I busied myself making the drinks. The Shark Bait was one of our signature tropical selections. Overpriced, and pretty much only pineapple juice and peach schnapps, customers usually cared more about the plastic shark attached to the cup than the actual drink.
Right on schedule, Brody took a seat at the bar. He always timed his break with the beginning of the first set on Thursday nights.
“You smell like fish.” Macon wrinkled his nose.
I filled Mary’s tray, but she lingered. I got the sense she was into one of my roommates, but I couldn’t tell which. My bet was on Brody. She’d told me she had a thing for tall guys. Macon wasn’t a small guy, but he looked tiny next to Brody’s six-foot-three frame. Brody claimed his mom made boys big and that his older brothers were actually bigger. I wasn’t sure if I believed him.
“Really?” Brody looked down at his black Surfside Grille t-shirt and then over at Macon. “It almost seems like I’ve been cooking fish all night.”
I laughed, and Brody winked. “Give me my usual, Maddy.” He took it in stride, but I knew how much he hated his job.
“Like you have to ask.” I placed his Coke down in front of him. He couldn’t drink at work, but really the only time he drank alcohol was late at night once in a blue moon.
He opened his straw. “Thanks. So do you have your drink picked out for tonight?”
I nodded. “Yes. It’s the right one. I can feel it.”
Mary smiled. “Ohhh, it’s Thursday night, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, this week went fast.” I picked up some empty beer bottles someone left on the other end of the bar.
“What do you think of all this?” Macon treated Mary to his full attention. “Do you think Maddy’s ever going to give up on this loser?”
“No. She’s dedicated. When a girl’s dedicated, she never gives up on a guy.” She twirled a piece of her reddish-blonde hair around her finger.
“I get that, but there’s an easy solution.” He turned back toward me. “You know that right, Maddy?”
“An easy solution?”
“Tell the guy you want to go home with him. If he says yes, you’re in. If he says no, you had no chance to begin with.” Macon laughed, letting me know he knew there wasn’t a chance in the world I’d do it.
“Thanks.” Used to the ribbing by Macon, I didn’t let it get to me.
“Fantastic advice.” Brody shot me a sympathetic glance. “What’s the drink tonight?”
“An Algonquin. I’m convinced he’s a whiskey guy.” I left out my narrative on the history of the drink, those usually didn’t go over well.
“Oh yeah? Should we plan the wedding? He likes whiskey, so he’s got to be a catch.”
“Shut up, Macon.”
“No, it’s too much fun.”
“Good luck, Maddy.” Mary smiled before heading off to deliver her drinks.
“Oh, look. The man of the hour has arrived.” Macon laughed again. He seemed to do that a lot at my expense. If he wasn’t my best friend, he’d have never gotten away with it. Our history made it different somehow. Besides, I usually managed to throw it back at him.
My heart sped up slightly as I caught sight of the musician that had me drooling every Thursday night. My fascination with him went beyond his athletic build and piercing brown eyes, although those traits didn’t hurt. What really got me was his music. He sang the most haunting songs. They found their way under my skin in a way that music usually couldn’t. “I think he got hotter.”
“It must be that white t-shirt. It’s so over the top.” Brody grinned. His teasing never went as far as Macon’s, but he definitely did his share.
“I like that shirt on him.” I liked everything on Lyle Waverly. In all honesty, I’d been dreaming about him wearing nothing quite often. Although in those dreams, his guitar usually blocked my view of his lower region.
Macon grinned. “Oh damn, she’s imaginary f**king him again.”
“I am not.” I swatted at Macon. “I’m admiring the view.”
“Really? That expression on your face says otherwise.”
“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes.
“Brody, man. Is it healthy that we’re supporting this perverse hobby of hers?”
“What makes it perverse?” I crossed my arms over my black t-shirt. Unlike Brody’s, the logo on mine was small and on one side of my chest. “I’m just trying to find the perfect drink for him.”
“Because you’re convinced it’s the ticket to getting a guy to like you. That’s not normal.”
I let my hands fall to my sides. “Who defines normal?” He was wrong. I didn’t think it would make him like me, but it would help me understand him.
“Oh no. No getting all philosophical on us. We’re here to support you. Don’t put us through it.”
“Support me?” I ran a hand through my just-past-shoulder-length dark brown hair. “My mistake. I thought you guys were here to mock me and get free drinks.”
“Who’s getting free drinks?” Max, my boss, picked that moment to join us. I’m sure it wasn’t random. He usually kept a close eye on the outside bar when I worked it alone. I think he worried about male customers bothering me.
“No one. Maddy would never do that.” Brody took a long sip of his Coke.
Max put a hand on the bar next to me. “I’d complain, but Brody works here and Macon brings in enough business with his dates.”
I gave Macon a patronizing smile. “See, I knew your man slut ways would serve a purpose one day.”
“Man slut? Is that really how you see me?” Macon feigned hurt.
“Yeah, but what do I know? I’m the one with the perverse hobby.”
“Perverse hobby?” Max gripped the edge of the bar. “I told you that living with two men was a bad idea.”
I smiled at my protective boss. “It’s nothing like you’re thinking.”
“Oh.” He noticed what had my attention. Lyle was leaning against the railing, watching the sound. “You still pining over that musician?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “Pathetic, huh?”
“Not pathetic, but unnecessary.”
“Oh? Are you offering your services, Max?” Macon smirked.
“Me? Of course not.” Max turned pink. “She’s young enough to be my daughter. I’m talking about that real estate kid who is always hanging out when she works.”