Champagne Toast Page 2

  I fix my ponytail and push stray hairs back towards my scalp before wiping my hands on a towel.

  Walking back out into the bar, I see there is no trace of Evan. Their table has been cleared, his beer bottle is gone. Taking a deep breath, I join Bree behind the bar and resume my normal work schedule. But, something keeps pulling my attention towards the door. With each ring of the bell as customers walk in, my heart jumps into my throat. No one has ever made me feel like this, no one. So much regret, so much loss, and so much desire all swirled together in my muddled brain. In my muddled heart.

  Chapter 3

  Evan

  October 6, 2007

  “Hey man, you wanna grab something to eat?” Patrick, my roommate, asks as he pulls on his hooded sweatshirt.

  “I can’t,” I reply, placing my leather watch on my wrist and straightening out my wool sweater so no creases show, “I have an interview this afternoon.”

  “Oh, yeah, at the bar, right?”

  “Yep,” I nod.

  “Perfect place for you to work. You’ll get a lot of tips, dude.”

  “I hope so, this school is so expensive. I really need to make some money so I don’t end up in a huge amount of debt when I graduate.”

  “I hear ya,” he nods.

  “Yeah, sure you do, Mr. Scholarship,” I tease, raising an eyebrow.

  “Whatever, man,” Patrick shrugs. “It doesn’t pay for everything. In fact, I’ve been thinking of getting a job, too. Then, maybe this place won’t look like such a dump. I can hire a cleaning service or something.”

  I laugh to myself, shaking my head. Patrick is one of my favorite people, and frankly, I’m lucky that we were paired up as roommates when we first came to campus. But, seriously, what college student can afford to hire a maid for their apartment? Were we any dirtier than the average juniors at Northwestern? No, I’m pretty sure our level of filth is normal. But, Patrick comes from one of the wealthiest suburbs in the state. He’s used to being catered to, and I am the polar opposite. I’m used to working . . . hard. My family has always struggled and I know just how difficult it was for my parents to put food on the table while I was growing up.

  “Host a few less parties at our place and it’ll start looking a hell of a lot better, man.” I smile at Patrick. Aside from resembling a younger Brad Pitt, Patrick is also a standard genius. His IQ is so high that Northwestern was banging on his door, begging him to attend their prestigious University. He’s what they call ‘book smart’, acing his classes even when he skips them for weeks at a time. Incredibly intelligent, yet lacking when it comes to basic common sense. I’m the exact opposite. I see right through the bullshit, I understand the basics on how to get by, but when it comes to intellect, I’m not exactly known for my grades. I work hard to maintain my 3.0 here. In fact, I’m pretty proud of it.

  Despite being so different, Patrick has become my best friend over the past two years here in Evanston. I should hate the kid since he’s lived such a life of privilege and is oblivious to just how spoiled he is. But, I don’t hate him, not at all. We’re a good balance. Even when I come home after working my ass off at the library and there are forty people in my apartment drinking all of my beer. I know Patrick will replace it and I know he’ll kick everyone out if I’m in no mood to deal with it. He’s a good guy.

  And I’m not perfect either. I’m headstrong and stubborn, moody and sarcastic. I’m also guessing I can be a pretty big buzzkill for my carefree roommate. I study a lot, and I’m not as spontaneous as he is, because my desire to go far in life hinges on the fact that I know I have to work hard for it. Believe it or not, though, the only thing Patrick really hates about me is my love for the Pack. Even though I reside in Illinois, my football team will always be the Packers. I’m originally from Wisconsin, and this is simply something that Illinois cannot take from me. Thank God, we can agree on our college team. We are both tried and true Northwestern Wildcats fans.

  “So, wanna meet up after your interview?” Patrick asks. He doesn’t really like to hang out by himself. He bores easily.

  “Sure, I’ll call your cell.” I respond, placing my wallet in my pocket and checking my watch one last time, “I’d better go, man. I’ll check in later. Wish me luck!”

  “Luck!” Patrick yells after me as I close the apartment door behind me.

