man?”
I shot Carlos a warning look and ignored Tony’s overt advances. The best way to handle guys like Tony was to stay professional. “Make sure the wine is ready to go in the next thirty minutes. We’re getting ready to put the appetizers out now,” I said.
“Whatever you say.” Tony slugged more wine and returned to the other side of the bar.
Why had Mercury hired him? Or maybe the better question was, why hadn’t she fired him? A drunk bartender was going to make for a potential disaster.
I turned to leave, but Whitney scurried in at that moment. She bumped into me and almost dropped her tablet. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you.” Her hands shook as she repositioned the tablet under her arm.
A man wearing a Lake of the Woods fishing hat, one of the lodge’s sweatshirts, camo pants, and work boots stepped in behind her. He had a can of WD-40 clipped to his tool belt. “I heard there was a problem up here?”
Whitney shuddered. “No. No problem.”
“I was talking to him,” the man said, twisting his head toward the bar.
“Yeah. Generator’s not working.” Tony sneered. “You better get back outside and fix it, Gavin.”
Gavin’s hand went to his tool belt, where he patted the canister of WD-40. “Yep, that’s what I do around here. I fix things.” His meaning was clear. Mercury must have asked him to step in.
Tony slugged more wine and laughed. “Sure you do.”
Dean held out his wine glass. “I’ll take a splash more, if you don’t mind, old chap.”
“I do mind, old man. You’re cut off.” Tony yanked the wine bottle from the top of the bar.
Gavin stomped to the bar. His heavy boots thudded with each step. “If the man wants another drink, give him another drink.”
“This is my bar.” Tony pounded his fist on the counter. “I decide who drinks.”
I caught Carlos’s eye. What was happening?
“It’s Mercury’s bar.” Gavin hunched his shoulders. “Give the man a drink.”
Tony reached for the bottle and slammed it on the bar. “You want a drink? Take it.” He flung the bottle and knocked Dean’s glass off the bar. It shattered on the hardwood floor and splattered on Dean.
“Maintenance.” Tony snapped his fingers at Gavin, and pointed to the shards of broken glass.
Dean’s reflexes were surprisingly quick for his age and how much he’d had to drink. He sprang from his stool and yelled at Tony. “Do you know what you’ve done? These are Balmoral leather-lined royal hunting boots. They cost five hundred pounds.”
Tony scoffed. “Five hundred pounds. What is that? Like five bucks?”
Gavin walked behind the bar and handed Dean a towel. Dean mopped his trousers and glared at Tony. “You will be replacing my boots and trousers.”
Tony grabbed the bottle and pushed past Gavin, completely ignoring Dean’s fixed stare. “Time for my smoke break.” On his way outside he paused and winked at me. “Don’t forget our date later, hot chef.”
In your dreams, I said to myself.
“Sorry about him,” Gavin addressed all of us. “Mercury said he was in rare form today. She wasn’t kidding.” He wiped the counter and looked up at me. “Don’t think we’ve met. You must be the caterer.”
“Yeah, Jules,” I replied. “And this is Carlos.”
“Welcome to LOW. You met our friendly bartender, I see.” Gavin tossed a wine-stained towel in the sink.
Carlos shook his head. “This is no way to run a bar.”
Gavin removed a broom and dustpan. “Tell me about it. Mercury has to get rid of him.”
Dean stood to make way for Gavin to sweep the floor. He swayed slightly. Whitney raced to help steady him. “I believe I need a new pair of trousers,” Dean said. “Can’t show up to dinner looking like this, can I? I’ll be speaking to your boss about being reimbursed for the damages that bartender did to my clothing.”
“I’ll help you to your cabin,” Whitney said. She seemed much calmer. “You said you’re working on a generator or
I shot Carlos a warning look and ignored Tony’s overt advances. The best way to handle guys like Tony was to stay professional. “Make sure the wine is ready to go in the next thirty minutes. We’re getting ready to put the appetizers out now,” I said.
“Whatever you say.” Tony slugged more wine and returned to the other side of the bar.
Why had Mercury hired him? Or maybe the better question was, why hadn’t she fired him? A drunk bartender was going to make for a potential disaster.
I turned to leave, but Whitney scurried in at that moment. She bumped into me and almost dropped her tablet. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you.” Her hands shook as she repositioned the tablet under her arm.
A man wearing a Lake of the Woods fishing hat, one of the lodge’s sweatshirts, camo pants, and work boots stepped in behind her. He had a can of WD-40 clipped to his tool belt. “I heard there was a problem up here?”
Whitney shuddered. “No. No problem.”
“I was talking to him,” the man said, twisting his head toward the bar.
“Yeah. Generator’s not working.” Tony sneered. “You better get back outside and fix it, Gavin.”
Gavin’s hand went to his tool belt, where he patted the canister of WD-40. “Yep, that’s what I do around here. I fix things.” His meaning was clear. Mercury must have asked him to step in.
Tony slugged more wine and laughed. “Sure you do.”
Dean held out his wine glass. “I’ll take a splash more, if you don’t mind, old chap.”
“I do mind, old man. You’re cut off.” Tony yanked the wine bottle from the top of the bar.
Gavin stomped to the bar. His heavy boots thudded with each step. “If the man wants another drink, give him another drink.”
“This is my bar.” Tony pounded his fist on the counter. “I decide who drinks.”
I caught Carlos’s eye. What was happening?
“It’s Mercury’s bar.” Gavin hunched his shoulders. “Give the man a drink.”
Tony reached for the bottle and slammed it on the bar. “You want a drink? Take it.” He flung the bottle and knocked Dean’s glass off the bar. It shattered on the hardwood floor and splattered on Dean.
“Maintenance.” Tony snapped his fingers at Gavin, and pointed to the shards of broken glass.
Dean’s reflexes were surprisingly quick for his age and how much he’d had to drink. He sprang from his stool and yelled at Tony. “Do you know what you’ve done? These are Balmoral leather-lined royal hunting boots. They cost five hundred pounds.”
Tony scoffed. “Five hundred pounds. What is that? Like five bucks?”
Gavin walked behind the bar and handed Dean a towel. Dean mopped his trousers and glared at Tony. “You will be replacing my boots and trousers.”
Tony grabbed the bottle and pushed past Gavin, completely ignoring Dean’s fixed stare. “Time for my smoke break.” On his way outside he paused and winked at me. “Don’t forget our date later, hot chef.”
In your dreams, I said to myself.
“Sorry about him,” Gavin addressed all of us. “Mercury said he was in rare form today. She wasn’t kidding.” He wiped the counter and looked up at me. “Don’t think we’ve met. You must be the caterer.”
“Yeah, Jules,” I replied. “And this is Carlos.”
“Welcome to LOW. You met our friendly bartender, I see.” Gavin tossed a wine-stained towel in the sink.
Carlos shook his head. “This is no way to run a bar.”
Gavin removed a broom and dustpan. “Tell me about it. Mercury has to get rid of him.”
Dean stood to make way for Gavin to sweep the floor. He swayed slightly. Whitney raced to help steady him. “I believe I need a new pair of trousers,” Dean said. “Can’t show up to dinner looking like this, can I? I’ll be speaking to your boss about being reimbursed for the damages that bartender did to my clothing.”
“I’ll help you to your cabin,” Whitney said. She seemed much calmer. “You said you’re working on a generator or
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