Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“Try it and I’ll tie you to the Space Needle by your baby toe.” I glare.
“I know. But seriously…?”
“We’re not getting married, okay?” I throw my hands up. “We just got into a relationship, had a baby thrown into the mix, and I have to move in here next week. Let’s not add rings and shit into that equation, got it?”
She hides her smile. “Got it. Although the baby kind of came first.”
“Fuck you, Black. Fuck you.”
I let the last interviewee out of the bar and bang my head against the wall. One of five interviews today has been worth my while. The others were all jacked-up college kids who can barely tell their left from their right.
My stomach growls angrily, reminding me that I haven’t eaten today. Thing is, I don’t want to eat. I feel sick, but that’s an empty stomach kind of sick, not a ‘Hi, Mommy, I’m in here’ kind of sick. But I’m afraid that, if I do eat, the sick will change.
I poke my stomach lightly. “You’re already making my life hard. I know you’re only a few weeks into this growing thing, but go easy on me, yeah?”
“Are you talking to your stomach?” Aaron is grinning when I look up.
“More specifically the person inside, but yes, I suppose.”
“Tyler called me this morning. Congratulations, Liv.” He hugs me and kisses my cheek.
“Thanks. I’m still getting used to the idea.”
“Talking to your stomach will probably help with that.” He smirks.
“You might technically be my boss, but you’re also my best friend’s fiancé, and if you keep that up, I’ll have a few hormone induced words for you, sir.” I flounce over to the bar and separate the résumés .
“I don’t doubt it,” he responds, joining me there. “Any luck?”
“It’s going okay. Two cocktail-shaker guys—I really have to stop calling them that—and two bar girls. One guy for the weekends. I still need another four or five staff members.”
“You and Tyler go to California tomorrow, correct?”
I nod, sighing.
“Let me know who you want in and I’ll have Dottie set up the interviews. Dayton can do it in your place.”
“I can do it when I get back.”
“After the bachelorette party?”
“Ah. Yes?”
“Don’t. You’ll stress yourself out. Dottie will call, Day will interview, and then you two can pick the best ones. Got it?”
I glare at him. “I won’t stress myself out.”
“The bars need setting up still, the tables need organizing properly, and staff have to be trained. It’s one less thing for you to worry about.”
“I won’t break from running a bar.”
“No, but you forget that your baby is my family, too, so I’m going to make it as easy as possible for you.”
I sigh and head for the store room. “Fine.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to set up the bar. God forbid I should stress myself out.” I roll my eyes and open the door. The boxes containing the large spirit bottles are by my feet and I bend to lift one.
“And for your next trick…” Aaron mumbles, taking it from me.
I throw my arms in the air and follow him back to the bar. “Holy hell! Why don’t you and your cousin just put me on bed rest for the next eight months?”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Tyler’s voice carries across the bar. “Although I have doubts about its success.”
“Fantastic. Both of you now. Here’s an idea. Why don’t I just sit here at the bar and supervise you?” I drop onto one of the stools.
“That’s a brilliant idea.” Tyler kisses my cheek as Aaron shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his shirtsleeves. “Tell us where to put them,” he instructs.
“There are another three boxes in the storeroom before you start that.” I rest my cheek on my hand.
They both disappear and return with all three boxes.
I flip the file to where I have the setup mocked up and tell them where everything needs to go. They do as I say, no questions asked. Although I’m secretly enjoying having both Aaron and Tyler doing exactly as I say, I keep my face blank and my voice down.
I mean, seriously. One hot guy in a suit and another—my hot guy—in a polo shirt that fits his shoulders and arms properly are moving fairly heavy stuff around.
I’m not saying the view is bad. At all.
“There, you see? You’re a manager and you just did a great job managing and you didn’t have to lift a finger.”
I stare at Aaron. “I’ll manage your ass out of here if you keep treating me like a china flippin’ doll.”
He laughs. “Is that everything you’d like done today, boss?”
I click my tongue and he grabs his jacket.
“You two have fun in California. Try not to do too much, Liv.”
I flip him the bird behind his back. Damn protective males. Tyler’s mom was right last night—cavemen, all of them.