The Bartender's Guide To The Galaxy

18 - Pseudo Dates

Jackson ran the bar through lunch while I managed office stuff. Even when the happy hour crowd arrived and business picked up, he seemed grateful for the constant activity. I knew he was dreading my mom's appearance, and this had me fighting my own anxiety. She told me she was bringing in the amended contract, and she wasn't going to like how I handled it.

Fifteen minutes before shift change, I slipped behind the bar. "Hey, Jackson. You can head out early if you want to. I'll manage the bar until Jill gets here."

His suspicious smile said he was on to me. "That isn't necessary. Hiding from an uncomfortable situation only makes the situation more uncomfortable."

"You're right. But I still wanted to give you the option."

"Thanks. Hey, have you given any thought to the party tomorrow night?"

"Damn. I forgot about that. Um . . ."

"It's okay if you can't make it. I've been doing a lot of thinking today, and I realized I don't need to do shit to impress people anymore. So what if I'm twenty-eight years old without a wife and kids. We don't have to take the same path other people take."

"Are most of your cycling friends married with kids? Is that why you feel pressured to bring a date?"

He let a sigh escape through pinched lips. "Only a couple of them. It's my uncle who puts the pressure on me. He's a cyclist too. He's been my surrogate dad since my real dad passed. I'm the only boy in the family to carry on the name."

Yikes.

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad's passing. But it's no reason for your uncle to put that kind of pressure on you . . . in my opinion."

"I know. I don't think he realizes how it affects me."

"Maybe you should tell him."

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed again. "Yeah, maybe it's time I did that."

"Yes, by the way. I'll go to this cycling party with you. I assume we won't be cycling. I'm more of a beach cruiser gal."

He chuckled and the mood immediately lightened. "No cycling, but you'll probably get sucked into conversations you'll know nothing about."

"That happens all the time at the bar."

I was happy to have brought Jackson out of his slump, and we tended bar side of side until my mom arrived. To her credit, she didn't engage Jackson at all. She just waved the papers at me as she pointed to the office. It was go time.

"You finished the quarterly tax reports," she said when I followed her in. "Thanks, sweetie."

"It's my job."

She patted the seat next to her as she set the contract on the desk. Then she reached for a pen and laid it across the contract. "Here you go. It's amended just the way we discussed. I read through it myself."

I sat down and looked at the contract that I had no intention of signing. The trick was going to be handling it without making her suspicious of my motive, which had been triggered by her bad behavior with Jackson. I had every intention of honoring his request to keep quiet, but that didn't mean I couldn't issue my own form of punishment.

"I'm still not happy about this contract. I don't understand why we even need it. We've been running the bar without dad for five years. I've given you freedom to go on your trips with Anthony, and you've given me time to work on my degree. Let's just hire a full-time bar manager and keep things status quo for the next two years."

Her cheeks went from store-bought mauve to overcooked tourist as she glared at me. "It seems there is no pleasing you. I suppose I should blame myself. I've always tried to give you more than I had at your age. Clearly, I overdid it."