Izzy hurries to the bar with her tray, stops and blinks, and then turns back and yells at the table across the room. “What kind of beer did you say you wanted, Frank?”

I sigh. “Know the customers’ names, do you?”

“They’re super nice,” she says.

They think she’s hot. That’s why they’re so fucking nice.

“But you can’t remember their orders?”

She bites her lip. “I know, I’m sorry.”

I slide a pad of paper and a pen across the bar to her. “Write the orders down. You don’t have to remember them.”

“Maggie doesn’t write anything down.”

“Maggie’s been working in this pub since she was in nappies, Izzy. Trust me, just write it all down.”

She takes the pad and smiles shyly. I’ve noticed that she keeps looking at our small stage, watching the duo who plays Irish music for us on the weekends.

“They’re good.”

“They are, yes.”

Without another word, she goes back to Frank’s table and writes down their order. The rest of the evening is busy. I can see that Izzy’s feet hurt, but she doesn’t complain. She doesn’t mess up another order, only breaks one glass, and is true to her word.

She learns quickly.

At the end of the night, once the door is locked and the bar cleaned up, I catch Izzy yawning with a mop in her hand.

“I think that’s enough excitement for you today.”

“I can finish,” she insists.

“We’re done,” Maggie announces.

“Oh, thank God,” Izzy says with a small laugh. “I’m so dang tired. I was supposed to be in Aruba right now. Instead, I’m here. I’m not complaining. I just—”

“I totally get it,” Maggie assures her.

“You did well,” I say as I turn off the lights and get ready to follow the girls out to their cars. We’ve never had a problem here, but it’s the middle of the night, and I’d rather make sure they’re safe.

“Thank you so much. I had fun. When is my next shift?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” I reply. “Be here around noon. You can work until dinnertime.”

“Awesome.”

“Goodnight,” Maggie says with a wave and gets into her car.

I watch as Izzy climbs into her little Lexus convertible. But instead of starting it up and driving away, she reclines the driver’s seat and locks the doors.

I drag my hand down my face.

You have got to be kidding me.

I prop my hands on my hips and look around. It’s none of my business if Izzy wants to sleep in her car.

She’s a grown woman.

This is a safe town.

I turn around to walk back inside, then mumble fuck under my breath and approach Izzy’s car.

I tap on the window, startling her.

She turns the key and lowers the glass.