ADAM
Saturdays are my favorite day of the week at Moonlight House. Our club is packed, which means we'll make good profit today, and I heard from Noah that we have a long line of people outside waiting to enter. It still blows my mind that in two years we have become a popular hot spot in Greenwood.
It fills me with so much satisfaction to see our patrons dancing to the music pumping through the speakers, chatting and chilling with a drink on the lounge couches. From eleven in the morning until nine in the evening, we operate as a restaurant and I love walking around the galleries upstairs where people have quiet conversations over the excellent meals that Sam makes. In about an hour, our live house band will perform and that's when the real party starts. My sister Erin is the lead singer and really knows how to pump up the crowd.
Singing is something she always loved and I have asked her why she didn't continue on that path. She simply replies that she loves entertaining and caring for our patrons, which isn't a surprise since it's the way our parents raised us. My sister certainly raises the bar when it comes to showing how much she cares about our visitor's experience. Her vision on how this place should look was always clear and that's why a giant milky white glass orb hangs from the midnight blue ceiling and illuminates the room at night. The stage, bar, tables and chairs are white while the floor's black tile contains tiny pieces of mirror that reflect the light coming from the ceiling orb, the smaller ones placed on tables and the ones scattered around the walls. When we leased this place, we struggled to find the right name for the club, until the night we finished installing the lights on the wall. Moonlight House, our new home that looked as a starry night with a full moon.
My activities are not limited to managing the club finances and coordinating all matters related to the staff. I also love to help around and tonight I'm having fun tapping beer. Today, one of our bartenders called in sick and I'm substituting her. Saturdays are our busiest day and even though my brother Rory is the fastest bartender I've ever seen, he can't cope with the work of two people.
"How are you feeling?" Rory asks as he scoops ice. "Is your cold over?"
"As over as it can be. When did Erin say she'll come back?" I ask while I read one of the bar tickets that just came in.
"Said she would be here on time for the show. You know those beauty appointments she makes take forever. Did you eat already? I haven't seen you take a break since I took mine. Or are you doing one of those odd diets again?"
"Not on a diet. I've been busy making calls. I'm worried about the beer supplier who's been late twice. Then we got that toilet pipe that sprung suddenly. Noah and I have been tackling that and checking that the rest won't try doing the same. Then I got the call from Imogen that she couldn't come for the club shift, and I've been working on payroll until I came here to help."
"Did she say what's wrong with her?" He asks genuinely worried. "I didn't dare to call her in case she's sleeping or something."
"She said she had a stomach bug."
"Okay, I'll give her a call tomorrow morning to check on her. She's not being herself lately. Take a break and have something to eat. Remember what happened last week," he smirks.
My cheeks flare at Rory's comment. I've been battling a cold for a few days and my appetite was non-existent. On a night, I was talking with this beautiful girl when suddenly she started to look blurry and everything around me went black. I woke up a few minutes later in the kitchen with Sam giving me a disapproving look for not eating properly. I felt so embarrassed to find out I had fainted in front of the girl. Getting a woman's attention isn't something that happens often to me and I blew it.
"Alright, I'll go and eat something."
I wave at Noah to call his attention, who as usual, is chatting with a few girls who look as if they are about to drench their underwear. He says something that makes them giggle and then walks towards the bar.
"Can you cover for me here while I eat something?"
"Sure, we don't want to scrape you off from the floor again," he smiles cheekily.
I smile, but don't enjoy the comment. I let it go because Noah Tanner, together with Samuel García, are my best friends and I know the he's only teasing me. I've known them since we were kids when we moved into bed and breakfast my parents bought in the street they lived at in Lonstino. We grew up in the small town until we graduated high school and continued our adventures in Greenwood.
Noah is the all-around, practical, skilled, and fun guy. He knows how to do a bit of everything and keeps me sane at times. You can find him serving tables, managing the club when I'm not available, doing all the maintenance work necessary and showing his guitar-playing skills in the house band. On Saturdays, the same bunch of girls take place at the front of the stage, affectionately called by us 'Noah's groupies' and let out piercing screams for him. After two years, the situation is still surreal for him.
