Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) Read Free

to
where Lyle was plugging in and tuning his guitar. He played one of
those acoustics with a pickup.
    “You’re still a geek!” Macon called after me.
“No amount of paper can change that.”
    I smiled. I let Macon think he got to me more
than he actually did.
    I stopped a few feet away from Lyle, but he
still hadn’t acknowledged my approach. I wasn’t sure if it was the
noise from the customers, or because he didn’t care to talk to me
until he had to. “Hey.”
    “Oh, hey.” He glanced up and ran a hand
through his brown hair that was kind of long and screamed “surfer
boy.” Although the surfer and musician look overlapped
sometimes.
    “Here’s your drink.” I’d given up asking him
if he had a preference weeks before. He told me to surprise him, so
I did. The only problem is he almost always took just one sip. I
was usually good at picking the right drink for people, but
evidently the skill wasn’t working on Lyle.
    “Thanks.” He nodded and smiled slightly. He
didn’t have a toothy smile; it was more of a closed-lip thing, but
it still did something to me.
    “You’re welcome.” I waited a minute to make
sure he wasn’t going to say anything else before heading back to
the bar.
    Brody spun around on his stool as soon as I
got back behind the bar. “Did you at least get four words?”
    “Nope. ‘Oh. Hey.’ And ‘thanks.’”
    Macon swirled the ice in his glass. “That
jerk. He could have at least said thank you instead.”
    “Maybe next time.”
    “Or you could take my advice.”
    I sighed. “Let’s enjoy the music.”
    Brody rested his elbow on the bar. “You’re
the only one who thinks he’s that good.”
    “Come on. His lyrics are incredible.”
    Brody glanced at his watch. “He’s got a good
voice, but I don’t get why you are so into his songs.”
    I shrugged. “You guys don’t get it.”
    Macon rolled his eyes in that annoying way of
his. “Of course we don’t. We are far too lowly to understand the
message behind his music.”
    Any chance to reply disappeared when Lyle
took the microphone. “Hey, everyone. I’m Lyle Waverly and here are
a few of my messed-up tunes.”
    After a long intro, his low gravelly voice
broke in. I closed my eyes focusing on the lyrics.
    Loving the loneliness…loving the empty
space. We can all take off our masks now, life’s about the
escape.
    “Excuse me? Miss?” I opened my eyes and
groaned.
    Macon and Brody laughed as I tried to rein in
my annoyance at getting interrupted.
    “Can I get a Heineken and a Sex on the
Beach?”
    “Seriously?” I said with more of an attitude
than I meant to. That’s how you know you work in a tourist trap. I
mean, non-beachside bars couldn’t possibly sell so many of these
things.
    “Is that a problem? Do you not have
Heineken?”
    “We have Heineken.” I turned around, grabbed
the beer, and made yet another Sex on the Beach. I tried to
concentrate on the music while I worked, but the guy ordering the
drinks was busy talking to my roommates.
    “Here you go.” I set down the drinks after
adding the orange and maraschino cherry. As pointless as it
sometimes seems, garnish has its place. Presentation has more value
than you’d think. “Do you want me to open a tab?”
    “Oh, no thanks.” He put down a twenty. “Keep
the change.”
    I leaned against the back counter again right
as Lyle finished the song. Darn it. It had been a new one, and I
hoped he’d play it again. I was in need of a new song to
dissect.
    Brody used the break for applause to lay it
on me. “Lucky Max didn’t see the way you treated that guy.”
    “Come on. He deserved it.”
    “Oh? Is there a sign that says don’t bug the
moody bartender while she’s listening to her dream boyfriend
sing?”
    I crossed my arms, determined to enjoy the
rest of the set.
    Lyle started singing again, and thankfully
this time no one interrupted.
    “Oh my god, Maddy, you missed it.” Macon
downed his water. I’d cut him off after two drinks