When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(2)

I walk down the bustling sidewalk with a pep in my step and a smile on my face. Bayview always manages to put me in a good mood. Working out has become a high for me. I’m always searching for something new to kick up my endorphins.

When I walk through the front entrance, I’m greeted by a broad, obnoxious smile. “Hi, David.” I wave to our bartender.

“Hey, beautiful.” He nods in my direction. I toss my bag over the bar, and he stows it underneath where it will be safe. “You ready for tonight?”

I rack my brain, trying to remember if we’re expecting large crowds. “What’s tonight?”

“Our first date.”

I reach over the bar and place my palm on his cheek. “Oh, David,” I mockingly swoon. “You’re too pretty for me.” I lightly smack him before walking away.

The excuse is true. David’s pretty in the over-exuberant kind of way. He tries too hard. Anyone who takes longer to get ready than Violet is not to be trusted. The perfect peak of his hair screams high maintenance.

“I’m going to break you down one of these days, gorgeous, and you’ll say yes,” he shouts. David rests on the counter, and his eyes are planted on my backside.

“What every girl dreams of hearing.”

He slides his strong body off the bar and drags a rag over the top. “You know what I mean.”

“Bye, David.” I wave over my shoulder as I go in search of my apron.

David’s tried to wear me down for almost a month now. His efforts are admirable, but I can’t get past the manicured hair and shiny skin. Violet’s initial thought was he’s gay, but by the parade of girls following him out of the bar at the end of the night, it’s safe to assume he’s anything but. He may be endearing, but he’s not what I want.

When I barge into the small, dingy breakroom, three of the craziest, kindest girls I’ve ever met bombard me.

“You have to settle this argument for us,” Alex shouts, trying to get to me first. She pushes her younger sister out of the way.

Alex’s sister, Beatrice, groans. “Let me explain it to her. If you do it, you’ll make her favor you.”

“I will not, Bea. Let me explain it to her,” Alex argues, shoving her sister out of the way again.

Kate, the blonde bombshell of the group, jostles past them. She ties on her black apron and smiles at me. “I have an idea; why don’t you let me explain it since I’m not involved in any way, except that these two idiots have dragged me into it.”

“That’s a good idea. Kate, you explain it to her,” Bea instructs.

“Alex likes a boy, but Bea saw him first. What are the rules?” Kate blurts, completely disconnected and annoyed by the conversation.

Alex rolls her eyes at her best friend. “That’s hardly explaining it.”

“And I saw him first,” Bea pleads her case.

“This isn’t a movie. You didn’t have a moment. There was no whipping around of the hair and a love-struck look across the room.” Alex slings the insult and shakes her head as if she knows she’s won this round.

“Here’s an idea, and probably the best one in this situation,” Kate chimes in. “Both of you forget about him because he’s more than likely not worth tearing sisters apart.”

Bea nudges her sister in the side. “I don’t know.”

“He’s pretty hot.” Alex laughs and we all giggle.

Samuel bulldozes through the door and glares at us. “Daytime crowd came in. Get out there.” His tone is stern.

Kate salutes his back. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

Bea wraps her arm around Kate. “You’re going to get fired if you keep it up.”

“Sam wouldn’t dare fire me. Would you?” Kate leans forward and tugs the bottom hem of her shirt. The top of her black bra peeks out of the already low-cut V-neck. She bites her lip and grins at our boss.

His eyes venture down to her boobs, and his pants bulge right along with his eyes. He turns to me, realizing his slip-up, and scurries off. Bea and Alex hurry off to their sections to greet their waiting guests. I grab Kate’s arm before she can escape my inquisition.

“What the hell was that all about, Kate? Please tell me you aren’t fucking your boss. Our boss,” I chastise.

Kate slips from my grasp as if she’s insulted, but turns before she’s too far away. “I’m not fucking Sam.” She laughs, cracking a smile. “He’s fucking me.”

Before I whisper a single word, she’s greeting a table of frat boys I recognize as regulars. Our crowd differs from day to day. Some Saturdays, this place is full of college co-eds. The next, desperate thirty-somethings, looking to hold onto their youth for one more night, run us to death. You never know what you’re going to get here. In a life full of predictability, a little bit of randomness, wherever you can get it, is nice.

Loud music thumps as I pass through the crowd to get to my usual section. Even in the light of day, this place keeps the party atmosphere alive. Bea smiles at me as she nods to a group of rowdy guys. As I get closer, their t-shirts give them away as UConn baseball players.

A loud groan slips out as I supply them with napkins, and take their drink orders with the least amount of enthusiasm. My history isn’t exactly favorable for their kind.