“There ain’t really a martini crowd here.”

Antonia slumped in her seat. “I suppose there isn’t.”

“I can’t hire you, but I’d like to take a cigarette break and Nellie doesn’t come in until seven. You think you can handle the bar while I’m outside?”

Antonia frowned. “Are you serious?”

He swiped the cigarette off his ear and winked at her. “All you need to know is that Michael is working on his fifth Guinness, I’ve got it written here. You ever use an SPS-2000?” he asked, cocking his head to the register behind him.

“Sure,” she said with a startled laugh. “It’s not as good as the SPS-3000, but it’s a solid machine.”

Danny tossed his towel at her. “Well, la-dee-da,” he said. “Can you handle about fifteen minutes?”

She turned around to look at the nearly empty pub. Michael sat at the end of the bar, dressed in another stylish three-piece suit. If he picked tonight to fall off his stool, she’d have to let him stay on the floor. “Okay,” she said, leaving her perch and walking behind the bar.

“Don’t play fast and loose with your pouring either,” Danny said over his shoulder as he exited. “I’m still running a business after all.”

Antonia hadn’t been behind a bar since she was twenty-eight. Back then, she had the energy to work third shift and show up to a nine o’clock lecture. The club she worked at was much busier than the crowd here. With Michael at the bar and a couple sitting near the fireplace, she quickly sized up their orders. The man and wife were a beer and white wine couple. Michael was on his last swallow, so Antonia washed her hands and found a glass. The red-faced gentleman would want his sixth drink.

She tilted the glass at the spout and pulled two thirds of the pint, just as she’d watched Danny do so many times. As she set the glass to rest, Michael announced he was ready for another drink. Antonia smiled to herself. “Coming up.”

She watched the light brown foam rise to the top and slowly transition to a dark molasses. There was a certainly calmness and beauty to this wait. When Danny did this, his actions seemed trained and elegant. She continued to watch the drink as the pub’s door clattered and footsteps traveled to the bar. “Couldn’t trust me for two minutes?” Antonia asked.

“Ms. Harper behind the bar,” said a familiar voice. “Not for a minute.”

Her gaze shot up to meet Aiden’s. “Hey,” she breathed.

“You couldn’t pay your tab,” he said. “And Danny’s forcing you to work it off. I’ve seen it before, but usually in the form of dishwashing.”

His eyes were red and tired, but the handsome smile was back and it was contagious. Antonia found herself mirroring it immediately. “He’s outside on a smoke break and left the bar in my capable hands,” She filled the rest of Michael’s beer, driving the foam to the top of the glass. Only a centimeter of foamy head. Not bad. “Sometimes trying something new gives you perspective on the life you’re already living,” she said, setting the glass in front of Michael.