Cabe and I returned home via commuter train then bus then his Corvette. He stayed the night and left early the next morning. It was difficult to say goodbye, but knowing we would see each other on his dad's birthday made it easier. I was a fucking goner.
When I showed up for work, my mom was all over me about my trip to Miami with my new boyfriend. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just having fun." I swept the floor of the bar while she talked to my back.
"Don't play that shit with me, Junie. Apart from Derek, you've never shown this much interest in a guy."
"That's because most guys are self-absorbed assholes."
"So, what makes this one different?"
"Like I said, he's fun." I turned around to make sure she wasn't recording our conversation. "What does it matter? You're out of here as soon as I sign that contract."
She tried to look hurt. "I care about your happiness. Do you think I don't care about you?"
My body responded with a guilty twinge, but I had been there before. I knew my parents loved me, but they always had their own agendas. And now I had mine. "I know you care, and I'm doing my best to find my own happiness. I'm a big girl, Mom."
She pulled me into her arms, and I was forced to drop the broom to hug her back. I couldn't say how I felt about it. So much shit had gone down between us. It was probably more sympathy than anything else. "I know you are, baby. And I'm so proud of you."
The weekend progressed normally, and I looked forward to the daily texts from Cabe. He never failed to make me laugh. On Tuesday, I had my video interview with the University of South Carolina. I knew in my gut that it went well, and by Thursday I got confirmation.
"They want an in-person interview!" I told Cabe as I laid in bed.
"I had no doubt you would impress them. When is this interview?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. They were understanding if I couldn't make it, but I really want this job. It's perfect."
"Then we'll make it happen. How can I help?"
"You've already done so much. You've been the best cheerleading squad I could ask for, but I've got this. I'll drive up in the morning, manage the interview, and stay the night at a hotel. Then I'll head over to your family's cabin on Saturday for the party."
"Are you sure you don't want an escort? You'll be navigating unfamiliar terrain."
I let his comment slide. I'd learned that most guys liked to think they were better at everything. "I've traveled the southeast plenty. I was on the track team, remember?"
"Sorry, my bad. I'll email you a detailed map so you can find the cabin. It's kind of tucked away."
"That'll be helpful, thanks."
I spent the evening packing and realizing that my clothing choices sucked. After I landed this job, I was due for a shopping splurge. The drive to South Carolina could have been better. I got stuck in traffic on I-95 and barely made my interview on time.
"I'm here to see Coach Bello," I told the woman at the desk as I glanced at the mascot-themed clock on the wall.
"June Cashmere, right? Awesome!"
Wearing a smile that I took as a good omen, she popped out of her chair and led me to an office filled with windows, showing me the beautiful, albeit landlocked, landscape I could look forward to. Another woman with a long braid of black hair and even longer legs stood from her desk to greet me. I recognized her from our video chat, and couldn't help feeling like a fangirl, given that she held the college record for most free throws in a game until last year.
"Welcome to South Carolina, Miss Cashmere. I've been looking forward to meeting you in person."
"Likewise. I listened to one of your podcast interviews on the way here. I'll admit that I'm not as current with college basketball stats as I am with college track, but I was really interested in your backstory. I didn't know your parents were from Nigeria."
It turned out Coach Bello was happy to talk about herself, and despite the queasy feeling in my gut due to a serious lack of lunch, I managed to impress her and all the other people she introduced me to. When I called Cabe, I was on top of the world.
"They offered me the position! Can you believe it? My first interview straight out of the gate."
"Who wouldn't want a funny, intelligent, enthusiastic person on their staff? You're the whole package, June."
"And you have perfected the art of flattery. But thanks. I know you're not just saying that to get me in the sack."
He chuckled. "Now you've got me imagining you wearing nothing but a sack."
"Sounds sexy. Is it made of silk or burlap?"
"I would never torture your sweet skin with burlap. It's definitely silk. So, did you tell them yes?"
"Not yet. I want them to think I have other options. But this is my dream job, so I plan to tell them yes on Monday."
"I'm really happy for you."
"I miss you."