I guess our whole experience about planning and running the club has been surreal as well. The idea started already when we were of college-age and loved to hang around in bars and clubs here in the city. Noah and Erin would get gigs here and there and we would always go to watch them perform and cheer for them. Afterwards, we always went to have a bite at the all-night diner and would fantasize about having our own place and doing the things the way we wanted. The talks became serious with time, and we all had some savings we were willing to put into the business. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. I made a business plan and showed it to my dad. They had sold the bed and breakfast and moved to a smaller property in Sea Glass Beach that turned out to be a gold mine. I shamelessly asked Dad to back us for the loan. He saw how serious we were, took a leap of faith and co-signed.
"I made you some pasta with chicken and it should be in the oven of the other station. Tons of vegetables, light on the sauce. I saw Noah rummaging in the kitchen earlier so I still hope it's there," Sam says without looking at me while his gaze is on whatever he has in a pan.
"How do you know it's me?"
"I have eyes on the back of my head and your perfume offended my nostrils," he shrugs.
I take a whiff of the cologne on my clothes and don't think it smells that bad. His kitchen staff doesn't seem bothered by the smell either, so I can only conclude that he has a very sensitive nose. My stomach grumbles and I'm happy to find my meal in the oven. Sam plates a fish filet and carefully arranges vegetables next to it, then garnishes the meal with a creamy dill sauce that I love. He finishes a second plate and places it under a heating lamp then presses the light signal for our waiting staff.
"What the hell are you doing?" He snatches the bottle of dill sauce from my hand and a few of his sous-chefs smirk.
"I love this!"
"Adam, first of all, don't mess with the integrity of my food. Whatever you mix at your house is your problem, just don't do it in front of me," he returns the bottle to the condiments fridge and then leans back on the counter. "Second, that sauce is high in fat. You asked me to help you watch what you eat around here."
I feel embarrassed that he has said that out loud in front of his staff, but say nothing. It's not a secret that I've struggled with my weight since my teens, but that's something I don't need voiced out.
"And that was the last order for tonight. I'm ready to go home."
"You should let me hire an additional chef to help with the lunch shift. I know you are proud of your dinner selection, but you can have someone take care of lunch and you can start later."
"I know I was against it, but after that review in the newspaper the food's become popular," he sighs. "I mean, that's the best compliment you can get as a chef, but I'm feeling the pressure now. If I keep putting up with 12-hour work days I'll burn out."
"It's what I've been telling you for a while. I'll put on a search request on Monday and hopefully will find you some good candidates to interview. Just let me know any specifics and I'll add them."
"Thanks, Adam, will do. Hey, talking about Monday, I got a date," he grins.
"Why do you always announce your dates as if it's the first time you go on one?" I tease. "Women basically throw themselves at you. I seem to be the only bastard around here who needs to make an effort," I laugh.
"I don't know. I guess the idea makes me happy. Maybe you should go out a bit more. That would do you good."
"That's easy to say when you look like you, or like Noah or Rory."
"So much bullshit," he shakes his head. "Whoever likes you, will do no matter how you look. Anyway, this girl is amazing and I feel comfortable enough to even flirt with her. You probably have seen her; she works at the little chocolate shop at the beginning of the street. I gathered all my courage this morning and asked her out."
"Are you talking about Marisol?"
"Yeah, do you know her?" He asks surprised.
"I've been to her store a few times. Erin and my mom love her chocolates. She doesn't just work there; she owns the business."
"Does she? You just saved me from opening my mouth and putting my foot in it."
My networking skills are definitely better than my friend's so I have that going on for me.
"Is Erin back?" He asks while he changes clothes and I finish my food.
"Not yet. Do you know anything about the surprise she has for us?"
"Surprise? No, she didn't say anything. Didn't she go to the hair salon?"
"Yeah, she did. I thought she tells you everything."
"Not everything," he says and then wishes a good night to his staff.
We head outside the kitchen and through the crowd, I see Erin and her surprise walking our way.