  Walking the five blocks to Molly’s Tavern, I’m glad I dressed warm. The October weather has begun and the signature Midwest chill is now upon the campus. I cup my hands together and blow into them, just as I round the corner and see the sign hanging from the tavern.

  The bell rings as I step inside. It’s only noon on a Saturday, but it’s football season and the bar is already busy. Wall-to-wall college students fill the large Irish pub. Can’t imagine why the manager chose this time to meet with me. I walk up to the bar, and I’m struck by the young woman behind it. She looks about my age, with a pale complexion and gorgeous deep brown hair. She smiles at patrons as she takes their orders and quickly fills their beer glasses. I sit down at the bar and wait for her to have a break before asking for the manager. I glance up at the TV above the bar, distracted by a car commercial.

  “What can I get ya?” Oh man, that voice. It’s gorgeous and right away I know it belongs to the beautiful bartender. She has a tiny dimple on her right cheek and her eyes are a fascinating shade of hazel. Her skin is flawless, with just a few freckles adorning the bridge of her nose and cheeks. She’s stunning.

  “I’m actually looking for Vince. My name is Evan Maxwell. I’m here to interview for the opening that was posted in the paper last week.” The young woman looks me up and down with a suspicious glance. I can’t tell if she’s about to flirt with me or laugh her ass off.

  “Vince asked you to come down here on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of football season?” Her tone is sarcastic. I like her already.

  “I know, I thought it was kinda weird myself,” I shrug. “Is he around?”

  “He was, but I think he stepped out for a bit. My name’s Kate. Let me get someone to take over for me and I’ll show you to his office, okay?”

  “That’d be great, thanks,” I nod, rubbing my hands along the oak of the bar.

  “Can I get you anything while you wait, a beer or something?” she asks, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously.

  “I think I’m smart enough to know it’d be very bad form to order a beer right before an interview,” I reply with a laugh, “although it is tempting.”

  “It’ll be our little secret?” Kate asks, her words sounding almost seductive. Suddenly, I feel I’m being tested, like I’m in the middle of a strange screening process. Order the drink and you’re done — no job for you.

  “That’s okay,” I grin, “I’ll just hang around here until you’re ready.”

  “Suit yourself.” Kate looks relieved, and somehow I’m confident that I have, indeed, passed her test.

  About ten minutes later, Kate walks around the bar and stands beside me. Her slight build is curvy yet petite, and I’m drawn to her even more now that I can see all of her. Immediately, I’m turned on by this woman and want to know more about her. Is she single? Does she go to NU? Is she as into me as I’m into her?

  “Hey, sorry that took so long. I’ll take you back to Vince’s office. If he’s still not there, I can ask you the basic questions and let him know how you did. I’ve done that before and he doesn’t seem to mind,” Kate says, running her fingers through her thick hair.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” I say. Kate smiles and leads me through the kitchen and the storeroom area of the bar.

  “Obviously, this is the kitchen. If you work here, you’ll be trained to know the ins and outs of everything, not just the bar out there. Be ready to wash dishes and empty the trash. We all have to do it.”

  “I get it,” I nod. “I’m not above doing stuff like that.”

  “Well, Vince gets pissed because he’s hired a few students who refuse to pitch in. All they wanna do is pour drinks
and hit on girls. But, not every guy can be Tom Cruise in Cocktail. There’s actually work to be done, ya know? It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” I can hear the sarcasm dripping off of her words, and I’m instantly smitten with this girl.

  “Understood,” I reply. “Are you a student, too?”

  “Yeah, but not here. I can’t afford Northwestern. I go to Oakton. Go ahead, tell me it’s crap,” she says defensively. Her cheeks redden in embarrassment, and I regret the question immediately.

  “No shame in going to Oakton. I’ve heard they have some really great programs,” I smile widely, trying to reassure her. She lifts her head just a bit, tilting it slightly as she peers into my eyes.

  “Seriously, the world does not begin and end with Northwestern,” I say in my most serious voice. Kate smiles, and suddenly, it feels like all the air in my chest has been compressed. Holy shit.