I didn't know why I'd said it. It wasn't my norm. I blamed that dammed enthusiasm. Cabe was all over it before regret set in.
"Come to Georgia tonight. It's only three hours."
"It's tempting, but I just spent six and a half hours on the freeway. I'm beat. I'll find a nice unassuming hotel with free breakfast and crash for eight hours. I'll see you around noon tomorrow."
"I'll have the image of you and your silky sack to keep me motivated until then."
"I'm sorry. That doesn't sound sexy no matter how much you dress it up."
"I'll come up with something better before you get here."
The first thing I did when I hung up was search for a hotel with a bar. To hell with free breakfast, I needed to celebrate my win. When I located an Embassy Suites with a restaurant and bar, I set my GPS and hauled ass to salvation. I was seriously starving.
I didn't expect the place to be as crowded as it was. Of course, it was a Friday night, but I wasn't exactly at The Ritz. I settled in at the bar and watched the bartender for a bit. It didn't take long before I understood why the place was so packed. The guy had mad mixing skills.
He created a cocktail that changed colors, a smoked old fashioned under glass, and he delivered a flaming zombie in a jumbo-sized bowl to a trio of women who barely looked old enough to drink it.
When he caught me admiring him, he slid a menu across the bar to me. "I'll be with you in a sec."
"I'll be right here."
He left me with a smile that hit me in my girl parts, and I opened the menu to give my eyes a place to go besides his backside. But soon enough, my attention was drawn back to the show. There was something sexy about the way he handled the bottles and the confident look on his face as he prepared his creations. I was tempted to order something fancy just to get off on it.
"See anything you like?" Sir Mixalot and his smile returned, and I was tempted to request his ass on a silver platter, but that would have been completely inappropriate.
"I'll take the special."
"The dinner special or the drink special?"
"The dinner special. But now you have me intrigued about the drink special." I opened the menu, feeling badly that I was holding him up. Clearly, the guy was busy.
"It's the flaming zombie bowl those three are sucking down." He pointed down the bar at the girls hovered over the deadly cocktail.
"Oh. That's a little more than I'm prepared to tackle on my own. But I feel obligated to offer you a challenge. I wouldn't want those sweet mixology skills to waste away."
"You're an appreciator of the mixology arts, then?"
"I'm somewhat of a practitioner myself, but nothing so refined as what you do. I'm more into the tending bar arts."
His brows cranked up, and I realized his eyes were a dark shade of blue. "It's an honorable profession any way you label it. And it's always great to meet a fellow mixer. I'm Daniel."
"June."
"Well, June. I'm up for a challenge. What can I mix you?"
"Go ahead and put in that dinner special for me, and I'll have my order ready by the time you get back. What goes into that color-changing drink?"
"You don't want that. It's just a sugar-based powder that reacts in liquid. It's full of chemicals I can't pronounce. From what I can tell, you're a girl with more discerning taste."
This guy had swagger and charm, a deadly duo.
"Okay. What would you recommend for a girl with discerning taste?"
"I was hoping you'd ask. Do I have permission to surprise you? Don't worry, I'll use top shelf."
"My tastebuds are in your hands."
He offered another brilliant smile and set to work. I nearly lost it when he pulled a bottle of Sapphire gin off the shelf. Was it destiny? Next, he picked up a bottle of Cointreau, but I didn't recognize the third bottle. He seemed to be purposefully hiding the label from me, but it was something dark. He dropped three small cubes of ice into a six-ounce glass, added the liquors, and combined them with a metal stir stick. The garnish was a twist of orange peel, delivered with a flourish and a bow.
"Your beverage, Miss."
I held the drink to my nose, trying to separate the scent of the dark liquid from the gin and Cointreau. "Is that fermented grapes, I smell?"
As I took a drink, his brows lifted. "You're good. Care to take a guess?"
With the sharp, tangy liquid rolling around on my tongue, I decided I would only embarrass myself if I started making random guesses. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss. Where I work, we don't order outside of the US. But I'm definitely tasting wine here, maybe Lillet Rouge. Is this some sort of gin sour?"
Daniel smiled. "Very impressive. I didn't expect you to guess it, so you saved face there. It's called a Patrician, a twist on the Negroni. It's made with Punt e Mes."
