it and hope it doesn’t blow up in my face. “They are getting things together for a wedding this weekend. They said they didn’t need my help, and to keep our original plans. So,” I lift my arms in the air, “here I am. Now answer my question.”
His focus is no longer on me. Eyes going to every part of the building. Anything to keep from falling on me again. “Carlos?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you bring me the drink instead of the normal staff?”
He mumbles something too low for me to hear, but clears his throat and speaks. “You’ve been coming here for months, and I’ve noticed.”
“Okay.” That doesn’t sound creepy at all. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“I, um, was wondering if you’d go out on a date with me.”
That was not what I was expecting. I don’t even know what to say. He caught me completely off guard. I open my mouth, but can’t form words. This isn’t good. I can’t date anyone. Especially not him. I’ve already proved to my friends and myself that I like him. That I find him attractive. I know it could never be one date with this guy. I would want more and more. I can’t do that. Not now, anyway. Not when I have David to think about. I’ve never brought a man home to him, and I don’t intend to start now.
“Are you going to say anything?” His voice is wobbly. I know it took everything in him to ask me that one thing. To push aside his grouchy exterior and be vulnerable for even a moment.
“I’m sorry,” I begin. Who knew turning a guy down would be so difficult? “I ca—” The words die on my lips. Nathan walks through the doors and toward the bar. There’s no way he won’t see me. “Oh shit.”