He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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My mood was thundery as I pushed the door of the bar open. Kelly was already waiting anxiously at the edge of the long steel bar. Her hands wringing together.
"Thank you so much, Anna," she gushed as I shrugged off my navy duffle coat. "And again, I'm so sorry about before."
I could see in her hazel eyes she was.
Still didn't stop her saying it though, my mind grumbled.
"It's fine, Kel, but I'm going to need coffee and lots of it," I said as I bundled my dark hair into a bun. It was fine having it down now, when the bar was more coffee shop than club, but later, when the place got packed and the breath hung hot and heavy in the air, it was unbearable. I hated the feeling of it sticking to my skin, and the heavy thick blanket it formed between me and the lone fan behind the bar. With it up I could just about feel the breeze on the back of my neck. A few moments of relief before it oscillated away again.
"Black, one sugar?" she asked as she fired up the coffee machine.
"Make it two," I said as I looked around at the busy bar. It was early afternoon and the mess had started to build. "I have a feeling I'll need the energy."
Cups and glasses were scattered on the empty tables. Some piled four high where customers had tried to clear a table but been too lazy to bring the empties to the counter.
I waved at Emma as she sailed past me, her tray laden with drinks. Callum was behind the bar filling out orders while Kelly handled the 'behind the scenes' tasks. I could see by their faces it had been a frantic start to the day.
I shoved my coat and phone in one of the cubby's out by the storeroom and set about gathering the dirties.
"Do you secretly just live here?" Callum teased, while I ferried dirty cups to the door at the far end. Ready to be taken to the back room and put through the dishwasher. "Am I going to go down to the storeroom one day and find you curled up between the kegs?"
"I like being busy so I may as well be busy here."
We fell into a rhythm easily. We always did. I'd worked with most of the people Kelly employed, and most of them were nice enough, but Emma and Callum were the only two I'd consider friends. We were close enough that we felt comfortable talking all day, but we didn't socialise outside of work. They'd mentioned it, several times, but I'd always found some excuse. Sometimes I wasn't sure why. Other times I knew the exact reason.
I weaved through the bar easily, despite the small pockets of people huddled around the tables. I'd walked this route a thousand times or more. When I'd first started working here, collecting glasses and taking orders, the bar was still fresh and new. The wooden floors had been freshly waxed, the long stainless-steel counter on top of the full length bar had looked almost silver, and there was still a faint smell of paint in the air from where the walls had been slicked with white. Now, like a fine wine, the bar had aged to perfection. The wooden floors, once too polished and new, now had a softness to them. The initial unnatural stain had been worn away by footsteps to reveal an organic honey colour. The steel counter had been scratched and scuffed so now it was a haze of grey. On clear days, a subtle sheen bounced off it as the sun streamed through the floor to ceiling windows.