"Ah, Italian as opposed to French."
He cocked his head in mock surprise, and I explained. "I'm no wine savant, if that's what you're thinking. Our handyman is, though. I've learned so much from him."
A man in a cowboy hat sat at the bar, and we both turned to give him a quick appraisal. "He's going to order a bottled beer. Michelob, if you have it." I grinned at Daniel, and he slapped his leg.
"We do. Let's see if your Spidey senses are right." He left to take the guy's order, and I watched closely as I sipped on my drink, which really hit the spot. I heard Daniel laugh, and he turned to me with his cheeks burning red. When I saw him pull a Michelob bottle from the cooler, I took another swig from my glass and sat back in my chair. This day was becoming one for the record books.
My meal arrived, and I dug in, feeling grateful for the nourishment. Daniel tasked me on a number of drink orders, and I pegged three out of four. He mixed me my usual when I was ready for round two, and the alcohol was hitting me hard by the time I pushed my empty plate away.
Around ten-thirty, the bar was packed. As soon as the stool beside me was vacated, another body plopped into it—a real cutie, and he seemed to be as interested in Daniel's swagger as I was. In fact, when Daniel noticed him, he smiled and hurried over.
"You said you were working a double."
"They didn't make me close. You're packing them in tonight, Danny boy."
Danny boy blushed. "It's a gift. The usual, I assume?"
"Nah. Long day. I need a . . "
"Wait!" Daniel held up his hand to stop his friend. "I want June to guess. This is June. She's a mixologist too, although she refuses to admit it. She has a gift for matching customers with their drinks."
The cutie turned to bless me with a smile. He was no slouch himself. "Abeo. It means happiness." He offered his hand and I shook it. "Do you want to guess my usual, or the drink I was about to order?"
Actually, I'd already figured out his usual. Abeo was a tall, well-built black guy (maybe ex-footballer) who dressed with purpose. I figured he'd changed out of whatever uniform he'd been forced to wear at work, so these were his street clothes: a light blue button-down shirt over a pair of dark jeans and blindingly white tennis shoes. The scent of Polo didn't quite hide the smell of French fry grease and smoked barbeque. He also had an African accent, which made things a bit trickier.
"I'm guessing you just came off a long shift at a barbeque joint, so you're beat. But you've got a long night ahead of you, so you need to stay awake. Since whiskey pairs well with barbeque, I'd say you're about to order an Irish coffee with Jameson. But your usual is probably a Jameson straight."
They both looked at me like I'd just rode in on a purple horse with the keys to Emerald City. I couldn't help laughing as Abeo's jaw hung open, exposing a gorgeous set of teeth.
"I take it I got something right?" I said.
"Holy fuck! Is this girl legit? Did you put her up to it?"
"No tricks, brother. June is the real deal."
"In that case, I think I'm in love. It's good to meet you, June. Do you also read horoscopes?"
"Sorry. That's not my area of expertise. But I'm happy to drink alongside you and watch Daniel wield his magic."
"It's a date."
For the rest of the night, I was put to task on my drink-guessing skills as I talked with the boys about everything under the sun. Daniel started life in Ireland but didn't claim to be a native since he left when he was four, although it finally explained the slight lilt in his voice. Abeo moved to the area from Nigeria at sixteen and was recruited by the university's lacrosse team. Two seasons in, a shoulder injury snuffed his career. After a number of drinks, I also learned both boys were bi.
I was still there at last call, and that's when Daniel put me on the spot. "So, June. You seem like a girl with an open mind. Would you like to take this party up to your room and see where it leads us?"
"I would have been insulated if you hadn't asked." I didn't even have to think about it. I'd been imaging them without their clothes for most of the night. Of course, I thought about Cabe, but we weren't exclusive. Besides, I had long imagined taking a tumble with two hot guys. It was kind of a bucket list item for me. And I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Have you ever been to a place with a true mixologist? They're great fun to watch, and they take their craft seriously. I've had drinks that tasted like McIntosh apples and Oreo cookies. Not in the same glass, of course.