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Authors: J.J. Bryant
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expectantly from behind the bar.
Beth felt like an idiot. She hated working behind the bar. People didn’t treat her like she owned the Inn then. Not that everyone had to know it but she worked really hard to get here and had really pulled herself up. She always got annoyed when she had to cover shifts for her employees and people treated her like the hired hand. And what was worse, she had to serve this guy. She was hoping he’d order something simple. Although she was a gourmet chef, she couldn’t mix a drink for her life. And oddly, something else made her a little uncomfortable around this man. He looked terribly familiar and he was good looking in that handsomely imperfect kind of way. His glasses also made him look bookish, not something that was common in Gray Harbor.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
Michael was startled by her presence and stumbled over his words. “Um yes, I’d just like a Sam Adams,” he said, before he even registered who he was speaking to. Then he really noticed her, all of a sudden. Wow, he thought. She was gorgeous. He had always had a thing for redheads ever since — no, it couldn’t be ... could it?
She went to the fridge and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, a beer. That she could handle. She opened the beer with her back facing him and grabbed a menu as well. “Here you go, sir, one Sam Adams. Can I interest you in something to eat?” She held out the menu.
As he accepted it, he thought to himself that she could interest him in a lot of things. Before he could let his mind wander or embarrass himself with a physical reaction to her, he said, “Sure, that would be great.”
He quickly glanced at the menu and asked her, ”What’s good here? I came here thinking I wanted a burger but it looks like you have so much more to offer here.”
Was he hitting on her? Seriously? Here we go. Why did men always hit on waitresses or bartenders? It’s not like they actually want to chat with them. I mean, he was good looking, extremely good looking. She was taking way too long to respond to him and was just staring. She caught herself and was glad she had plenty of answers to his question. After all, the menu was her creation.
“Well, with that beer I’d recommend either our burgers or you could try the American Kobe flat iron steak with spring pea shoots, hickory smoked bacon, and roasted yukon gold potatoes with a tarragon whole grain mustard sauce.”
She was sure he wouldn’t get that, no one ever ordered something like that to just eat at a bar alone, but he did ask.
“Wow, that sounds perfect.”
He looked down at the menu again and added, “ I’d also like to get the roasted Penobscot bay oysters … sounds great. I don’t think I have ever had them served with a spinach shallot crème fraîche. But it sounds amazing,” he said, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and beamed, handing her back the menu.
Beth noticed his movement and made the connection. She had seen him before. Her old lab partner always was doing that with his glasses whenever he smile dup at her. Well if it was him he had certainly changed for the better since high school. Back then he had been scrawny and quiet, with terrible acne and huge glasses. He was certainly looking better. She had never admitted it to her friends, but despite all that, she had had a little bit of a crush on him in high school, even though he was a bit of a nerd and short. He was always pleasant and had seen her at her worst and never mentioned it to anyone. When her parents had died, she broke down and Michael had comforted her and covered for her in school. And then not sixth months later, her sister, she — well, no point in thinking about that now.
“You’re not Michael Malone, are you?” asked Beth.
Michael was taken aback; he was sure she wouldn’t remember him. “Um, yes, yes I am. Have we met before?”
He tried to play it cool. If this was Beth, she had changed quite a
Beth felt like an idiot. She hated working behind the bar. People didn’t treat her like she owned the Inn then. Not that everyone had to know it but she worked really hard to get here and had really pulled herself up. She always got annoyed when she had to cover shifts for her employees and people treated her like the hired hand. And what was worse, she had to serve this guy. She was hoping he’d order something simple. Although she was a gourmet chef, she couldn’t mix a drink for her life. And oddly, something else made her a little uncomfortable around this man. He looked terribly familiar and he was good looking in that handsomely imperfect kind of way. His glasses also made him look bookish, not something that was common in Gray Harbor.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
Michael was startled by her presence and stumbled over his words. “Um yes, I’d just like a Sam Adams,” he said, before he even registered who he was speaking to. Then he really noticed her, all of a sudden. Wow, he thought. She was gorgeous. He had always had a thing for redheads ever since — no, it couldn’t be ... could it?
She went to the fridge and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, a beer. That she could handle. She opened the beer with her back facing him and grabbed a menu as well. “Here you go, sir, one Sam Adams. Can I interest you in something to eat?” She held out the menu.
As he accepted it, he thought to himself that she could interest him in a lot of things. Before he could let his mind wander or embarrass himself with a physical reaction to her, he said, “Sure, that would be great.”
He quickly glanced at the menu and asked her, ”What’s good here? I came here thinking I wanted a burger but it looks like you have so much more to offer here.”
Was he hitting on her? Seriously? Here we go. Why did men always hit on waitresses or bartenders? It’s not like they actually want to chat with them. I mean, he was good looking, extremely good looking. She was taking way too long to respond to him and was just staring. She caught herself and was glad she had plenty of answers to his question. After all, the menu was her creation.
“Well, with that beer I’d recommend either our burgers or you could try the American Kobe flat iron steak with spring pea shoots, hickory smoked bacon, and roasted yukon gold potatoes with a tarragon whole grain mustard sauce.”
She was sure he wouldn’t get that, no one ever ordered something like that to just eat at a bar alone, but he did ask.
“Wow, that sounds perfect.”
He looked down at the menu again and added, “ I’d also like to get the roasted Penobscot bay oysters … sounds great. I don’t think I have ever had them served with a spinach shallot crème fraîche. But it sounds amazing,” he said, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and beamed, handing her back the menu.
Beth noticed his movement and made the connection. She had seen him before. Her old lab partner always was doing that with his glasses whenever he smile dup at her. Well if it was him he had certainly changed for the better since high school. Back then he had been scrawny and quiet, with terrible acne and huge glasses. He was certainly looking better. She had never admitted it to her friends, but despite all that, she had had a little bit of a crush on him in high school, even though he was a bit of a nerd and short. He was always pleasant and had seen her at her worst and never mentioned it to anyone. When her parents had died, she broke down and Michael had comforted her and covered for her in school. And then not sixth months later, her sister, she — well, no point in thinking about that now.
“You’re not Michael Malone, are you?” asked Beth.
Michael was taken aback; he was sure she wouldn’t remember him. “Um, yes, yes I am. Have we met before?”
He tried to play it cool. If this was Beth, she had changed quite a
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