  She leads me into Vince’s office and I’m relieved that he’s nowhere to be seen. I want to have more time with her; I’m desperate for it, in fact. Ever since she smiled at me, it’s impossible to focus on anything else.

  “Well, it looks like he’s decided to ditch you. Um, what did you say your name was?” Kate asks, embarrassed.

  “Evan,” I say with a smile. “Evan Maxwell.” I reach out to shake her hand. She takes it in hers and eyes me suspiciously.

  “Well, Evan Maxwell, I guess I’ll start with some of Vince’s standard questions. I sent him a text when you first arrived and he still hasn’t answered.”

  “Does he do that a lot? Disappear when he’s in charge of the place?” I ask, curious, secretly hoping that this will be a habit of his so I can spend work time getting to know the beauty standing across from me.

  “Sometimes, yeah.” She shrugs her shoulders in a non-committal fashion. “Have a seat and we’ll get started.”

  I pull a chair from the corner of the room and drag it so that there are only a few feet between Kate and me. Kate smiles to herself, but I catch her expression even though I know she’s purposely trying to hide it.

  “I’m ready when you are,” I smile, placing my hands on my thighs, and awaiting my first interview question.

  “All right, here we go,” she says, glancing down at the file folder on her lap. “So, Evan, tell me about yourself.”

  “Well, I’m a junior at NU. I’m a marketing major. I love people and I’m a hard worker. I’m sure everyone says that, though,” I look at her expectantly. She shrugs her shoulders and gives me a half-smile. “You probably want to know what’s different about me? Here’s the thing, Kate, I won’t be late to work. I won’t throw a fit if I’m asked to sweep up broken glass or wash dishes. I have a ton of student loans and I’m looking to pay them off. I’ll work as many hours offered to me, and I think I’ll do a good job dealing with customers.”

  “Well, that leads me to my next question, Evan. We don’t have any official policies on this or anything, but we’re discouraged from dating customers. Vince feels like if we date them and screw it up or something, then we may lose business. How do you feel about that?”

  I stare her directly in the eyes as I carefully plan my response. “I can’t imagine wanting to date someone on the other side of the bar . . . if I’m working behind it, that is. Are there any policies for dating inside the work place?”

  She gets it. She knows I’m flirting with her. The stunning Kate tilts her head to the side and grins. “No, that would never happen here.”

  “Well, now I’m intrigued. Why is it that would never happen here?” I ask, shifting in my seat, so that I’m leaning towards her. She mirrors my body movements and shifts towards me just a bit.

  “Well, Vince met his wife here when he first opened the place, she was one of his first hires. They started dating pretty soon after her interview. So, he’s cool,” she says. “Although I have to say, it’s a little presumptuous of you to already be thinking about dating your coworkers.”

  “Is it?” I ask in an innocent voice. “I was just curious,” I say, holding back a laugh. Kate looks flustered and looks down at the file still resting on her lap. She holds onto it as if it will protect her from any discomfort. I love that I’m getting such a reaction out of her. Our attraction seems mutual.

  “Well, then, let’s . . . um, let’s keep going with the questions,” she clears her throat, and I do the same, shifting once again, this time resting back in my seat to give her some breathing room. A slight look of disappointment crosses her face. Kate continues, “What kind of hours are you looking to do here?”

  “Honestly, whatever I can get. I can work weeknights and weekends, whatever Vince wants.”

  “Well, I make the schedule, so I’d be the one to work with you on that,” she states.

  “Even better,” I give her a wicked grin, and she bites her upper lip attempting to hold back a laugh. Just then, her phone beeps.

  “Oh, that’s Vince. He’s on his way and will finish the questions. He wants me to head back to the front. It’s bound to get pretty packed with all the games starting.” Kate places the file folder on Vince’s desk and stands. I rise to my feet and stretch out my hand. She places hers in mine and we stand, shaking hands for just a few seconds too long.

  “It was nice to meet you, Evan.” She smiles, her cheeks a beautiful shade of rose. And at this moment, I would do anything to keep her here just a little bit longer, just a few more minutes of time with this beautiful girl before me.

