PEYTON
“Let’send this quarter with a bang,” Ani cheers as she wraps up the meeting. Then she claps her hands and everyone parts like the perfect comb over.
Those who aren’t working tonight share hugs or goodbyes before heading out the back. The rest of us shuffle off to our designated areas to prep for another busy night. Just as I remove fruit from storage to slice and add to the condiment trays, Ani sidles up to me.
“Before you get bogged down, let’s chat.”
I nod, set the fruit down, and wipe my hands clean. Ani leads me around the bar and toward the hall. As we pass Micah and Sean, I don’t miss the way Micah follows us with his eyes. Great, something else I will need to handle. Micah’s curiosity.
In the office, Ani closes and locks the door. She ambles to the couch, lowers herself onto the worn leather and gestures for me to do the same. Without hesitation, I join her.
“Been a little bit since we last chatted. How are you?”
I sink into the cool leather more, rotate to face her, and tuck a foot under my bottom. “Oh, you know. Much the same.”
“And Micah?”
My head teeters left, then right. “That has improved. Surprisingly.”
Ani rubs her hands together in front of her mouth. “Do tell.”
I wouldn’t say Ani and I go way back. But we have known each other coming up on seven years. We met three years after my father died. At the time, my mother still suffered severe depression and was having trouble making ends meet. I still lived at home when Dad passed and refused to let my mother live alone. So, I stayed, stepped up and got another job when one wouldn’t cut it.
That is how Ani and I met.
During the day, I scanned groceries at the local supermarket. The job was dull and monotonous, but it paid a decent wage and provided benefits. I met plenty of interesting and odd people, drummed up conversations about random items they purchased and smiled until my cheeks burned.
Ani came through my checkout line with a barrage of alcohol. Red and white wine, tequila, whiskey, vodka. You name it, she placed it on the belt. Along with soda and fruity concoctions. Beep after beep, I stared down at each bottle and assumed this woman was throwing one hell of a party. I’d asked, “Where’s the party. I’d love to tag along.”
It had been a joke. Something to make my customer laugh. A way to spark conversation. But Ani jumped on board and invited me to her place. At the time, she and Sean were engaged. The wedding a couple months out. They’d met late in life. Both established in running their own business. Both ambitious. They also fell instantly and madly in love.
In their lavish home, we partied and laughed and I made them the grossest mixed drinks ever. We laughed harder. Ani said she and Sean were thinking of buying a bar and that I should work for her. She’d train me, of course. The job sounded fun at the time, but I was worried about leaving Mom home alone.
So, I got a second job at a fast-food place on my days off from the supermarket. Ani and I still kept in touch. Text messages. Random girly days at the salon. The occasional trip to the beach.
As time moved on, Mom got better. She also met Harold. Once I knew she was happy, I moved on too. Moved out of my childhood home and rented an apartment with Reese. It felt amazing to finally be on my own. To be my own woman.
Time after time, Ani begged me to come work for her. Told me all the lavish details when she and Sean bought the club in Tampa five years ago. It wasn’t in the best part of town, but it wasn’t horrendous either. And the neighborhood was cleaning up. The club was always busy and they saw larger profits each year.
When she begged me again, just over a year ago, I caved. I had never seen her so giddy.
My first night working, the first time I laid eyes on Micah since high school, I spilled our shared history with Ani. From day one, she has known it all.
“He apologized.”
Her jaw drops as she smacks the air between us. “Shut up. Are you serious right now?”
“Wouldn’t joke about it.”
“How did that come about?” I recount the story as she sits back and stares at me in awe. “Who knew? Don’t get me wrong, I was hopeful things would get better soon.”
“Me, too. I’ve about had it with his constant antagonizing bullshit.”
She reaches across the space and pats my forearm a minute. “You know I love catching up, but we should talk business too. For at least one minute.”
I roll my eyes. “Always such a party pooper,” I tease.
“Never,” she gasps. “I’ll address that later. Did you come up with any ideas for Mondays and Tuesdays?”
“Yes.” I inch closer and share a list of ideas that may drum up more business for the slower nights.
Ani leans an arm against the back of the couch. A hand at her chin and forefinger over her lip. Her attention focuses solely on me while I talk animatedly. Ani is my friend first and boss second. Which may be one of the reasons she values my opinion more. Years ago, she met me. Got to know and bonded with me before business was added in the mix. When she asks my opinion, it isn’t only a business transaction. She wants and values my input.
Ideas fly from my lips. Charity bingo nights. Karaoke. Bar Olympics. Trivia nights. Plenty of bars do these things. Some nearby, others across the Bay. But we have the space to accommodate more bodies. Yes, we may need to invest in more tables, chairs and equipment. But the profit some of those nights would bring to Roar is endless.