Tipsy

Six

Chapter Six

Mikah

Tyler was the best hire we'd made in years. Other than ten minutes of register training, the guy took one look at the shelves behind him, reviewed the day's special, and he was off. I leaned into the bar—with a straw in my mouth, sucking down a soda—and watched him manage the entire bar without a hiccup. Every mixed drink ordered was a no-brainer for the guy who self-admitted to learning to walk in a bar. He wasn't joking. He made me appear amateur. Which was fine, because now I was going to have time to pursue other tasks I had in mind for Mulligan's. And I needed to have this plan ironed out and foolproof, because presenting it to Ollie was going to be a tough sell. My brother had his own vision of what the place should be.

The training documents for Tyler were tossed into the trash. Other than working a closing shift with the new-hire, I felt confident in letting him run the show while in Mexico. It wasn't as if we would be completely off the grid. I would remain a phone call away if any troubles arose with the bar.

"So, when is this wedding?" Tyler asked as he slid two screwdrivers across the bar to a couple waiting on their food.

"Next week. Think you can manage? Do you have questions? I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to pick up on things this fast."

"Other than bussing a bar, tending one is the only other job I've ever had. It's not a skill you forget," he said.

I agreed. The movements of grabbing bottles, glasses, and garnishments were a skill similar to riding a bike. Once you got the hang of where things were located, so long as they remained there, you were good. Luckily for Tyler, I was incredibly organized for restocking and inventory. The setup was ideal for the workflow to remain smooth.

"You said your bar closed shop?"

Tyler's wet rag hit the bar top, and his eyes only briefly shifted towards me. "Yeah." He swiped the towel across the bar. "Customers stopped showing up when our family trouble started. The bar was there for almost forty years before that. I tried to keep it going, but we had weeks with no customers. It was ruining me financially."

"No one else in the family could take it?"

It was a no. His face said it all. Whatever happened back home, his family wasn't on good terms. Been there and done that. Thankfully, Ollie's and my relationship had mended. Running from it to ignore it would not help Tyler any. And just as I thought of telling Tyler this little piece of advice I'd learned, Shelby's arrival through the doors of Mulligan's reminded me I hadn't learned a damn thing.

"Shit," I muttered, wishing I had the time to hide.

Tyler looked in the same direction as me to see with the curse was for. "Who's that?"

"My ex. Kinda."

"Kinda?"

"It's a long story," I mumbled as she walked our way.

Shelby approached the bar and took a seat. She laid a credit card on the bar and slid it in my direction. "You left this at my place last night."

"Ah." Tyler patted my back with a knowing grin, now understanding the term kinda ex-girlfriend. He moved to the other end of the bar to offer refills to his customers, giving Shelby and me privacy.

I pulled out my wallet and slid the card back into it. I knew I'd forgotten it there after attempting to get coffee this morning. It was fine; I carried cash, but it was a stupid move for this reason. Shelby hadn't stepped foot into Mulligan's since I'd fired her nearly two years ago—after I'd ended our engagement. Now she was making herself comfortable and reaching for a menu.