The Bartender

I Like It Messy

"Push up your bra a little extra right before you go to greet or check up on any table. Trust me, it'll reflect in your tip. And don't be afraid to flirt a little bit, especially if they seem eager for it. Oh my god, Camila? Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" Camila turned to face Dolly. "Oh, yeah. Sorry..."

"Jesus...I take it he lives up to the hype? You haven't stopped staring at him since he got here." Dolly looked over at the bartender who was currently shaking up a watermelon margarita. "He is pretty. I can't really blame you for staring."

"I wasn't staring," Camila shyly defended. 

"Yes you were. So, was it good?"

"What?"

"The sex. Was it as good as everyone says it is?" Dolly acted as if it was a totally normal question to ask someone she barely knew. Camila was a bit taken aback but tried to pull herself together and formulate and answer that would satisfy her coworker's curiosity without divulging all of the dirty, dirty details.

"Well, I don't know what everyone says, per se..." Camila shrugged. Dolly flashed her a look, one that told her to stop stalling and answer her question. "It was great, obviously. He's experienced. He knows what he's doing."

"I've heard rumors that he really enjoys using his tongue...is that true?" Dolly asked in a hushed whisper. Camila blushed and looked down at her feet, remembering just how much he had enjoyed using said tongue the night before and then again that morning. "Oh my god, look at you blush! It's really that good?"

"It's incredible," the small brunette quietly admitted.

"Shit. I might quit my job just to experience it. If he wants a girl he doesn't work with I can give him that." Dolly looked over and hummed in delight at the sight of him. Camila felt a strange annoyance with Dolly's blatant and obvious infatuation for the man that had literally been inside of her just hours earlier.

She meant nothing to him; she knew that. They had sex but that didn't mean anything. He did it all the time with many girls and he was proud of that. She herself wasn't a stranger to random hook-ups. But god, she truly couldn't stop thinking about the way he made her feel. Was it really like that for him with every girl he encountered? What a wonderful sex life that must be.

Dolly sighed as she watched the hostess seat yet another table in her section. She hated the lunch rush. The blonde tugged on Camila's wrist, pulling her in the direction of the table where three men in business suits sat gawking at various waitresses as they passed by. Camila couldn't help but be a tad bit grossed out by the way their eyes seemed to be scanning their bodies in approval as they ordered. They each asked for a beer. How original, Camila thought to herself. 

"Actually, can we just go ahead and order our food now?" One of the men asked right as Dolly and Camila were about to walk away. "We're on our lunch break so if we could just order everything at once that would be great."

"Of course," Dolly chirped before turning to Camila. "Would you mind going and grabbing the beers from Shawn for them?" Camila nodded and started to scurry towards the bar.

"Make sure we get limes, please!" one of the men shouted. Camila threw him a thumbs up as she continued walking towards the bar where Shawn was wiping the counter down.

"Making a mess over here?" Camila joked, motioning to the rag in his hand. He looked up at her and smirked.

"Oh come on, peach. You know I like it messy." He winked. Camila shook her head and desperately tried to hide just how flustered he could make her. She was failing though. She could tell that she was failing by the cocky look on his face.

"I need 3 beers."

"You and me both."

"Shawn—" she warned.

"Relax! I'm on it." He was just about to grab them himself before pausing and turning back towards her, motioning for her to join him behind the bar. She hesitated for only a moment before walking around to stand next to him. "Usually I'll be able to grab them for you, but sometimes the bar gets busy so I want you to know how to grab them yourself if I'm tied up with other customers." She nodded, agreeing that it was a good idea for her to be able to fend for herself. "Now, we only sell beer in two portion sizes: 23 ounce glasses and pitchers." He motioned to the shelf that held both the options. "The 23 ounce glass is standard. If they want a whole pitcher, they'll specify that." He grabbed three of the large glasses in one of his hands. Apparently the size of his hands had advantages outside of the bedroom too. "Did they tell you what kind of beer they wanted?"

"Um...n-no...?" she nervously replied. Fuck. Did they? Did she just not remember? "I know they asked for limes."

"Corona," he nodded. "If they ask for limes, they want Corona. If they ask for an orange slice, they want Blue Moon. Otherwise you need to remember to ask what kind of beer they want, okay?" She nodded. "The taps are super simple to operate." He grabbed one of the glasses he had set on the counter and made sure she was watching before pulling the handle to dispense the cold beer. "See? It's easy." He placed the filled glass onto the tray. "You fill the next one." She nodded confidently, grabbing the next empty glass and repeating his actions. She held the lever down and watched as the golden liquid poured in. She stopped pouring as the foam started to reach the top of the glass. Shawn shook his head in disapproval. "More."

"It's going to overflow!"

"No, it won't," he chuckled. "Add some more." She hesitated but followed his direction anyway, putting the glass back under the spout and pulling down the handle again — very gently, as she was still convinced it was going to spill over. Of course, Shawn was right. Apparently the bartender did know something about bartending. Who knew. When she finished, she look back up at Shawn for approval. He nodded with a sly smile. "Good girl." The praise was quiet but she heard it loud and clear. Sure, the context was different. But the tone was similar to how he said it last night and it still had a similar effect on her. She felt like an idiot when she looked up at him and saw the look on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing by saying those words to her. She shook it off and rolled her eyes, placing the second glass onto the tray with the first one he had done. "Now fill the last one. I'll get you your limes." Camila watched him turn away and grab a small bowl from under the counter, filling it with pre-sliced limes as she poured the beer into the third glass. Her instincts told her to let go of the lever early but Shawn's voice echoed in her head. More. Add some more. She followed his instructions and of course it worked perfectly. "You feel good?" he asked as he set the bowl of limes onto the tray. "Or do you want me to carry it over to them?"

"I think I can do it," she replied, somewhat unsure of how confident she felt in her answer. "I mean I'm going to have to do it on my own eventually. Might as well start now." She shrugged before sliding her hands under the tray and lifting it up as steadily as possible. "Thanks for your help." He nodded and watched her closely as she carried the tray to the table of 3. She was walking slowly, careful to not spill any of the beer she had just poured for them. It was cute; he'd admit it.