  “And you, Kate.” I smile and hesitate for a moment, which is so unlike me — women don’t usually intimidate me. I’ve always known exactly what to say and when to say it. But, now, I’m pausing and she notices. She starts to walk out of the office, when I finally muster up the confidence to ask what I’ve been dying to ask since I walked through that door.

  “Hey, what time does your shift end? Wanna grab some dinner when you get off work?”

  “Um, Evan, I’d love that,” she looks uncomfortable. Maybe I was misreading her? Or maybe she thinks I’m being inappropriate. This is a job interview, after all. She continues, looking deeply into my eyes, “But, I have a boyfriend. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh,” I say, crushed. “Got it.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says, looking guilty.

  “Seriously, no worries, Kate. Maybe we can hang out if I get the job.”

  She smiles warmly, “Well, if I have anything to say about it, you already have the job.” She raises an eyebrow and walks out of the room. I watch her walk down the hallway. Her walk is sexy, and I’d like to think that she’s strutting for my satisfaction. When she reaches the end of the hallway, she turns back and notices that I’m watching. She gives me a coy smile and heads towards the bar.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 4

  Kate

  October 16, 2007

  “He’s really hot, when did he start?” Bree asks as we wipe down glasses at the bar after closing. Evan, the new bartender and the man I can’t stop staring at, is hoisting up chairs and placing them on top of tables. And every single time he does it, I get lost in the delicious movement of his back muscles. Bree’s voice brings me back to reality.

  “I don’t know, a week ago, I guess?” I lie. I know Evan has been working here for exactly ten days. Ten days of flirting. Ten days of stolen glances. And ten days of absolute torture.

  “You’re such a liar, Kate. You’re pretending you’re not into him. You forget that I know you better than that.” She gives me an all-too-knowing look.

  “Whatever,” I whisper, trying to encourage her to keep her voice down so he won’t hear us, “so, he’s cute. What’s the problem? I’m allowed to look at him.”

  “Well, I don’t think Shawn would appreciate that very much,” Bree says in a sing-songy tone.

  “Shawn knows I work with guys. He’s fine with it.” I lie again. Although this time, she doesn’t see through me. I’m usually a pretty good liar when I want to be, but for some reason, I’m finding it difficult to lie about the guy I’ve
known for ten days.

  “Shawn is also a very jealous guy, so you’d better be careful.” Bree raises an eyebrow as she dries a pint glass.

  “I can handle Shawn,” I sigh, knowing she’s right. If Shawn ever saw me with Evan, I’d be in trouble. My attraction to him is beyond obvious, and with each passing day, it’s getting harder and harder to rein myself in. I love that he’s so much taller than I am, with perfectly toned muscles. His short dark hair and chocolate brown eyes compliment his olive skin. I can’t stop staring at his gorgeous chiseled face. Evan glances over at me as he places the final chair onto a table. He smiles briefly before walking in our direction.

  “So, I think I’m getting the hang of this place, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Armour?” I seriously want to jump out of my skin every time he calls me that. It is the sexiest thing ever, and I do my best not to blush every time he does it. You have a boyfriend, Kate.

  “You’re doing all right,” I smirk. Evan shakes his head as he stares down at the floor. Bree winks at me as she sneaks off to the backroom.

  “You’re too much, Armour. Seriously.” He smiles warmly.

  “Oh really?” I persist. Evan and I are smart-asses, this much is clear. Shawn isn’t a smart-ass. Shawn is boring as hell. We’ve been dating for about four months, and in those four months, I think he has made me laugh once. Once! That’s it. Evan has made me laugh more in ten days than I ever thought I could, and I’m starting to crave the laughter he brings into my life. Hell, I’m starting to crave him, period.

  “Yep,” Evan laughs, his dark eyes drawing me in, “you just can’t admit that in the short time I’ve worked here, I’m already getting as many tips as you, if not more.”

  “Well, we all know why that is,” I say, making no attempt to hide my sarcasm. Evan loves when I’m sarcastic.

  “And why is that?” he asks, moving closer to me, stopping where the bar begins. We are separated by just a couple feet of oak wood. The tension is palpable . . . I can feel it on my skin. He is daring me to answer.